In desperate times, only the most desperate qualify for housing vouchers.

There are a few themes that repeat when people call a newspaper office with a story idea. Sometimes it’s just to vent; sometimes they’re at their wit’s end with frustration and hope a story might provide the sunlight needed to change something.

A circumstance that was some combination of those two things prompted a woman to call the Weekly office a few weeks ago to share her story. I’ll call her Ellen, because she asked that her name not be published in case it hurts her future housing prospects.

When I talked to Ellen, she was living in an apartment in unincorporated Carmel, but it’s a temporary arrangement with reduced rent. She’s been disabled for 30 years and her only income now is disability payments. Her situation was precarious so she submitted an application for an emergency housing voucher, a federal program initiated during the pandemic to help get some of the most vulnerable people into housing. Ellen says she went through an intake process and was interviewed by a caseworker, using what’s known as the Vulnerability Index – Service Prioritization Decision Assistance Tool, or VI-SPDAT. But Ellen says her score was two points too low to qualify for a voucher.

“People like myself were just SOL,” she says. “I am not trying to push anyone out of the way, but it would be nice if people like me had a chance.”

Staff writer Pam Marino has been following the emergency housing voucher program that Ellen applied for and did not get; you can read her story on p. 8 about the 269 vouchers awarded to Monterey and San Benito counties, but have landed only 139 people in housing to date. Meanwhile, the Coalition of Homeless Service Providers has referred 800 people who could qualify for a voucher. And that, of course, is just the surface of the homeless community – there were 2,047 homeless people counted in a 2022 census.

Marino’s story is about those who did qualify, but there are hundreds of others who didn’t. I’ve been thinking about their conundrum. There are systems in place to help vulnerable people get shelter. But what about those who are vulnerable, but not vulnerable enough? Ellen does not suffer from mental illness or addiction; she was desperate, but maybe not desperate enough to qualify for a voucher. Then there are more who may have never been assessed according to VI-SPDAT, a system in use since 2016 by the Coalition of Homeless Service Providers (and other entities like them across the country). The Coalition works with many homeless-oriented nonprofits, and various caseworkers conduct the assessment, inputting information about a client. The specific questions in the VI-SPDAT assessment are not public information, but public records offer insight into the scoring tool. There are points for veterans, frail health and families with children. Priority goes to those with a VI-SPDAT of 8 or higher for individuals, 9 and up for families.

Of course there needs to be a standardized tool for triaging people in need of housing; the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development requires it, and without one we’d inevitably end up with personal bias influencing who qualifies for limited units. And of course the housing shortage in this region creates a problem – people are funneled into a too-small funnel because there isn’t enough housing at affordable, or even reasonable, rates. As Genevieve Lucas-Conwell puts it: “People are on the edge, and we already have a scarce amount of inventory.”

Lucas-Conwell is executive director of the Coalition, and is at work planning the Lead Me Home summit scheduled for September. One discussion there will be about VI-SPDAT and vulnerability assessments and which ones work best. “The Coalition is really invested in evolving with the community and the community’s needs,” Love says. “This is really important to us.”

I have not been able to reach Ellen since we spoke, and I don’t know where she landed. When we talked, she told me she was facing health challenges. “I might die, unless a miracle happens,” she says, then adds: “I do believe in miracles.”

I’m not sure if I believe in miracles, but I think what Ellen and people in a similar situation need isn’t miraculous. It’s enough housing to support regular people with regular needs, so that emergency programs can be available for people facing an emergency.

SARA RUBIN is the Weekly’s editor. Reach her at sara@mcweekly.com