Last week the New York Times reported on a roadside camp, underneath the causeway connecting Miami with Miami Beach, that was home to 70 convicted sex offenders. According to the story, there are tents and plywood shacks, rusty bicycles a generator and a skinny cat.
Now there are homeless people throughout this great country of ours who live in similar surroundings. Some are there because of circumstance, some because of substance abuse or mental illness and some simply because they enjoy the freedom, albeit without any amenities, that goes along with living on the streets.
But these sex offenders aren't there by choice, or because they are poor, or unskilled, or because they have no one who would take them in. They are there with the full knowledge and acquiescence of the corrections officials who are responsible for them. They are there because local laws designating areas where sex offenders are excluded from living have expanded to where there are no other choices. The American Civil Liberties Union has filed a lawsuit in state court to strike them down.
The people who created the laws eliminating other housing options were not necessarily mean spirited or inhumane. They passed these regulations out of concern for themselves, their communities and their children, assuming that if sex offenders were required to stay away from them, the problem of sexual abuse would go away or at least be diminished.
Of course that line of thinking discounts the fact that well over 90% of sexual abuse cases (both child and adult) are committed by someone who is known to the victim; such as a friend, relative, or some other person in a position of trust; and who, in all likelihood, has never been accused, much less convicted, of a sex crime.
It ignores the fact that sex offense is not a homogenous term. Those classified as sex offenders do not just include pedophiles, or the Alfonzo Rodriquez' of the world. They also include the immature 18 year old boy who got his 15 year old girlfriend pregnant; who then was prosecuted when the girls mother called the police. They include the man who, in the midst of a contenscious divorce, was accused of sexual assault by his soon to be ex-wife, but who had no other sexually suspect behavior in the past 10 years.
It also discounts what we know to be best practices for offenders. For instance, an offender living under a bridge is difficult to supervise, as they have no anchor point, and often flee supervision out of frustration. They also cannot be on electronic home monitoring or GPS, as they have no phone. For the same reason, it is difficult for them to work, because prospective employers have no way of contacting them. Because they don't work, they also are not likely to have transportation to attend treatment. And since, as a group, they aren't collegial and are unlikely to be employed, they get to spend large amounts of time sitting around, alone with whatever thoughts come their way; sometimes for days on end.
In the Florida case, virtually everyone from the Miami police chief, to the Governor has indicated that the situation is untenable, including suggesting that some laws need to be changed.. But according to Chief Timoney, "it's like a hot potato, everyone is just passing it on." The author of the current set of restrictions defends the law by saying, "If I can save some kids from going through this agony, I've done my job."
No one is even considering that those very restrictions just might contribute to people being victimized.
But that's Florida. In Minnesota the most common address given, when a sex offender is released, isn't under a bridge. It's one of the largest Twin Cities homeless shelters.