Despite Local Support, Homelessness Continues to Grow in Yolo County
2024 Homelessness Report shows 26.3 percent increase in the last two years
(Note: Today features a guest column by my daughter, Emme Dunning, a reporter for The California Aggie who graduated summa cum laude from UC Davis last Friday with a degree in Sociology)
On any given night in Yolo County nearly 1,000 people will go to sleep without stable housing according to the 2024 Point-in-Time Homelessness Report.
Some find shelter in cars and tent encampments. Others rely on temporary shelters and rehab programs. Nearly all depend on government systems that often fall short. This issue has worsened in recent years, with the Yolo County 2024 Homeless Count noting a 26.3% increase in people experiencing homelessness as compared to the 2022 report.
The homelessness crisis in Yolo County reflects a rising trend seen throughout California. According to CalMatters and The National Alliance to End Homelessness, more than 180,000 people currently experience homelessness in the state, an increase of 23% since 2019.
Homelessness has long stood as a major issue in the high-cost state of California. The growing crisis is drawing attention from state leaders, including Governor Gavin Newsom. In a May 12 announcement, he called for city officials in the state to take stronger action against homeless encampments in their jurisdictions, a move that has garnered intense backlash from community organizations and advocates in the state. Newsom’s office emphasized the steps he has taken to support the homeless community, even as his administration doubles down on encampment criminalization.
“California has invested $27 billion to provide local governments with the support they need to address homelessness, including roughly $1 billion for encampment resolution funds (ERF),” said Tara Gallegos, Deputy Director of Communications for Governor Newsom.
“ERF funds support efforts to move people from encampments into permanent housing, or to interim housing with a clear path to permanent housing, and to address encampment residents’ immediate health and safety needs,” Gallegos added.
“In California, these investments have yielded positive results. While homelessness continues to grow nationwide, in California we have blunted the increase.”
Although there has been a decrease in growth overall, encouraging statistics don’t always translate to an improved lived experience for those navigating the streets. Local advocates stress the realities of the issue in Yolo County, where funding allocation often falls short of providing people with effective support.
Becky Marigo is one such advocate, serving as the program supervisor and case manager for Davis Community Meals and Housing, a non-profit organization dedicated to providing the homeless community in Davis with housing, food and support for long-term stability.
In her time working with DCMH, Marigo has come to understand just how complex the issue of homelessness is and what it truly takes to create lasting change. She noted the disconnect between policy-based programs at the state and federal levels and the consistent, personalized support that local constituents desperately need.
“I don’t think folks understand the realities of what goes on with it,” Marigo said. “They think you can provide a house, and everybody’s going to want to change. That’s not it. The change comes from within the person. You need to continue to work with the person, support the person and support their situation. Every situation is different. Unless you're willing to really deal with the issues at hand with each person, you’re going to have a hard time.”
DCMH employs this relationship-based approach with all its clients, using its resources to sit down with people to understand and address their unique needs and challenges. It is this philosophy that Marigo believes is missing from the current statewide approach, and a core component needed to make a real difference.
Rosa Michelle is a testament to what can happen when personalized support meets grit and determination. Today, Michelle is stably housed and sober, a reality that for many years felt impossible.
Michelle, 60, was born and raised in Woodland, where trauma and instability defined much of her life. It was in Woodland that Michelle found herself homeless after a long struggle with domestic violence and drug abuse, issues that kept her without stable housing for thirty years.
“Drugs led me to lose my job, lose my home and lose my children,” Michelle said. “I ended up going to jail and then to prison.”
For years, Michelle worked to get herself into treatment and support programs throughout Yolo County, but repeatedly found herself let down by the resources available to her.
“I was in and out of programs,” Michelle said. “I would get all ready, and by the end of my program, there was no help. When we came out, we came out to the streets again. You just ended up back in that cycle, back with the people you used to be around. It was really sad to feel alive again in a program and be clean and be working on yourself, and then they're like, ‘Okay, your time's up, you got to go now.’ And there's nowhere for you to go. If family members don't have anywhere for you to go or if the shelters are full, it's devastating.”
Finally, through a referral from a local hospital after a heroin overdose, Michelle was placed in a medication-assisted treatment program, which has brought her three years of sobriety. This made her eligible for one of DCMH’s sober housing and living facilities, where she has been living for the past year and a half.
Through their resources and her own perseverance, Michelle now pays her own rent, works a part-time job, volunteers for DCMH and gets to regularly see her children and grandchildren.
“For over thirty years, I didn’t have a job, a car, nothing,” Michelle said. “Now I have a car and a job and I’m on SSI. I’m happy that I have the support now. Never in my life did I ever imagine I could accomplish this.”
While the existence of DCMH has been transformative for Michelle, it is far from a perfect solution. Open beds are few and far between, and the clean and sober requirements for its transitional housing often exclude those still grappling with addiction. Their dedicated staff works hard to bridge these gaps, but like many similar organizations, they need more resources to meet the growing demand for services.
Former Davis Mayor Robb Davis is one of several city leaders who has long grappled with the issue of homelessness. These issues were a major focus during his time in office from 2014 to 2018, and have continued into his current role as the assistant director of housing resources at the UC Davis Aggie Compass Basic Needs Center. Davis believes that DCMH is doing important work, but emphasizes the need for more widespread support, both in terms of personnel and strategy.
“What the case managers do is amazing,” Davis said. “But there are only two of them. We need 15 or 20 people doing that type of work on a regular basis, not two people who are just run ragged by the sheer magnitude of the problems.”
Davis proposed a system that draws on the same person-first approach of DCMH, but incorporates more consistent outreach and coordination in connecting people with services and support.
“We need a pretty structured navigator system,” Davis said. “We need a group of workers who are trained to do constant regular outreach, filling relationships, getting people to their appointments and legal hearings, getting their meds.”
Davis continued by describing how navigators can help provide transitional support for people while infrastructure developments are in progress.
“Navigators are really about inviting people back into the community,” Davis said. “I think that if we only had that, even if we didn’t have more rooms, we would be able to help a lot of people make a move off the street. It would be transformative.”
It’s these kinds of programs that Davis believes can bridge the gap between broad policy and funding allocation and making real change in the lives of unhoused community members.
“It’s a completely different model,” Davis said. “It’s a tireless pursuit of a relationship with people. Navigators are a commitment, first and foremost, to the humanity of the people in front of us. You’re not trying to compel them to make a change or threaten them to make a change. You’re saying, ‘I’m going to walk with this person. I’m going to learn who they are and where they’re from. And then I’m going to see if there are options in their life.’ ”
Implementing such a system will not be easy. And yet, Davis believes it is financially possible within existing local resources.
“We could do it here in Yolo County with the money we have already,” Davis said. “It’s a matter of priority. Budgets always are. I don't have any doubt that if we wanted to, we could fund these things.”
Despite the urgency of the issue, widespread implementation of such a model remains today a distant dream. As Yolo County and California continue to grapple with the rising unhoused population, advocates hope leaders like Governor Newsom and local officials will prioritize more expansive, person-centered infrastructure and support systems. If or when this change comes may well decide the future for hundreds in Yolo County and thousands in California who are still waiting for improvements in services.
For additional resources, visit:
Davis Community Meals and Housing - Comprehensive homelessness support center
First-time clients can visit from 8 am to 2 pm Monday through Friday
1111 H Street, Davis
(530) 753-9204
The Aggie House - Student-led transitional housing
First-time clients can send a message to the email address below
216 A St, Davis, CA 95616 (located inside The Belfry - Lutheran Episcopal Campus Ministry at UC Davis)
Fourth and Hope - Comprehensive homelessness support center
Day services are available from 8 am to 5:30 pm
1901 East Beamer St, Woodland
(530) 661-1218
UC Davis Willow Clinic - Student-led Sacramento healthcare/mental health clinic
Open every Saturday from 9 am to 11:30 am
1400 North A St Bldg A, Sacramento
(916) 572-4502
Reach Emme Dunning at dunningem59817@gmail.com
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“We Are Not the Strangers Here”
On any given night beneath Yolo’s stars,
a thousand dreams sleep in cars.
Tents bloom like wilted flowers
rooted in sidewalks,
forgotten by power.
They are not strangers to these streets,
only strangers to your eyes.
They carry stories—not statistics—
in the folds of their sleeping bags,
in the silence of government replies.
We see the math.
A 26 percent rise.
But you cannot quantify
a grandmother’s sigh
as she watches her last dollar
flutter down like fall’s first leaf.
You cannot chart
a child’s belief
that the backseat of a car
is just a temporary bed
until morning brings
a better dream instead.
California has pledged its billions.
But still, hope breaks
on broken sidewalks.
Still, systems crack
where people fall through.
Still, a woman named Rosa
crawled her way through
addiction’s cage,
through prison gates,
through policies that expired
as quickly as her housing dates.
She rose.
Not because the system caught her.
But because someone saw her.
Because someone said:
“You are not the problem to be solved.
You are the story to be honored.”
This is the lesson that lingers:
No one heals from a clipboard.
No one rises from being told
that they don’t belong
until they are made to feel
they do.
So don’t just build beds.
Build bridges.
Don’t just erect shelter.
Erect systems
that listen, that labor, that last.
Because when the policy ends,
the person remains.
When the funding fades,
the faces stay.
We are calling for more
than press releases
and photo-op plans.
We’re calling for navigators
who walk beside—not ahead.
Who ask not “Why won’t you change?”
but “How can I help you stand instead?”
Because true transformation
isn’t handed down—it’s handed over.
It’s earned in the tenderness
of one human
seeing another
and choosing not to look away.
So let it be said:
We will not be the state
that criminalizes pain.
We will be the community
that recognizes names.
Rosa. Becky. Robb. Michelle.
These are not cases.
They are people.
And they are us as well.
We are not waiting for change.
We are it.
The first step is not in funding.
It is in witnessing.
So rise, Yolo.
Not to pity, but to promise.
Not to fix, but to foster.
Let no one sleep unseen.
Let no one fall unheard.
And let no one tell you
that dignity
is a privilege,
when it has always been
a birthright.
great writing by emme on a difficult subject