Yes, on two (mercifully brief) occasions I have lived in a travel trailer. In the late 1960s, long before the word “homeless” was on our radar, that’s what I was. A caring friend offered me shelter in the tiny trailer parked in front of her house. In hindsight, I’m sure it was illegal.

But I was young, clueless, and optimistic. Not necessarily the situation facing our homeless neighbors today.

After a later stint in a legal RV, I am now blessed with a paid-off home and so much social capital that my personal chances of being cold, hungry or unloved are vanishingly small.

Still, it’s not hard for me to understand the fear my housed neighbors have of trashy trailers causing their property values to plummet, and fear of wildfire is something we all live with in Nevada County. In a world that is increasingly complex and uncertain, fear is rampant, driving us to attitudes and actions we are too frightened to examine thoughtfully.

First step: take a deep breath! Or maybe three…

Then reconnect with my pre-frontal cortex… the thinking part of my brain that is able to assess risk more accurately than my wonderful limbic system, which is still uneasy about the danger of saber-tooth tigers. “It is safe to relax a bit, Scottie; let’s think this through.”

There will be real benefits to all of us to have more of our neighbors in safe, permanent housing. I want to live in a community that wraps its collective arms around folks who are struggling. That doesn’t happen if I just stand by and fret!

How might we begin?

Anyone born in the United States in the last 100 years grew up with the assumption that owning a single-family-home-with-a-nice-green-lawn was the goal. There were supposed to be carefree children playing on backyard swingsets while proud parents watched… The American Dream! That vision never included RVs as dwellings, and many are viscerally dismayed to imagine it. I’d suggest that we may be clinging to a vision that has passed its sell-by date.

            Yes, we are collectively grieving that loss. And yes, some of us are aggrieved that what we felt promised is less and less available. Our only real option, in a world where change is unstoppable, is to grieve and grow.

What might that look like? The Tiny Homes on Wheels ordinance is a piece of it. Broadly, I support it. It looks to me like the risk/benefit ratio is acceptable. Does it need refining? That’s likely. Does that mean we should bunker up and angrily refuse to look at it together? I think we’re collectively smarter and more caring than that.

Come on, Neighbors; we can do this!