Unhoused parents want to preserve childhood for their kids: ‘I want to give her everything’

LAist spoke with parents facing housing instability, and all shared a common sentiment: a deep, visceral longing to protect their children’s sense of childhood.

Homelessness among families with children is on the rise.

According to a report from SchoolHouse Connection, more than 74,000 children under the age of 4 experienced homelessness in California between 2022 and 2023, marking an increase from the previous year. The study noted that this trend is reflected across the United States.

This comes amid growing economic pressure. Data from a survey by the Stanford Center on Early Childhood indicates that last year, the vast majority of California families with young children struggled to afford basic necessities like housing or utilities, reaching one of the highest levels seen in years.

We interviewed five Southern California families with young children who described the circumstances that led to their housing struggles, ranging from job losses that exhausted their savings and rent hikes that triggered evictions to fleeing domestic abuse.

While their paths to housing instability in Los Angeles varied, they all expressed the same emotional burden: the weight of shielding their children and the intense desire to maintain a normal childhood for them.

(LAist is using first names only due to safety concerns and potential repercussions.)

“I may not be rich, but I feel like seeing my daughter paint and draw, that makes me rich,” Erika says.

Erika left a bad situation to prevent a worse one.

‘It’s a struggle to be a mom in Los Angeles at this day and age, period.’

The repurposed motel room where Erika lives with her two children lacks much furniture, but she has added shaggy rugs and decorated the bunk beds with vibrant comforters. Her 8-year-old daughter’s bed is adorned with Hello Kitty decor.

“Here, in this room, it doesn’t feel like I’m homeless,” she said.

This is not Erika’s first time at this shelter near Koreatown. She first stayed there with her children’s father about two years ago following an eviction. Their rent for a one-bedroom apartment in Crenshaw had jumped from $1,200 to $1,800.

After having a baby boy while at the shelter, they moved into Section 8 housing. However, about a year ago, Erika took her children and left, choosing to face homelessness again rather than remain in a cycle of domestic conflict.

“I’m not going to have DCFS (the Department of Child and Family Services) come and take my kids from both of us because we’re fighting and we’re toxic,” she said. “I don’t know where I would be right now if I didn’t have this place. I would probably be in the street with my kids, or I probably wouldn’t even have custody of my kids.”

Erika has personal experience with the foster care system, having entered it at age 12 due to her mother’s struggle with drug addiction.

“I just knew that I didn’t want to give the lifestyle that I was given to my children,” she said.

She shares custody of her children and cherishes the time she spends with them. She often buys coloring supplies for her daughter from the Ross store across the street, while her 2-year-old son stays active climbing on the beds.

“I may not be rich, but I feel like seeing my daughter paint and draw, that makes me rich,” she said. “Even little things like reading my kid a book at night. As funny as this sounds, like no one read me a book.”

She is currently working toward her real estate license and hopes to secure low-income housing. Research indicates that economic hardship, driven largely by high housing costs, is a primary cause of homelessness.

“Los Angeles is not a fairy tale, you know?” she said. “I know it’s temporary. I know one day I’ll get my house. I know one day, I’m gonna be cooking with my daughter watching ‘Cocomelon.’ One day, but I know I’m trying. I’m trying.”

Jessica juggles three part-time jobs.

‘I have done everything possible … sometimes it’s just not enough.’

When Jessica escaped her abusive husband while pregnant and caring for two young boys, she framed the experience as an adventure to keep them calm. They stayed in various hotels.

“I would try to make it as fun as I could,” Jessica says. “I kept them entertained — a lot of jumping on the bed, a lot of just having fun or playing with their toys or being outside, like parks — just try to only be there when it was time to eat, shower and go to bed.”

However, the environment was difficult for raising children. She lacked space to store food, weekly hotel rates were high, and the presence of transient guests made it an unsuitable place for her sons.

“[It was] a never-ending rollercoaster,” she recalled.

After roughly six months, she connected with House of Ruth, a nonprofit supporting domestic violence survivors, which assisted her with housing and a portion of her rent. Domestic violence remains a leading cause of homelessness for women.

That assistance was temporary, and she faced the threat of eviction after falling a month and a half behind on payments.

“I was literally losing it. I didn’t know if we were gonna be in the middle of the streets. I don’t have family. I don’t. It’s just me and my kids,” she said, echoing a sentiment LAist heard from other families.

She eventually received rental assistance through a homeless prevention program run by another nonprofit. That program has since concluded, and she now rents a house from a church in an L.A. suburb at a reduced rate.

When LAist visited in January, Jessica had recently moved into the two-bedroom home. Her three young children, all 7 or under, share the master bedroom. Her favorite feature of the new house is the kitchen bar counter.

“The kids are really enjoying just sitting there and watching me cook and it feels like a hibachi restaurant,” she said.

While her children are in school, she balances three part-time jobs: working at the local church, cleaning houses, and serving as a substitute teacher. She is also enrolled full-time in a healthcare administration degree program. Her day begins at 2:30 a.m. so she can complete her studies before the children wake up at 6.

“They’ll never see a time where like I’m crying or something like that. They always see me joking around with them, laughing with them, doing something with them,” she said.

“The most important thing is keeping a roof over my kids’ heads,” she added. “When you see families, um, mothers and fathers with children and they’re on the street or they’re in shelters, it’s not by the lack of effort, it’s by the lack of re

Marie got clean for her daughter.

‘If I could have anything portrayed from any of this situation with me and my family, it would be that we love each other.’

Marie checked her phone, which displays a timer tracking the time she has been sober.

“ I’ve been clean for 11 months, 12 days, 11 hours and 20 minutes,” she said.

Marie held her 4-month-old daughter, who blinked peacefully in the afternoon sunlight.

Last July, while living in a “tiny home” in North Hollywood with her partner, Marie discovered she was pregnant. She immediately stopped using meth.

“I was a drug addict for 25 years and stopped completely because of my daughter,” she said.

Marie had experienced homelessness for about three years following multiple stints in jail for identity fraud and larceny. With no family nearby, she lived in her truck. “It was not easy. Living homeless is not for the weak at all,” she said. Marie also manages bipolar disorder.

She and her partner moved into a tiny home, which she initially found “awesome,” but the lack of ventilation became a major concern once she was pregnant. At seven months pregnant, she moved into a family shelter in the San Fernando Valley, a 100-unit former motel. “Moving here was a luxury and a breath of fresh air.” Her water broke in their room about a month early, and her baby spent 10 days in the neonatal intensive care unit. “She’s been doing great ever since.”

Pregnancy while homeless is common. A 2023 study by UC San Francisco found that 1 in 4 unhoused women in California between the ages of 18 and 44 was pregnant. These women are also less likely to receive prenatal care.

Marie marveled at her daughter’s recent milestones. Just days ago, the newborn haze faded, and the baby looked directly at her mother. “ And then she got this big old grin on her face. And it, I swear to God, it was the single most rewarding feeling in my life because she looked at me like she was falling in love with me for the first time,” she said.

In a few weeks, Marie and her daughter will move from the shelter to a two-bedroom apartment in Van Nuys. She will be in a permanent supportive housing program, which assists those with mental health conditions by subsidizing rent, leaving her responsible for 30% of the cost. She plans to drive for Uber part-time to provide transportation for her daughter. She also hopes to work in homeless services, inspired by her own experience and the support she received.

When asked what she looks forward to in her new home, she replied, “Everything … I’m excited to watch her grow.”

Wayne moved his family away to find a home.

‘We’re willing to give California up for that because the most important thing is to be housed and fed.’

When Wayne lost his job in A/V tech support two years ago, he had $30,000 in savings, which he hoped would sustain them for a while. However, the job market remained difficult, and after months of searching, the family ran out of money and lost their one-bedroom L.A. apartment.

He and his partner spent time moving between motels and living in their car with their 4-year-old son. “The first time we slept in the car it was really, really hot, and [the son] ended up with heat rashes all over his back,” he said.

Thousands of people in Los Angeles use their vehicles as housing. While exact figures are hard to determine, a recent Homeless Count estimated that over 23,000 people sleep in a vehicle on any given night.

His son, A., has autism and struggles with sleep. “He hates it,” Wayne said, noting that the boy would only sleep in the car if he was resting on his father’s lap.

During the day, Wayne would take his son to the library or the park to play with his toy cars.

“The most important thing is trying to make sure he basically is comfortable as much as possible, that he’s [having] fun, that he’s not really understanding what’s going on — which I think we’re doing a good job [at] so far,” Wayne said.

After months of searching, Wayne secured a job out of state late last year and left California, his home state. They moved into a house in the middle of winter, and his son excitedly explored every room.

“He was kind of standing there for a bit, just kind of blank stare, and then I told him, ‘It’s our home,’ and he smiled,” Wayne said. He noted that after months of car living, his son is still adjusting to the concept of having a permanent home.

“We left to go to the store earlier today, and he didn’t wanna leave. He said ‘bye-bye’ to the house and started crying. He didn’t wanna leave,” Wayne said. “He just wants to be inside. I think he just wants to take in — the stability of being inside.”

Diana hopes her children don’t grow to resent her.

‘We came here to better ourselves, to do good things here, what we couldn’t do back home.’

Diana and her three children arrived in Los Angeles from Venezuela two years ago. According to the U.N. Refugee Agency, the economic collapse in Venezuela has forced nearly 7.9 million people to flee the country.

She explained that her family frequently went hungry. “ Es duro como mamá que los hijos le piden comida a uno y porque es horrible cuando un hijo le pide comida a uno y uno no tenga,” she said through tears, expressing the pain of being unable to feed her children when they asked.

Driven by desperation, she and her children—two of whom are teenagers—traveled through the Darién Gap, a dangerous 70-mile stretch of jungle between Colombia and Panama where hundreds of thousands of migrants have crossed in recent years.

Children under 5 represent the fastest-growing demographic of migrants navigating this treacherous terrain. Diana and her family spent months on the journey.

“Pasado mucha necesidad de, este, la cual el, en la selva, la selva del Darién,” she said, describing the hardships of the jungle crossing, including reports of rape, death, and murder.

Upon reaching Mexico, they lived on the streets.

“ Andando en la calle, durmiendo en la calle, pidiendo limosna,” she said. You endure hunger and homelessness, but you keep moving forward.

After staying in L.A. motels, Diana found a temporary family shelter where they share a single room, along with their 1-year-old dog, Dulce.

She and her husband earn minimum wage cleaning at a burrito factory and are struggling to find a way to afford their own rent. They are caught in a difficult position, earning $16 an hour for a family of five in a region where the median rent exceeds $2,000.

While she is grateful to be off the streets, she feels the pressure of wanting to provide the best for her children.

“Yo me imagínese que mi hijo me diga: ‘Mamá, ¿y entonces para qué me sacaste de allá? ¿A tenernos aquí, porque en estas cuatro paredes?'” — “I can just imagine my son telling me, ‘Mom, why did you take me out of there? Just to have us here, inside these four walls?'”

However, she notes that her children are no longer starving; they have food and are attending school. Her oldest is even enrolled in a summer program that includes field trips around the city.

Still, recent news regarding immigration and potential deportations keeps her in a state of constant worry.

“No hay comida en mi país no hay y no me gustaría volver,” she said. There is no food left in her home country, and the fear of being caught by immigration and deported causes her significant anxiety. “A veces me pone, me llena de angustia, de ansiedad, de eso, de saber de eso que me lleno.”

She says she prays for protection for her and her children.

“Es en los manos de Dios,” she said.

It’s in God’s hands.