We Keep Fighting So Someone Has a Morning to Wake Up To
There’s a line that’s been sitting with me lately:
We fight in this arena, so someone has a morning to wake up to.
It isn’t poetic for the sake of poetry. It’s literal.
For those of us working in homelessness and housing, this work is the arena. It’s loud, unforgiving, and relentless. There are no clean victories. No perfect systems. No moments where the bell rings and everyone agrees the fight is over.
There are only rounds.
Standing Up When You’ve Been Hit
Anyone who’s done this work long enough knows the feeling of getting rocked.
A project stalls. Funding falls apart. A neighbor pushes back. A system fails someone it was supposed to protect. A life is lost before help arrives.
And still we stand up.
Not because it’s easy.
Not because it’s heroic.
But because the alternative costs lives.
In the arena, standing back up is the job.
The Noise from the Outside
One of the hardest parts of this work isn’t the fight itself. It’s the voices coming from outside the ropes.
Advice from people who’ve never been in it.
Judgment from those who don’t carry the weight of the outcomes.
Criticism from observers who don’t stay when things get messy.
Here’s the truth we have to remember:
Do not listen to the judgment of people who are not in the arena with you.
If they aren’t holding the risk, the responsibility, and the consequences. If they aren’t the ones who get the call when something goes wrong. Their opinions don’t get to define the work.
The arena belongs to the people who show up.
Fighting for Mornings
When we talk about outcomes, it’s easy to reduce people to numbers. Beds created. Units delivered. Grants awarded. Those things matter. But they’re not the point.
The point is mornings.
A warm place to wake up.
A cup of coffee instead of frostbite.
A door that locks.
A body that makes it through the night.
Housing is not abstract policy. Shelter is not theoretical infrastructure. These are life and death interventions disguised as logistics.
The Work No One Sees
Most of this fight happens out of view:
In late night calls trying to keep a shelter open one more week
In spreadsheets that decide whether a project lives or dies
In tense meetings where you hold the line so others don’t have to
In compromises made so progress doesn’t stop entirely
There are no highlight reels for that work. But it’s the work that keeps people alive.
Why We Stay in the Arena
At Homeless Solutions Consultants, we don’t step into this space because it’s comfortable. We step in because systems don’t fix themselves and people can’t wait.
We help communities build shelters, housing pathways, and service systems not because we think we can solve homelessness overnight, but because every improvement buys someone time. And time is everything.
Time to heal.
Time to stabilize.
Time to live.
The Only Thing That Matters
At the end of the day, this isn’t about winning arguments, perfect plans, or polished reports.
It’s about refusing to step out of the arena.
Because as long as people are dying outside, the fight isn’t over.
And as long as someone can still have a morning, it’s worth standing back up.
By,
Matthew Vorderstrasse, M.A., PHM