Home Sweet Home: A Tiny Home Village for Transgender Folks Experiencing Homelessness

On March 1, 2016, Cersilla Wolf officially became a Denver resident. She packed up her bags, said goodbye to Columbus, Ohio, trekked across five states, and—like many of us—landed in the Mile High City. For the first three weeks, she rested comfortably in the sublet she had arranged before moving across the country. But, at the end of her third week, the subletter decided that Wolf, a transgender woman, was no longer welcome and put her out in the streets.

“I was suddenly homeless in a city that I didn’t even know yet,” Cersilla said. “From there, I shetler-hopped, couch surfed, and slept on the streets until July 21, 2017. I got to know Denver on a very, very personal level during that time.”

On July 21, 2017, Wolf moved into the Beloved Community Village, a self-governed tiny home village in RiNo available to people experiencing homelessness. It’s the first of its kind to pop in Denver, and while they’ve hit some snags with location, the Colorado Village Collaborative (CVC), a coalition of local businesses, faith organizations, and nonprofits, introduced a new solution to the affordable housing crisis in Denver.

Colorado’s homeless population rose four percent from 2016 to 2017, mirroring an increase nationally, according to a report by the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development. A year prior, the population rose 13 percent.

This is something the CVC is hoping to change as they push for a second village. Located at St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church, the second village would consist of eight tiny homes, one community space, and one shared bath-house. Like the Beloved Community Village, this village will be run by its residents—women with an emphasis on transgender and LGBQ women.

“Rent is unaffordable and displacement is occurring all over the city,” Cole Chandler, organizer for CVC, said. “We’re in the midst of a national movement where cities are making more space for capitol than for people. With that we’ve seen an increase in people experiencing homelessness in Denver, and instead of creating real policy solutions, we’ve criminalized it.”

But, the second village’s fate is still up in the air. The project has to go through a review before the city’s Landmark Preservation Committee, Chandler said. That will include several public meetings and a comment period in the weeks ahead.

“We’re about six weeks out from knowing if we can go forward,” Chandler said.

They’re also seeking a six-month permit from the city to occupy the site, which is a limit required by the city’s rules. Additionally, the organizers are working with the mayor’s office and city planners to allow tiny villages to stay in place for longer periods of time; Beloved Community Village currently has to relocate every six months.

“But it feels like every three minutes,” Chandler said.

The new design would include some changes from the current village. Instead of portable toilets, the village could have two incinerator toilets. The central kitchen also could include running water and other improvements over the original.

“We haven’t had anything to tell us that this isn’t working, so why not expand?” said Kayvan Khalatbari, member of the CVC and candidate for mayor. “We also haven’t had people who got those houses return to the streets, which is huge.”

As the project continues to grow, Khalatbari stressed the importance of helping the communities of people experiencing homelessness that are hit the hardest, and don’t have a place in the shelter system.

“Transgender folks are those people,” he said. “We want to create these spaces where transgender people feel comfortable. Where they feel at home.”

On the Streets

For the first week after being evicted from her home, Wolf found shelter at the Delores Project, a shelter that offers personalized services for unaccompanied women and transgender individuals experiencing homelessness. She was there for a week under emergency admittance, but was put back out on the streets of Denver at the end of her seven-day stay.

“That’s when shit got really hard,” she said.

Of the nation’s 1.4 million trans people, one in five individuals have experienced homelessness at some point in their life. Family rejection, discrimination, and violence are all contributors to the alarming rate of LGBTQ homelessness. According to the Williams Institute, an estimated 40 percent of youths experiencing homelessness are LGBTQ-identified.

But, the discrimination doesn’t end once they are living on the streets. Many trans people often lose beds in shelters for minor infractions and are left without a recourse for appeal. Seventy percent of trans people experiencing homelessness report being harassed or physically or sexually assaulted in a shelter.

Wolf lost her bed in a shelter when another resident reported that she was masturbating. Wolf, along with a few other shelter residents, denied that accusation.

“I had witnesses and people behind me, but they still gave me the boot and didn’t let me appeal it,” she said. “There’s not much you can do but keep moving along.”

Nicole*, a trans woman currently experiencing homelessness, knows this all too well. While staying at numerous shelters throughout Denver, Nicole never felt safe.

“I’m full-time, very non-passing trans, but I still try to look good—which has been hard lately,” she said. “When I go into shelters I’m out of place. I don’t try to stay at them anymore, and just couch surf or find a comfortable place on the street.”

Nicole grew up in Iowa, and moved to Denver in August of 2017. She didn’t account for the high cost of living in the city, and her minimum wage job wasn’t pulling in enough money to cover her $700-a-month rent.

In December, Nicole moved out of her house and into the street. Not long after, she lost her job.

“It’s been really, really hard trying to adjust,” Nicole said. “The hardest part is making sure I’ve eaten when I take my medicine.”

Both Nicole and Wolf were taking hormones while experiencing homelessness—thanks to Medicaid.

“I often had to take my hormones without any food,” Wolf said. “It makes you dizzy and uneasy, but it’s a feeling that I learned to live with.”

It’s a feeling that she’s rarely felt since moving into Beloved Community Village.

Beloved Community Village

Sitting at 38th Street and Blake Street, the Beloved Community Village is surrounded by a rainbow—literally. The fence, which isolates the tiny home village from the construction ravaging RiNo north, is painted every color of the rainbow. It’s a warm welcoming into a warmer community.

Amanda Lyall moved into the village on July 21 alongside Wolf. After leaving an abusive relationship and sleeping on the streets for a few months, she had reached a breaking point. She was woken up by a gaggle of cops that morning before trekking it to the north side of town. It wasn’t the first time, but it would be the last.

Beloved Community Village gave her a family, friends, and a purpose again.

“It saved my life,” she said. “It gave me a reason to live again. I have a reason to live again. That’s how the majority of us feel here.”

The village, which is completely self-governed is working. City records show that there have been no calls for police service to the village since it was established. Eight months after opening day, no one had returned to living outside and three have moved into permanent housing. Almost everyone has a job.

“I’ve seen people’s health get better. I’ve seen substance abuse issues dissipate,” Lyall said. “It’s really all about the community. We care for each other; we look out for each other.”

Today, Wolf still lives in one of the 11 tiny homes that make up Beloved Community Village. She’s often practicing her guitar skills on her porch, or socializing with her community members.

“That’s the best part about this place—it’s a community. We support each other here,” Wolf said. “More people need this—especially my community.”

*Nicole asked to be anonymous, and her name has been changed.

Photos by Levi Tijerina