Tiny Homes: A Solutions-Journalism Approach to ending Homelessness san diego community responses prompt criticism and praise

María José Durán

Carol Ortiz became homeless for the first time in her life at 55 years old. “I never, ever thought I would be in a position that I found myself in,” Ortiz said.

Ortiz works two part-time jobs and has joint custody of her four-year-old grandson. With her current income, she can’t afford to rent an apartment. “I stopped my life to take care of [my grandson] three years ago,” she said. “That's so tough.”

But before she could hit the streets, she found a solution. A 96-square feet cabin in the back patio of a church in El Cajon, California.

Tiny homes–houses that are 400 square feet or less–have been gaining popularity among advocates, academics, and unhoused people as a solution for the housing crisis in the United States. In this article we examine the tiny home village model applied to San Diego County from a solutions journalism perspective.

Tiny home villages, according to a research study published in Harvard Law & Policy review, “can be cheaper, quicker and more environmentally sustainable than other affordable housing options.” Author Lisa Alexander argues that permanent or temporary tiny home villages can not only relieve the pressure of the overcrowded housing market, but provide a sense of community and safety that many housing solutions today lack.

San Diego-based nonprofit Amikas treasurer Lisa Kogan (pictured, left) has been fighting to jumpstart tiny home villages for unhoused people in San Diego since 2016. But it wasn’t until she connected with El Cajon’s Meridian Baptist Church senior pastor Rolland Slade that the project took off.

Upon seeing the Amikas' tiny home model at a North Park fair, Slade (pictured) invited them to build a village of six cabins in an empty lot next to the church. They partnered with the city of El Cajon, which granted them a permit under a housing emergency declaration for six cabins where homeless women and children can live for up to 90 days.

“The ladies feel cared for, so they can make improvements in their life,” Slade said, "they're not thinking, ‘I'm just stuck here in this place, thrown away.’”

The facilities include a seventh cabin that operates as a pantry and kitchenette for residents, a recently-finished gazebo, and two portable toilets for middle-of-the-night emergencies. The women and children have keys to use the church’s bathrooms, where there are showers.

Like Ortiz, 26 women and 19 children have found a safe haven at tiny cabin village at the Meridian Baptist Church of El Cajon since it opened in 2021.

Ortiz explained that, despite her deep gratitude that she was able to secure a tiny cabin before she ended up on the streets, the shock of becoming homeless still affected her. “It took me about a month to stop crying once I got in here, because I was so scared of where I was going to wind up,” she confessed.

the problem: an unhoused crisis

Jeremy Burton

It was just after 11 a.m. as 40-year-old Josh, who has been unhoused for the last six months, sat on the edge of a shopping center parking lot near Lake Murray in La Mesa, California.

For the first time in his life, Josh didn’t have a job. He had served in the Marine Corps and worked as a first responder. He said he had lost his house where he lived, not far away from the strip mall where he now passes the days–and the nights.

“I have a degree, I was a Marine, I was a firefighter, an EMT and like I said, I’ve been out here for six months and you know, half the time it’s not anything that I could control,” he said.

Even with the help of Veterans Affairs services, Josh says he’s had a hard time finding a shelter or housing. “They take women and children, put them in motel rooms, and then the men if they were in a car, they couldn’t come in because they were considered sheltered,” he said, adding that many of the shelters aren’t great environments to be in.

“All the men are put into a barracks type situation,” Josh said. “You’ve got drug addicts, sick people, mentally unstable [people], all crammed together. It’s a freaking nightmare.”

In Josh’s opinion, having his own individual tiny home unit to stay in before transitioning to permanent housing would be helpful.

Shanti Velasco

“My wife’s friend [...] builds those tiny homes and we talked about it, it would be perfect,” Josh said.

From his perspective, there are certain measures that need to be addressed for the tiny homes to work though. “These nice little homes, you want to make sure they’re being taken care of so the next person can use them and that they don’t stay in them forever,” he said.

Shanti Velasco

The Solution: Tiny Home Villages

María José Durán

Tiny home villages provide unhoused people with a place to rest and to feel safe; and perhaps most important of all: with a community.

Traditional homeless shelters are often criticized for their schedule. At many of them, shelter staff ask the clients who sleep there to vacate the premises early in the morning. At the Meridian Baptist Church of El Cajon, while participants know they have about 90 days to use the space, there are no such constraints.

Kogan recounted the story of an unhoused woman who had just moved into the village. “She asked me, ‘What time do I need to leave in the morning?’ And I said, ‘No, no, no, you're gonna sleep in, and sleep in the day after, and sleep in the day after that,” Kogan said, getting emotional. “Then, when you get a good night of rest, you can start meeting with your case manager.”

At the Meridian Baptist Church, Ortiz has been able to access not only rest, but a sense of community. “Morris–the security guard–is awesome. He always brings food and snacks for the kids, and he always asks me if I need any dinner,” she said.

Kogan and Slade provided Morris–or, their endearment term for him, Jimbo–with a motorhome next to the village of tiny homes so he could better manage his volunteer position as security guard.

Back in the day, when he was living in his car, women liked to park on either side of him, because he was known to watch out for them,” Kogan explains. “When we got him to be the security guard, [the participants said] ‘This is a safe place again.’”

The Building Process

Petrina Tran

Amikas vice president and head carpenter Rob Bird is in charge of providing the building materials for these structures. He also oversees the design and manufacturing process of custom built cabin kits that can then be assembled by unskilled volunteers, like the Warrior Village Project.

According to Bird, the buildings at the Meridian Baptist Church are technically emergency sleeping cabins, as defined in California’s Building Code. “The structures are temporary and only permitted by a particular appendix in the building code to allow them [to be built] in consideration of a shelter crisis,” Bird said. The sleeping cabins have fewer code limitations than tiny homes, allowing them to be constructed quickly during a crisis.

Bird said that the purpose of these structures is to offer people autonomy and have personal space and ownership to get back on their feet. He said an ideal solution could look like more permanent supportive housing alongside supportive services.

Bird described how 6-10 volunteers can assemble a pre-manufactured cabin kit in about two weekends with instructions, minimal hand tools, and little experience.

“By the time it’s finished, standing is a combination of wood paneling and fabric that is insulated and has electricity for charging a phone or plugging in a light,” Bird said.

Volunteers also install a solar powered fan for the exhaust vent on the roof, smoke and carbon monoxide detectors, fire extinguishers, and a finished floor. The cabin is furnished with a bed, two windows and a door to create what looks and feels like a house.

Joshua Silla

Warrior Village Project founder Mark Pilcher is working with students from three high schools across San Diego County to build movable tiny homes for homeless veterans. His plan is to construct villages of 12 tiny homes placed anywhere in San Diego County because, while Pilcher has only constructed one tiny home thus far, he plans to quadruple that. This semester two tiny homes are in construction at San Marcos High School (SMHS) and two others are in construction at Rancho Buena Vista High School and San Pasqual High School.

“[One] house didn’t start till the end of January or start of February of [2023], and we were able to start [a second] house in August or September [of 2024]” SMHS Construction teacher Chris Geldart said. “We’ll have both of these wrapped up this [academic] year.”

While Pitcher's movable tiny homes are capable of being placed nationwide because they’ve been both built to federal standards and inspected by state officials, they still face city-specific zoning and permitting issues. In some cities, tiny homes are coded as being recreational vehicles or as accessory dwelling units; permits for tiny homes do not exist in every city. Though there are problems with overall nationwide tiny home expansion, Pilcher insists that “[zoning and permitting are] getting better all the time.”

Down the street from Ward Canyon Park in Normal Heights where San Diego’s unhoused population spills into, self-proclaimed tiny home advocate Ellen Stone has been changing negative stereotypes about homelessness, one tiny home tour at a time.

Stone, who owns two tiny homes–one in her backyard, and another in her driveway–believes that these structures can change communities by increasing the availability of affordable housing.

Stone’s work has been pivotal in legalizing ordinances for tiny homes across San Diego County – and nationwide, as well. Her tiny home showrooms, both in her driveway and at TinyFest at the Del Mar Fairgrounds, have played a major role in creating supportive legislation for tiny living. Conversations between tiny home advocates, city officials and state officials led to the creation of the Movable Tiny House ordinance in October 2020.

“There were lots of tiny houses for people to tour,” Stone said. “It gave city leadership first-hand experience, like, ‘Oh, this is a house, a real house. This just happens to be on a trailer, and this could be a solution.’”

THE MATCHMAKING PROCESS

Tiny Homes Villages nationwide share the goal of providing support to those willing to take the first steps toward rebuilding their lives, helping to combat homelessness one step at a time. An important part of a successful Tiny Homes Village is ensuring that its residents are an appropriate match for every individual Village. The application process includes submitting proof of need, interviews to assess individual goals and readiness, and evaluations for additional services such as mental health counseling and job training, and they are usually started with immediate referrals by social service workers.

Success stories

Isabella Canale and Petrina Tran

Off Main St. in Chula Vista, in front of Otay Regional Park, sits a tiny home village for people experiencing homelessness.The Chula Vista Village at Otay has 65 sleeping units, bathrooms, laundry, a kitchen, security, and community areas.

The shelter is meant to provide temporary housing during a transitional period for the residents. “It’s complete wraparound services. In addition to meals, we have case management, housing navigation, and employment placement,” Chula Vista homeless solutions manager Angelica Davis explained.

Chula Vista Village came to fruition with a variety of funding from federal, state, and county sources. The project amounted to $6.6 million with site preparation, construction, design, operational supplies, and facilities.

The goal of this project is to provide unhoused individuals the support needed to re-enter and function effectively in society. This includes food, hygiene, transport, physical and mental health care, and career services.

“The idea is to bring them in, remove all the hurdles…stabilize them so they can get back on their feet,” said Davis.

Shanti Velasco

A key part of tiny home villages' success as a solution for homelessness, is the services they offer beyond the obvious housing element.

Tiny home villages are transforming the fight against homelessness as they keep emerging throughout the United States. Nowhere is this innovation more critical than in California, the state with the highest homeless population. In San Diego, initiatives like the Amika Tiny Village in El Cajon and the Otay Valley Regional Park Tiny Homes Village showcase how these communities go beyond providing shelter, addressing the root causes of housing instability with comprehensive supportive services.

One of the residents in the program at the Amika Tiny Village site in El Cajon, Carol Ortiz, describes her experience by saying, “This program is wonderful, and they're working with me to try to help me get a job, try to help me with counseling... and at first I didn't realize I needed counseling. But I started doing counseling, and it's helped me a lot.” Beyond counseling, the sites also provide access to healthcare and medicine its residents might need access to. The one-on-one assistance when it comes to navigating the job market and helping residents with their resume has also proven to be essential in the journey to transition to permanent housing.

Angelica Davis, the Homelessness Solutions Manager at the Otay Village, describes her team’s goals by saying, “The idea is to bring them in, remove all the hurdles and barriers to stabilize them so they can finally get back on their feet.” Through the variety of services offered at the tiny home villages, they are helping to do just that.

TINY HOME APPROACHES IN OTHER CITIES

Portland, Oregon's community-oriented model has been successful in using the tiny home shelter model to transition members of its unhoused community to permanent housing. Thirty-five percent of the individuals who exited all of their City Shelter Services sites moved on to permanent housing, compared to 27% from San Diego’s shelter and rapid re-housing programs.

According to Portland City Shelter Services engagement coordinator Laudi Porter, a community-first value system has been integral to the success of these sites.

Porter added that acknowledging the concerns from residents where these shelters are located, while remaining committed to the civic duty of addressing this issue is key. “It’s a balance of understanding and validating people’s feelings, that it is change and it is scary–but we also have an obligation and a directive to do this work by our elected officials,” she said.

In Alameda County, California, the Fairmont Medical Respite Recuperative Care Center combines a tiny home shelter model with medical respite care, prioritizing the most medically vulnerable within the unhoused community.

The site contains 28 individual tiny home-style units and one modular building with six individual units. Each unit comes equipped with central heating and cooling, a kitchen and shower.

According to Alameda County Health Care for the Homeless program director Lucy Kasdin, the center is different from other tiny home shelter sites in that it specifically serves clients who are in high need of medical care.

“Several people there pass away [within] a year. Often people who are in hospice, really, folks who otherwise would have died on the street,” Kasdin said.

Kasdin shared some of the ways she feels this model is working. “I think that when we look at things like reduction in hospitalizations to connections to primary care. Somebody dying inside, you know, with dignity and not dying on the street,” she said.

Tiny Home Challenges

María José Durán, Petrina Tran, and Isabella Canale

The construction of tiny home villages faces challenges, including community opposition and local building codes.

On some recent examples of this, the San Diego County Board of Supervisors has tried to build tiny home shelters in Spring Valley and Lemon Grove, both met with community protests.

Brett and Karla Burner have been Spring Valley residents since 2009. Theirs are two of the many voices in opposition to the county’s proposal of setting up a tiny homes village near Sweetwater Road and Troy Street in Lemon Grove.

The couple voiced concerns of the local community as they expressed frustration with the city’s lack of communication, transparency, and consideration for existing residents. Authorities see it as a step towards a permanent solution.

Before the sleeping cabin project was supposed to be in Lemon Grove, it was supposed to be in Spring Valley and had funding from the state. However, the Board of Supervisors’ backtracking and indecisions forced the Governor to retract the funding.

Interviews with the Homeless Solutions Manager in Chula Vista and the San Diego County Supervisor of Lemon Grove’s District reveal different approaches the teams took and are taking to gain community support. Community backlash, amongst other factors, have stalled the Lemon Grove project from even presenting a design plan.

Meanwhile, in the Meridian Baptist Church of El Cajon, they have faced minimal community opposition. Slade explained that there are three residences next to the lot where the village sits, and only one of those neighbors has expressed contempt for the project.

“In the 18 months that ladies have been living in the village. There have been no calls for services, alcohol, police department ,” Slade explained.

The support of local authorities has also been important for the Meridian Baptist Church tiny cabin village. From the approval of the emergency shelter by the El Cajon City Council, to the continued support of councilmember Steve Globe, Slade expresses gratitude to the local authorities. “We always identify the city as a partner. Because they didn't have to do that,” he added.

Slade also mentions their smaller size as a reason for their success. “We have six [cabins]. We'd like to get to 10. If the 1,000 faith communities in San Diego County that have their own property were able to build six, that'd be 6000 cabins. Think about how many people we have that are living in homelessness. That takes a huge bite out of that,” he said.

But, Slade pointed out, that even without big numbers, being able to help even one person escape homelessness, it’s worth it for him.

Ortiz agrees with this notion. “I had to grasp the fact that I'm homeless, and just being on a homeless list would make me cry,” she said. “Whenever I call for a doctor's appointment and they say, ‘Oh, well, you're homeless, so you'll be covered by this,’ I just start crying. Just hearing the word homeless, because that means you don't have a home, and I don't for the first time. Yeah, that's really hard.”

Created By
Maria Jose Duran

Credits:

Maria Jose Duran, Jeremy Burton, Petrina Tran, Joshua Silla, Shanti Velasco, Isabella Canale