On a cold, bright autumn morning in the Adelaide parklands, curious dogs and mostly incurious humans pass by tents half-hidden in bushes.
After Bikram Lama – the “birdman” of Sydney – died last year, thousands of people streamed past his body, oblivious.
People walk past those sleeping rough every day, in every Australian city, and increasingly in regional areas.
Rough sleepers are both the most visible and the most invisible homeless people. They’re in public, but the public avert their eyes.
A program in Adelaide is helping rough sleepers be seen. Locals who spot them can make a notification on a website called Street Connect by dropping a pin on a map, along with details of the person spotted.
That triggers outreach workers to check on them.
The Toward Home Alliance team – a complicated, compassionate, chronically under-resourced network of outreach services – searches the city in a grid, adding extra checks wherever those pins are dropped.
They leave water, protein bars, Band-Aids and tampons, and ask rough sleepers what else they need. They know people’s names and their backstories.
Some they check in on are keen for a chat, others not so much.
Street Connect is “a way for the community to be able to help inform us, and direct us to areas of concern that we’re not seeing”, says Toward Home’s senior manager, Shaya Nettle.
“It’s also really helpful for identifying and responding to community hotspots. It ensures we’re not missing things.”
Sign up for the Breaking News Australia emailOutreach workers check the location of every dropped pin within 12 hours, but Nettle says people should still call emergency services if there’s a critical situation.
But she asks people to be mindful of the fine line between checking in on someone and respecting their space. If a person is with their own tent or bedding, that is still their home.
“That’s their private space,” she says. “But if you’re genuinely concerned … just say ‘hey, I just want to check you’re OK’.
“We’ll often call out ‘hello, are you OK?’ They’ll respond with a ‘yes’ or a movement or a ‘hello’ or a ‘leave me alone’ or a wave, and that’s OK.”
She says it is common for homeless people to feel invisible. “And they often become conditioned to making themselves invisible … trying to diminish their presence or their exposure,” she says.
“Any level of normalising them in a human, daily experience is really important. That starts with eye contact, a ‘hello’. If you’re going to get a coffee anyway, offer them one.”
Nettle describes homeless services as the emergency department of the community, echoing the way hospital “bed block” at the end of patients’ visits ripples all the way down to the ED.
Cost of living and interest rate pressures lead to a “really highly contested” private rental market, increasing pressure on community and public housing.
People are then stuck for longer in transitional care and crisis accommodation, and stuck longer sleeping rough.
Overcoming stigma
People might slip into homelessness because of family and domestic violence, drug and alcohol issues, mental illness, job loss, rent increases or even relocating for a different job and being unable to find somewhere to live.
There are about 200 rough sleepers in the Adelaide CBD and North Adelaide. The number fluctuates as people move around, including as groups come to town from regional areas or remote Aboriginal communities.
David, who asked that his surname not be used, was on the streets for about eight years. A private school kid from a privileged background, he suffered what would later be diagnosed as generalised anxiety and post-traumatic stress disorder.
The 42-year-old self-medicated with alcohol and drugs, sometimes drinking up to eight bottles of wine a day. He spent some time in jail, got a job, got fired, got clean, then fell back into addiction.
By 2016, he was on the streets.
“Best part of eight years I was sleeping rough,” he says. With the help of the Hutt St Centre, part of Toward Home, he got help with rehab, and in 2024 he got a spot in public housing via the Adelaide Zero Project.
He’s studying community service at Tafe and most mornings still visits people on the streets to remind them where to get food, or help.
Fourteen rough sleepers die each year in Australia. Since Lama’s death, a young homeless mother died in Western Australia, and a newborn baby died in a makeshift homeless camp near Wagga Wagga in regional New South Wales.
Studies have found the human brain dehumanises homeless people, potentially because their suffering and our feelings of helplessness might make us uncomfortable.
Prof Rebecca Mitchell, from Macquarie University’s Australian institute of health innovation said in April that along with government and policy failures contributing to Lama’s death, people may have chosen to pass him by because of stigma and stereotypes.
Hutt St Centre’s chief executive officer, Chris Burns, says tourist events can compound problems, as those staying in cheap motels, backpacker hostels or boarding houses are evicted for higher-paying customers.
Then the events themselves – many of which are in the parklands – dislodge others from their regular spots.
Asked about the tension between looking after rough sleepers and placating those who complain about their camps, the state’s newly appointed human services minister, Katrine Hildyard, says she believes most people are kind and empathetic.
“Sometimes people don’t understand why someone is in that position,” she says. “And they maybe don’t understand what to do to support someone, [so] raising community awareness is really important.”
Nettle says governments need to fund the full spectrum of housing support, from crisis options to long-term permanent accommodation, with diverse options for a diverse community.
David, on the other side now, talks about the difficulty transitioning from life on the streets to being housed.
“I was really worried as I went through the process [of recovery and rehab],” he says.
He is “really proud” of having made it out. “It’s not by chance … it’s because of the good help I’ve received along the way,” he says.
“I feel amazing for it. It’s such a beautiful life to live now.”
