Housing Continues to Pose Significant Difficulties for Transgender Community in the Bay Area

Even in San Francisco, the “LGBTQ capital of the world,” Carolina Osoria was persistently turned down during her apartment search. Her identity as a transgender woman was nitpicked as a potential issue, she said.

When she was coming out in 2020, there was a lot on Osoria’s mind. Will I be able to get a job? Will I be able to afford a house? Will I feel safe in my house? Will I feel safe on the streets?

Finding affordable housing in the Bay Area can be tricky for anyone. But for transgender folks, the process can be more daunting, increasing the risk of homelessness. A study conducted by San Francisco-based Horizons Foundation in 2018 found 11% of transgender women, 6% of transgender men and 4% of non-binary respondents in the Bay Area stayed in a car or on the street at least once in the span of a year. In California, one in five transgender people reported having faced housing discrimination, such as being evicted or denied a home because of their gender identity, while nearly a third had been homeless at some point, according to a survey conducted by the National Center for Transgender Equality in 2015. Twenty-four percent of those who had experienced homelessness that year said they avoided staying at shelters because they feared mistreatment.

Originally from the Central Valley, Osoria works as a housing navigator for a coalition called Our Trans Home SF addressing trans homelessness in the Bay Area.

“A lot of trans people don’t go to navigation centers because they’re assaulted and raped and there’s no place to hide,” she said. “You’re in such close proximity to others and being visibly trans means you’re hyper-sexualized.” The 2015 national survey found nearly one-fifth of those who had stayed at a homeless shelter were physically attacked and 17% were sexually assaulted while there.

Many shelters are divided into men’s and women’s sections, and trans folks are sometimes misgendered. Sammie Rayner, chief operating officer at the nonprofit Community Forward SF, said restroom access and privacy for trans people are key challenges because services for homeless people are often “black and white about gender.”

“One of our clients said it so beautifully. She said I’ve done the work to know I don’t identify as a man and then to ask me to identify as one [for services] — I’m just not myself and I show up as someone I don’t even know,” Rayner recounted.

But the problem doesn’t stop at shelters. Jessi Taran, who lives in her converted bus in Richmond, said transgender people are discriminated against within the homeless community. Homeless people are so disempowered that when some get the chance to feel superior to others, they take it, she said.

“A transgender individual once came to the Rydin Road encampment in Richmond,” she said. “They didn’t have a place to sleep at night so one of the residents offered them a spot in his vehicle. But everyone teased him for it and he eventually insisted the trans person show him their genitals. Shortly after, the trans person left the community.”

According to Pau Crego, executive director at San Francisco’s Office of Transgender Initiatives, trans-focused organizations need support to deliver housing services and existing shelter services need to be more inclusive.

“As trans people, we have known this for a long time. Given that transphobia is still prevalent in society, it is safer to approach providers and programs that reflect and center our experiences,” he said.

For this reason, Jazzie’s Place was opened in San Francisco in 2015 — the first homeless shelter for LGBTQ adults in the country, former program manager Yesenia Lacayo said.

However, the shelter, which is overseen by Dolores Street Community Services, shut down during the pandemic and is still running at limited capacity. While it could accommodate 24 people pre-COVID, now there are only nine beds and a waiting list.

And at a time when anti-trans rhetoric and legislation have increased across the nation, California has modeled itself as a sanctuary state — passing a law to protect out-of-state trans youth seeking gender-affirming care in the state and their parents from legal retaliation. Homeless people from other states come to Jazzie’s Place for refuge.

There are not enough services to meet demand.

“We need more shelters like Jazzie’s, not just in the Bay Area but nationwide,” Lacayo said. “We get a lot of folks who come from other states and their stories are really scary. Stories that make us go – ‘Damn, I’m glad you’re alive.’”

Last year, San Francisco announced a plan to end trans homelessness by 2027 and allocated $6.5 million in its two-year budget for the same. The city has also put together a list of housing services for transgender and gender-nonconforming people. However, other parts of the Bay Area do not have comparable resources.

“Unfortunately, Santa Clara County has only one homeless shelter for the LGBTQ+ community and it’s always full with a waitlist to get in,” said Josh Selo, CEO at the Bill Wilson Center, a nonprofit working to end youth homelessness in the county. “Locally and federally, we need to dedicate more funds.”

Santa Clara County has collaborated with San Francisco’s Office of Transgender Initiatives, Our Trans Home SF and the Transgender District to discuss trans housing challenges and learn best practices, said spokesperson Quan Vu.