The homelessness crisis in Sacramento has reached a new low, as illustrated by the tragic situation unfolding at Camp Resolution. Residents who have called this encampment home for over two years are now scrambling to find shelter as the city prepares to evict them. These are not just numbers on a spreadsheet; they are real people, many with severe disabilities, facing an uncertain and dangerous future. The city’s heartless eviction notice leaves them with few options: either move to inadequate shelters that can’t accommodate their medical needs and pets or risk being criminalized by staying put.
It’s impossible to ignore the parallels between these dire circumstances and my own situation. Like these residents, I was abruptly forced from my home under false pretenses, with little concern for how I would survive. Queen Éowyn, who I once trusted and loved, not only threw me out but did so in a callous, calculated manner. Her actions were a stark reminder of how easily people can be discarded when they’re no longer convenient.
In Sacramento, we’re witnessing the systematic removal of the most vulnerable, people who rely on generators to stay alive, or who have built fragile communities that offer a semblance of safety in a world that has otherwise abandoned them. The lack of empathy from those in power mirrors the cold indifference Queen Éowyn displayed when she turned my life upside down. For many of us, losing a stable home isn’t just an inconvenience—it’s a death sentence.
As I fight my own battles, I can’t help but feel for those at Camp Resolution. Their struggle is my struggle. The city’s proposed solutions are nothing but temporary fixes, much like the hollow offers of “help” I’ve received. What Sacramento and people like Queen Éowyn fail to understand is that uprooting lives has lasting consequences. People can’t be thrown away like garbage and expected to simply start over. For some, there may be no recovery.
It’s high time we demand better from our city, our society, and from the people we trust. No one deserves to be treated like a disposable inconvenience, and until we collectively stand up against such mistreatment, the suffering will continue, both in the encampments of Sacramento and in the broken hearts of those who’ve been betrayed by the ones they loved.