The Frustration of Shelter Check-Ins

Shelter rules are rigid. I have to check in between 4-6 PM daily—no exceptions. I get it, but it’s a hassle, especially as a father. I spend every possible moment with my kids, so sometimes, they have to come with me. It took me a long time to be okay with them knowing I live in a shelter. Like everyone else, they had their own preconceived ideas of what that meant.

Check-in itself is quick—wait in line, confirm my bed number, grab a towel (because if you don’t, you might not get one later). My kids wait just outside the check-in window, where cameras and staff keep watch. It’s safe enough—for those 90 seconds.

Most days, no one says a word. But occasionally, a staff member will scold me for bringing my kids, as if I have another option. I can’t leave them outside—too many dangers lurk there. They can’t go upstairs, so they wait. Yet, I’m required to be here in person. A text, call, or email won’t do. Rules are rules.

The experience can feel dehumanizing. Most staff are polite but lack empathy. They treat everyone the same, not realizing that fairness and equality aren’t the same thing. Some people get leniency. Others—like me—feel like we can’t win.

(Note this image is AI-generated.)