Experiencing Homelessness at 17 in Michigan

In November 1999, at 17 years old, I became homeless in Michigan with no money, no housing plan, and no formal assistance available to me.

This was not a planned departure into independence. I had been living with my father and stepmother, and my stepmother made the decision that I could no longer remain in the house.

Some people might have described me as a troubled teenager. I had ADHD, and looking back, I believe some of my behavior may have been an attempt to receive attention that seemed to be given more freely to other people than it was to me.

That does not mean I handled every situation correctly. It does mean the circumstances were more complicated than a simple story about a difficult child who refused to follow rules.

At 17, I went from living with family to having no reliable place to sleep.

I Became Homeless With No Resources

I did not leave the house with savings, transportation, a job capable of supporting me, or another home waiting for me.

I had essentially no resources.

No agency stepped in with housing. No program provided regular food, transportation, or a caseworker. I was not given a clear path from homelessness back into stability.

I had to determine how to meet each immediate need myself.

Michigan’s Bottle Deposit Became My Income

Michigan placed a 10-cent deposit on many soda cans and bottles. Returning discarded containers became the closest thing I had to a dependable source of income.

I searched for cans and bottles that other people had thrown away. Every ten containers represented one dollar.

The money I collected usually allowed me to buy only one or two hamburgers from McDonald’s each day.

That was not a complete diet or a sustainable financial plan. It was a way to convert other people’s discarded containers into enough money to eat something.

My daily economy was measured in 10-cent bottles and whether I could collect enough of them to buy one or two hamburgers.

The process required time and constant movement. Before I could eat, I first had to find enough returnable containers, carry them to a store, redeem them, and determine what I could afford with the money.

There was no financial margin. A day with fewer bottles meant less food.

Baseball Dugouts Became Temporary Shelter

For much of this period, I slept in baseball dugouts.

The dugouts provided some separation from open fields and sidewalks, but they were not enclosed housing. They did not provide heat, a bed, security, or reliable protection from Michigan winter weather.

I would sometimes wake up covered in snow.

After spending the night outside, I would go to McDonald’s and use the heated bathroom hand dryers to warm myself. I thought of it as defrosting.

This is one of the practical realities of homelessness that is easy to overlook. Without a home, basic needs stop being background parts of life.

Finding food, warmth, sleep, a bathroom, and somewhere safe enough to remain become daily tasks. Considerable time and energy are spent maintaining conditions that housed people often receive automatically.

Ron and Pauly Became My Informal Support Network

Although no formal assistance was made available to me, I was not entirely alone.

I met two other homeless people I knew as Ron and Pauly.

They provided something that mattered almost as much as material assistance: a social connection. They spent time with me, looked out for me, and helped make an isolating situation less solitary.

They understood the daily logistics because they were living through similar circumstances.

On one occasion, Ron gathered enough money to pay for a single night in a hotel.

One hotel night did not end anyone’s homelessness, but it provided temporary warmth, shelter, and rest. When every day is organized around immediate survival, even one protected night becomes significant.

• Formal help was absent: I did not receive a housing placement, regular food assistance, or a coordinated plan.
• Informal help still existed: Ron and Pauly provided companionship and watched out for me.
• Small resources had substantial value: One hotel night offered safety and recovery that were otherwise unavailable.
• Community formed among people with very little: The people closest to my situation were also the people most willing to understand it.

The Situation Lasted About Four Months

I remained homeless for approximately four months.

During that period, I continued collecting bottles and cans, buying limited food, sleeping in dugouts, and finding ways to warm myself during the winter.

The situation did not end because a formal homelessness program found me, because I saved enough money to rent housing, or because an institution created a transition plan.

It ended because my aunt decided to let me live with her.

That decision restored something I could not create through bottle returns or temporary survival strategies: a place where I was allowed to stay.

Moving in with my aunt did not erase the experience, but it ended that particular period of homelessness and gave me a foundation from which I could begin moving forward again.

What This Period Changed in Me

The experience made me resilient. It also taught me how to function as a survivor.

I learned that when ordinary systems and expected sources of support disappear, a person can become highly resourceful. I found food through bottle deposits. I found shelter in structures that were never designed for housing. I found warmth through public bathroom equipment. I found community among other people living without homes.

Those adaptations helped me survive, but survival should not be confused with stability.

A person can become skilled at enduring conditions that should never have been required of them.

The experience also changed how I understand homelessness.

Homelessness is often discussed as though it happens only after a person makes one predictable set of choices. My experience did not fit that simple explanation. I was a teenager whose housing depended on an adult allowing me to remain in the home.

Once that permission ended, I had no financial or institutional structure capable of replacing it.

Years later, my children and I would also experience homelessness through circumstances that were not caused by a lack of effort or willingness to work. That later period reinforced a lesson that began when I was 17: housing can be lost much faster than most people imagine, and capability alone does not guarantee that a person can immediately replace it.

What My Experience Demonstrates About Homelessness

My experience does not represent every homeless teenager or every form of housing loss. People become homeless through different combinations of family conflict, income loss, disability, abuse, eviction, institutional failure, relationship breakdown, and unavailable housing.

What my experience does demonstrate is how quickly a young person can move from a family home into survival conditions when no dependable alternative exists.

It also demonstrates the difference between being resourceful and having resources.

I was resourceful enough to locate food, shelter, warmth, and human connection. But I did not have the money, authority, support system, or access required to create stable housing on my own.

The difference mattered.

I survived those four months. I learned how much I could endure. I learned how quickly ordinary life can disappear, and how much effort it takes to replace even a small portion of what a home provides.

Most importantly, I learned that homelessness is not a reliable measure of a person’s intelligence, work ethic, character, or future potential.

Sometimes it is evidence that the person had fewer resources than the situation required.