Here’s why half of Latino immigrants are chronically homeless in Johnson County

IOWA CITY — Sitting beneath a baptism certificate framed on the wall of her mobile home, Maria Davila Herrera recounted the harrowing journey of how she carried her children across the Rio Grande on the nation’s southern border two years ago.

After a trek from her native Honduras to Mexico, she took the advice of those she was staying with: pursue a better life in the United States. “If you don’t die crossing the river, reach out to this man when you get across the border,” her host said.

With the help of strangers, Davila Herrera — her 10-year-old daughter clinging to her waist and her 18-year-old disabled son on her shoulders — set out across the water, a move where life was not guaranteed for anyone, let alone three.

“By the grace of God, we made it across,” she said.

Their contact in the United States delivered as promised, connecting her family to a mobile home they could share in Iowa City. Today, the family shares a two-bedroom mobile home with two other families — a total of 12 living in a small double-wide.

Together, the three families pay what they can each month to make the $1,400 rent. Davila Herrera, 46, works part-time at a shampoo factory, which gives her the flexibility to take care of her son, now 20, who has physical and developmental disabilities.

Here, life is not easy. But it’s a world away from where they were.

From a couch in the living room where four people sleep every night, Davila Herrera described the weight that was lifted when she crossed the threshold of her new bedroom.

“I felt like a different woman. I smiled for the first time in a long time,” she said through an interpreter. “I felt liberated.”

And in the time since her family escaped gang violence, domestic violence and child abuse, she’s seen her daughter blossom, too. With a school she enjoys, now 12-year-old Darling is helping her mother live vicariously just with her smiles.

No matter how many people they share an address with, their new home will always feel larger than the place they left in Honduras, described as “a jail.”

“The world was dangerous outside, and my husband made it dangerous inside,” Davila Herrera said.

Living in a space designed for a single family is challenging, but the feelings of happiness and liberation are what make the three feel at home, despite the square footage.

“This world is for them,” she said.

When Tania Diaz, 28, last year escaped gangs threatening her family’s life in Honduras, she found a room to share in Iowa City after the long journey. Her husband, a major source of support for the family, was detained at the border and remains in a detention facility.

In a small room shared with seven others, she slept in a twin bed with her children, ages 11, 15 months and 2 months. Other bedrooms housed multiple men and families she didn’t know.

Today, she lives in the Catholic Worker House, working a low-wage job to afford an immigration attorney.

“I’m not looking for a giant house or mansion. Just a small home where me and my family can be safe,” she said. “We don’t come from our country to be a burden.”

Over half of Latino immigrants chronically homeless

Despite having a roof over their heads, these immigrant families and many others like them in Johnson County are part of a group experiencing a technical definition of homelessness.

According to a new survey involving university researchers and health officials of nearly 500 working immigrants in Iowa City and Coralville, more than half of Latino respondents live doubled-up, tripled-up or quadrupled-up in housing with other families and individuals. Such crowded living conditions affect Latinos disproportionately than other immigrants.

“It is likely that the actual number of people facing homelessness in our community is more than six times larger than our current estimates suggest”

The majority of the survey group, half of whom are permanent residents, pay over $800 a month for housing while earning less than $20 an hour.

The Salud, Techo y Trabajo report, released in March by Johnson County Public Health, the University of Iowa College of Nursing and immigrant-led advocacy group Escucha Mi Voz, documents a vivid snapshot of health, housing and work disparities among African and Latino immigrants.

It reported that 64 percent of survey respondents were concentrated in just five census tracts. Four of those low-income neighborhoods are contiguous in Iowa City; one is in Coralville.

But unlike people living on the streets, who are counted by the annual Point in Time counts used to allocate funding for homeless resources, the people sharing small spaces with multiple families do not get counted for government resources.

“It is likely that the actual number of people facing homelessness in our community is more than six times larger than our current estimates suggest,” said Manny Galvez, board member of Escucha Mi Voz. “This discrepancy means that the majority of prevention funds are being directed to only a small segment of the issue.”

Barriers to affordable housing

When Escucha Mi Voz organizer Clinton Dimambu left her $625 per month apartment a few years ago, she moved into a mobile home where the rent was $360. Now, her rent is $500, a 39 percent increase. The rent of the apartment she left has gone up to $700, a 12 percent raise.

Many immigrants move into mobile homes because “people think they’re affordable to live in,” she said. For her and the people she knows, documentation and price are the biggest barriers to quality affordable housing.

A lease requires a bank account, a Social Security number and a co-signer for those who don’t have credit built in the American credit score system. Getting immigration statuses sorted with an attorney can cost thousands of dollars.

“Those are all difficult to get. If you don’t have papers, how are you going to apply for affordable housing?” Dimambu said through an interpreter. “What’s left is going to live with other people.”

While many live on leases that require all residents to be listed, many families have to hide who lives with them. In her mobile home, for example, the lease adds $60 per month for each person.

“But at the same time, you can’t leave your friends and family with nowhere to live,” she said. “It’s a hard situation.”

Difficult living situations in the immigrant community can continue for years. For some, it ends when they secure work permits. For others, it never ends.

“It’s difficult to become a priority when you’re not seen”

A resident of Iowa City for six years, Dimambu said the problem has continuously worsened.

“The majority of the people live in the shadows,” she said. “Because of the fear, it causes all these problems. There’s people that are here, but they don’t want to be seen.”

As the immigrants go about their quiet lives working in meatpacking plants, restaurants, hotels, factories and construction, the lack of visibility makes the effort to highlight their struggles challenging.

“It’s difficult to become a priority when you’re not seen,” Diaz said.

Health effects

The effects of poor housing conditions go beyond a matter of comfort. Expensive, crowded and substandard housing is one structural determinant contributing to a variety of health problems, according to the report authored by Johnson County Public Health and the UI College of Nursing.

Nearly 25 percent of Latino respondents had at least one serious medical condition, such as asthma or diabetes.

Johnson County already has a slightly higher percentage of residents who are uninsured — 5.18 percent, compared with the state average of 4.83 percent. Generally, that leads to poorer health outcomes with less access to care, fewer preventive services and less timely treatment for chronic conditions, said Karrey Shannon, community health nurse for Johnson County Public Health.

“Immigration status in individuals and families is understood as a key social determinant of health, and serves as a critical contributor to racial health inequities,” Shannon said. “When our community members are forced to prioritize their legal (immigration) status over their health and well-being, we end up with growing food and housing insecurity, growing rates of maternal and child mortality, and much worse outcomes in areas of chronic disease and mental health.”

Solutions

The report recommends that city and county policymakers fund more innovative community health partnerships and new permanent supportive housing developments for immigrants and refugees.

Escucha Mi Voz has also implored the Johnson County Board of Supervisors to support a proposed $1.5 million affordable housing project funded by the federal American Rescue Plan Act.

“If governments are truly committed to racial equity and effectively addressing homelessness, a radical reevaluation of government strategies is imperative,” said Manny Galvez, a board member of Escucha Mi Voz.

Supervisors, who previously voiced support for the measure, voted unanimously April 3 to halt funding for the project. Previous ARPA-funded projects supported by supervisors included a $3.5 million direct assistance program that distributed $1,400 payments directly to more than 2,200 county residents who did not qualify for other federal stimulus payments.

Supervisor Jon Green said the decision hinged on the county’s inability to meet ARPA compliance requirements. That applied to the use of the funding for new projects in other areas as well, he said.

“If we utilize ARPA money for affordable housing in any way, we commit ourselves and future supervisors to a 20-year compliance requirement that is unique and beyond the other rules governing ARPA,” Green told The Gazette. “If we were a larger county, we’d already have those systems and staff in place, but we currently do not.”

The funding that was previously earmarked for the affordable housing project will be returned to the “unassigned” category. Supervisors have identified three potential areas to use that money: a refresh of the county’s human capital management systems, the commercial kitchen project at the Historic Poor Farm and the County Administration Building refurbishment.

But the county has earned $1.75 million in interest from ARPA funds held in the bank awaiting use. Green said that money could be used for an affordable housing project free from the restrictions.

“It’s my intention, and I think the intention of other supervisors, to instead use that interest income for a similarly scoped affordable housing initiative that doesn’t commit supervisors to an expensive compliance burden we’re not currently equipped to meet,” he said.

In a statement, Escucha Mi Voz said other funding sources are not a viable alternative unless they also guarantee that the project is affordable to tenants at or below 120 percent of the adjusted median income for 20 years.

“Without these guarantees, the county could claim the mantle of affordable housing while still charging market rate rent like any other landlord,” the organization said.

Comments: Features reporter Elijah Decious can be reached at (319) 398-8340 or [email protected].