As one of Madison’s most visible populations by day, the homeless face an astounding dilemma come night: where to sleep?
Local shelters don’t have enough beds to accommodate all those seeking warmth — especially during the chilly winter months. But the problem is exacerbated for those who seek a free bed with alcohol on their breath, as the city does not currently offer a shelter that welcomes the intoxicated.
Local activists have asked Mayor Dave Cieslewicz to allot some $300,000 for a “wet shelter.” Solid logic sits behind such a project, as not only would it serve to help a homeless community that loses members to freezing deaths every year, but it would also serve as a means of separating a volatile and potentially violent group of individuals from the mainstream population. To be sure, such a “wet shelter” would benefit many people with varying socioeconomic situations.
But questions abound about the viability and responsibility of such a project. What safeguards would exist to protect staff and inhabitants from dangers that lurk behind he bottle? Would persons be willing to patronize such a shelter if it meant that their liquor would be confiscated at the door and, if not, is the city prepared to supervise potentially reckless and dangerous activity in one of its own shelters?
The more pressing question, of course, is whether or not such a haven from the cold would send an inadvertent message to the homeless population that the city tolerates alcoholic habits. While Madison surely shouldn’t become so paternal as to advise panhandlers where they may and may not spend their money, the reality remains that over-consumption by the homeless can pose a public safety risk for pedestrians. The current lack of a “wet shelter” offers a certain deterrent from such behavior, but with the development of one, seemingly all incentives to move toward a dry lifestyle would be forfeited.
And above all else, the daunting price tag of such a project stands as a major obstacle to construction, especially with the city already forced to stretch means thin.
The hopeful solution to all of these problems would appear to lie within compromise. Mayor Cieslewicz should aggressively lobby various private charities and foundations to underwrite the development of a shelter that would doubtlessly save lives. The shelter itself should be constructed and run to provide warmth, without allowing the shadowy comforts of alcohol. Bottles cannot be allowed inside (nor can needles or any other paraphernalia) — it is one thing to accept a sad situation in status quo form, but it is altogether another to supervise its continuation. And realizing that alcoholism is for many a disease, rehabilitation options must be strenuously pitched to occupants at every available moment, possibly even with clinic shuttles being available at check out time in the morning.
After all, rehabilitation for many may not just be the ticket out of a wet shelter, but out of shelters altogether.

