WEEK 3: Creative Solutions for a Systemic Problem

Last week, I shared some of the reasons why traditional shelters don't work for everyone, and why sleeping outside is not usually a first choice, but a last resort.

So the question becomes: what are the alternatives, if any?

One of the most promising models we have here in New York City is something called a Safe Haven. These are low-barrier shelter spaces designed specifically for people who cannot tolerate traditional congregate shelters. Instead of large dorm-style rooms, Safe Havens typically offer one or two beds per room, fewer rigid rules, and in best case scenarios, on-site wraparound care like mental health support, medical services, and consistent case management. In 2025, City Relief partnered with New York Legal Assistance Group (NYLAG) and The Salvation Army to place over 100 people into these kinds of spaces.

For people living with serious mental illness, untreated trauma, or years of instability, that difference can be life changing. It means they have a door that closes, a predictable environment, and care that comes to them, rather than requiring them to navigate an overwhelming system just to survive.

But frankly, we should be utilizing every tool in the box for this kind of systemic and overwhelming challenge. We can't get too siloed in our thinking or we will never make any progress. 

For example, some folks are advocating for additional options like shared living models that rethink how we use apartments with multiple rooms and shared kitchen and dining spaces. Picture a three-bedroom apartment where three vetted individuals—often working adults, older neighbors, or people exiting homelessness—each have their own private bedroom while sharing common space. With clear expectations and the right support, these arrangements can offer both affordability and community, without the intensity or loss of autonomy that comes with large shelters.

These kinds of co-living setups aren't right for everyone, but for the right person at the right moment, they can be a stabilizing bridge, especially in cities where single-occupancy apartments are increasingly out of reach.

Then there are approaches that try to solve the problem of speed and scale.

Tiny homes, modular units, repurposed containers, and even 3D-printed structures are being explored in cities across the country as short-term or transitional housing options. These models don't replace permanent housing, and they aren't without challenges. But they can be deployed faster, cost less per unit, and—most importantly—offer privacy and dignity that many people simply cannot find in traditional shelters. 

For someone who has been living in survival mode, having their own space, even a small one, can be the first time their nervous system has a chance to rest in years.

And finally, there are situations where housing of any kind simply isn't immediately available.

In those moments, safe parking programs can serve as a last-resort harm-reduction strategy. These are designated lots often run by cities, nonprofits, or faith communities where people living in cars or vans can park overnight without fear of tickets, towing, or constant displacement. Bathrooms, lighting, security, and connections to services are sometimes provided.

It may not look like much, but for someone who is already working, trying to save money, or stay connected to their child's school, the ability to sleep legally and safely can be the thin line between progress and collapse.

None of these models are silver bullets, and none of them eliminate the need for truly affordable, permanent housing. 

But they all start with the assumption that people need safety, dignity, and some measure of control over their lives before they can take meaningful steps forward.

Until housing becomes more available, how we respond in the meantime matters. Emergency solutions shape trust. They determine whether people stabilize or spiral, and whether the system becomes a bridge or yet another barrier.

Next week, I'll zoom out and talk about what it would look like to design our homelessness response around human outcomes instead of bed counts, and why that shift matters more than any single model.

Thanks for reading,

Josiah Haken

City Relief, CEO