Australia's gendered homeless crisis: Too many women are falling through the cracks of a broken system
By Erin Longbottom
Around 300 people are turned away from emergency homeless services every day in Australia and 80 per cent are women and children.
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Every day my team and I are on the streets providing healthcare to rough sleepers. And every day there’s a new face. Lately, many of those new faces are women.
Jane’s* from interstate, so she’s not eligible for housing support in NSW. She is clearly traumatised. She won’t give us her real name, and when we approach, she looks away. Sometimes Jane acknowledges us, sometimes she doesn’t. Every day we gently approach her hoping she’ll trust us enough to let us help.
Before Jane it was Maia*. Maia was also scared. Her ex had subjected her to physical and mental abuse before he left - and when he did leave, she lost her accommodation. She had no visa, no money, and nowhere safe to stay. Finding help for Maia is almost impossible because, as a non-resident, she doesn’t qualify for most government-funded homelessness supports.
Then there’s Susan*. Susan is nearly 80. After 14 years working with people sleeping rough it takes a lot to shock me, but when I encountered Susan sleeping rough at a train station – at her age – I couldn’t wrap my head or heart around it. How does this happen? I was so outraged I shook with anger. Susan was riding the trains to stay safe at night. She had no income, multiple health issues, and every day was a struggle.
And I can’t stop thinking about Jenna*, an Aboriginal woman whose life has been shaped by a cycle of incarceration, family violence, and homelessness. With no stable income and nowhere safe to sleep, Jenna beds down on the streets, vulnerable and unseen. Behind her quiet strength is a story full of yearning: she dreams of her Country, a home, her family, and being able to heal. But there’s fear too. She knows what the statistics say: another stint in prison could be her last.
The reality is, women’s shelters and crisis accommodation providers are rarely anything but full. Around 300 people are turned away from emergency homeless services every day in Australia and 80 per cent are women and children.
The waiting list for social housing is seemingly never ending. Navigating the aged care system from the street, without support and without money, is impossible. None of these women have the funds to enter the private rental market.
These are not isolated cases. Older single women are the fastest growing cohort of people experiencing homelessness in Australia. Every day, outreach services like mine encounter women who have fallen through every safety net. And sleeping rough will soon start taking its toll in other ways. Serious health complications are likely, and trauma is inevitable.
New data from the Australian Institute of Health and Welfare shows the average age of death of people who have experienced homelessness is 55 years – almost three decades younger than everybody else. These are avoidable deaths caused by isolation and system failure. Health conditions synonymous with homelessness are largely preventable.
Aboriginal women are also more likely to experience homelessness. At least 30 per cent of the women my team support each month identify as Aboriginal.
So what is the solution? How do we prevent women finding themselves in these situations, finding themselves stuck with no way out? It starts with acknowledging that the causes of women’s homelessness are deeply gendered and complex.
For many, it’s preceded by domestic violence or a relationship breakdown. Added to that is often insecure housing, along with years of working in low paid or temporary jobs resulting in little or no superannuation or savings. The tipping point can also be the advent of an illness or the loss of a partner. There’s also intergenerational trauma, particularly for Aboriginal women.
When combined, the risk factors for women – particularly older women – can become a perfect storm. And once homeless, the things people have to do to survive are often dehumanising. Many women express a sense of loss of dignity and shame.
What can we do in the short-term?
Firstly, there is an urgent need for more specialised accommodation options for women, which organisations like St Vincents are tackling head-first.
A former convent building generously donated by the Sisters of Charity offers a start. Located behind our Sydney hospital, the building will be turned into a new health accommodation facility designed specifically for women experiencing complex health issues, domestic and family violence, and homelessness.
While dependent on identifying funding and philanthropic support, this service will become a vital pathway out of homelessness for women who need it most.
But we also need more specialised assertive outreach services tailored specifically for women that can respond quickly and provide the right type of help. The longer a woman stays homeless, the harder it is to break the cycle.
It was a compassionate, diligent, outreach worker who helped Susan find temporary accommodation. But the key word here is ‘temporary’. Once Susan’s time is up, she will have to leave and may have nowhere else to go. And so, the cycle of despair, shame, and ill health will begin again.
Every woman, no matter her circumstances, needs the opportunity to leave homelessness behind and rebuild her life. I refuse to accept that some people just fall through the cracks and there’s nothing we can do.
We are all responsible for what happens to Jane, Maia, Susan, and Jenna next.
*The names of all of these women have been changed to protect their privacy.
About the author
Erin Longbottom
Erin Longbottom is the Nursing Unit Manager of St Vincent’s Hospital Sydney’s Homeless Health Service, where she leads a multidisciplinary outreach team delivering essential healthcare to people experiencing homelessness across the inner city. Working on the front line, Erin provides compassionate, person-centred care to some of the community’s most underserved individuals, many of whom live with complex, chronic, or untreated health conditions.
Thought about public life Erin? I’d vote for you!
Thank you, Erin ❤️