It’s easy to talk about policy in theory — in numbers, proposals, and headlines. But when you’ve lived through its failures, you know those policies are more than abstract debates. They shape real lives. Every time funding is cut or a bill fails to pass, a young person — often a teenager just trying to make it through school — is left to figure things out alone.
I was one of them.
In high school, I experienced homelessness while juggling AP classes, part-time jobs, and college applications. I was also living with Type 1 diabetes, a chronic condition I’ve managed since I was 3 years old. I had to calculate my insulin, monitor my blood sugar levels, and keep emergency snacks on hand — all while not knowing where I’d sleep at night. The stress of not having a stable home directly affected my health. I lived in a youth shelter for a time, and I still remember waking up at 3 a.m. to treat a dangerous low, wondering what would happen if I ever ran out of insulin.
Despite the chaos, I got accepted into 56 colleges, including my dream school, Spelman College. But it shouldn’t take superhuman resilience to access safety and opportunity. No young person should be forced to choose between surviving and succeeding.
Georgia is home to thousands of youth and young adults experiencing homelessness, yet they often remain invisible in official counts. Because many youth don’t meet the traditional image of “homelessness” — sleeping in cars, couch surfing, or staying temporarily with friends — they’re overlooked by the very systems designed to support them. As a result, they can’t access critical resources like food assistance, mental health care, or even safe shelters.
The barriers don’t stop there. Georgia has few shelters that cater to young people specifically. Many require IDs, which homeless youth often don’t have. Others impose curfews that don’t align with school or work schedules. And for those living with chronic conditions like mine, accessing healthcare or prescriptions without stable housing becomes even more daunting — sometimes even dangerous.
Some efforts have been made. Georgia’s 2022 legislation requiring schools to identify and support homeless students was a step in the right direction. But implementation has been spotty. Many schools simply don’t have the staff or funding to carry out the policy effectively. What’s more, youth who’ve aged out of school, especially those who’ve also aged out of foster care, fall through the cracks entirely.
Statistics show that within two years of aging out of foster care, nearly one in four young people in Georgia experience homelessness. That means a quarter of young adults transitioning into independence are left without housing, often with no safety net. And Black youth and LGBTQ+ youth, who are overrepresented in both the foster care and homeless populations, face even higher risks due to systemic discrimination and a lack of targeted support.
We cannot talk about solving youth homelessness in Georgia without also addressing access to healthcare, racial equity, LGBTQ+ protections, and economic mobility. These issues are deeply intertwined. When policy fails to account for that intersectionality, young people suffer.
So what can be done?
Georgia must invest in transitional housing and make it accessible not only to youth aging out of foster care, but also to those who are unaccompanied or fleeing unsafe homes. Shelters should be staffed with trained professionals who understand trauma, youth development, and chronic health needs. Schools must be equipped not just to identify homelessness, but to respond meaningfully. And policymakers need to ensure that services extend beyond age 18 or 21 because homelessness doesn’t end with a birthday.
We also need better data. If we can’t count youth experiencing homelessness accurately, how can we design policies that meet their needs? Funding must follow facts, and our current numbers are woefully incomplete.
But beyond policies and programs, what we need most is perspective. Youth like me aren’t statistics. We are students, workers, siblings, and dreamers. We deserve a seat at the table where decisions are made. Our stories should be heard — not as exceptions, but as examples of what’s possible when young people are supported.
To every young person navigating homelessness in Georgia: you are not alone. Your struggle is valid. Your health matters. Your voice matters. And your future is still yours.
