Bringing it home...
San Diego’s streets are full of people one paycheck away from a good home, escaping an abusive relationship or the demons of PTSD. When we take the time to stop and talk with people we learn they are families, brothers, mothers, seniors, veterans, teenagers, sisters, all looking for a home. Some find community and protection among each other, some choose to stay in isolated corners. This site is about our shared humanity; a documentary project in words and visuals by award-winning photojournalist Peggy Peattie, who has been telling the stories of America's homeless for nearly 40 years.
Catie Profeta conserves water so she can have clean rinse water when she washes her hair and brushes her teeth. She shares food, money, clothes and other resources with others around her in her Hillcrest neighborhood, mindful to never block the sidewalk. Her degree from Whittier College is in Environmental Science, with a minor in Women’s Studies. When she was working Profeta always ended up the project manager, something she credits to her OCD tendencies. After a work injury left her jobless, then homeless, she is leaning on her analytical brain skills to suss out who to trust and how to be resourceful. She fondly remembers her Women’s Studies classes and professors as some of the most formative influences in her life.
Living outside for 15 years makes you forget certain things about the required responsibilities of living indoors. The transition was so challenging that Henry lived in a tent in the backyard for four months before a storm convinced him to sleep in the room he was assigned. Listening to the wind rattle the windows triggered memories of nights he’d spent in a tent or a car during similar storms. Being responsible not just for himself but for his dog Lulu made the difference. The key to success is changing your mindset, he said, changing your behavior. While he admits he doesn’t like dealing with change, the reward of finally having the security of a home with GLM Housing is well worth the personal work he knows must be done, especially when it means also adapting to a shared living situation.
Chris is a family man. His fondest memories are of the times he and his siblings, cousins and father worked at his grandmother’s thriving board and care business in San Diego. After years of turbulent relationships, addiction, prison, health issues and heartache, all he wants is to be able to have his twin daughters stay with him during visitations. He has battled back the drug addictions, but still struggles with PTSD from all the violence he witnessed in prison and on the streets. That, and betrayal by family and spouses keep him emotionally fragile, but he has housing now and is determined to get his twin daughters back into his life.
Fawnadina Hunter, 43, leans on her rake after smoothing out the patch of dirt around the large tent she shares with her husband Natalio “Junior” Aviña, 34, and their German Rottweiler, Oso. She sighs as she looks over at to the mound of trash her neighbors had piled up against the cyclone fencing that separates this patch of dirt from the sidewalk. She is also keeping an eye out for Junior. She hasn’t seen him or Oso since early morning. She fears he is with another woman or off smoking meth. She is thinking it may be time to call it quits on their 11-year relationship and return to her home near Porterville on the Tule River Reservation, where a niece is living in her house for now.