Tiny homes are a flawed solution to L.A.’s homelessness crisis, investigation finds

By Cal State L.A.’s University Times Community News

This article was first published by the nonprofit newsroom L.A. Public Press on Jan. 29, and is republished here with permission.

It’s easy to think of tiny homes as modern architectural marvels perched on cliffs with stunning views or luxurious and eco-friendly mini-abodes nestled in forests. That’s how they’re featured on shows like Netflix’s “Tiny House Nation.”

But tiny homes for Los Angeles residents experiencing homelessness look like backyard sheds. Each measuring 100 square feet or less, they are squeezed in rows behind chain link fences covered up with privacy screens. Some are tucked in industrial areas or along highways, and others are in the heart of busy city neighborhoods.

These tiny homes, built by government agencies and run by nonprofits, are touted as an affordable solution to California’s housing crisis.

They’re becoming even more important, experts say, since a Supreme Court ruling in June upheld cities’ rights to arrest people who camp outdoors on public property and LA County and others are actively implementing Calif. Gov. Gavin Newsom’s $80 million plan for tiny homes with 1,200 beds around the state to help address the homelessness crisis.

Residents who live in them say this quick-fix belies a darker reality.

While many residents say they’re glad to be off the streets, they also say they face a host of challenges. Interviews with more than 40 current and former residents of 10 tiny home villages in LA County, and a Los Angeles Public Press analysis of LA Homeless Services Authority data tracking residents and complaints for one dozen villages for a roughly one-year period ending March 1, 2024, found a host of serious problems.

Staff were unresponsive to complaints about noise, harassment, theft, and maintenance issues like leaks, floods, and broken heaters on cold nights. Critically, tiny home villages did not stem the tide of homelessness. Less than one-quarter of residents were placed into permanent housing upon leaving the villages, and more than half ended up homeless once more.

About 75,312 people in LA County and 45,252 in the city of LA are experiencing homelessness. That’s according to the 2024 LA Homeless Services Authority, or LAHSA, which conducted a new homeless count last month and will release that data later this year. Nearly 800 tiny units in one dozen villages, including one that opened last year, in LA County can house about 1,500 people.

Critics say they expect more out of the nonprofits, especially since those nonprofits spent a combined $38 million in the 2022-23 fiscal year to operate the villages, using public funds awarded by the city of LA’s Housing Department. About $11.5 million had been spent in the first eight months of the 2023-24 fiscal year, according to data released by a public records act request.

Most of that LA Housing Department funding went to Hope the Mission, which runs six  of the 12 villages in the county and took over operations of its seventh village in Echo Park more recently. Hope the Mission’s contracts to run the villages — which totaled $32.5 million over just under two years — have likely factored into the nonprofit’s growth. Hope the Mission’s net assets and revenue increased from $2.8 million in 2020 to about 28 times that, $78.7 million in 2023, according to its tax filings.

When there are limited resources, “You always have to think, ‘Where else can this money go?’” said Jared Nathan Schachner, a research scientist at USC’s Price School of Public Policy. “Are these the best, highest-impact use of the funds, or are there some alternatives?”

He said policy makers should look to less “resource-intensive” and more “evidence-based” solutions, like creating more public, low-income, and regular market-rate housing, expanding housing voucher and subsidy programs, creating emergency grants to help people facing evictions, and streamlining zoning rules in single-family home areas to allow for duplexes and triplexes and ADUs. Some of Schachner’s research has shown that metropolitan areas with higher concentrations of public housing tend to have lower rates of homelessness.

Schachner, who is part of USC’s Homelessness Policy Research Institute, added that the number of people who end up back on the streets from the tiny home villages is “very disappointing” and “an organizational failure.” But, he added, it’s important to remember that unhoused people can be tough to serve and having people off the street, even temporarily, could be better than the alternatives.

In terms of what can be done to improve existing tiny home villages, experts and residents said LAHSA should raise awareness about the agency’s role in overseeing the villages because residents would likely be more comfortable being honest about their complaints and requests with an outside group instead of the nonprofits running the villages. They say more could be done to boost the number of staff and improve their training. 

“Temporary housing is a good idea, but it has to be managed better. There have to be more trained case managers, and there have to be trained housing navigators available to help provide permanent housing to eligible recipients,” said Jane Demian, a local housing activist and member of the Eagle Rock Neighborhood Council’s Housing & Homelessness Committee. 

A lot is at stake in improving the tiny homes, especially because LA plans to keep building new villages. 

The city of LA received $33.4 million for six tiny home projects, as part of $80 million from the state that went toward 10 projects in Los Angeles, Sacramento, and Santa Clara counties, according to Monica Hassan, deputy director of the state’s Department of General Services. When completed, the villages are projected to provide more than 1,200 beds — including 500 beds in Los Angeles. She said one of LA’s six projects is under construction and should open soon, one is being designed, and four should start construction in April and open next year.

“We listened to our local partners and evolved to a program based on their needs,” Hassan said, adding that the state completed its role last fall. “We put the tools in place for the locals to move forward with their tiny home communities.”

Last summer, the governor signed into law a bill streamlining zoning and environmental requirements to catalyze the construction of tiny homes and other interim housing.

But for the tiny homes to work as a potential solution for LA’s homelessness crisis, local leaders will need a confront a slew of issues.

‘My heater turns off every night’

Residents of the tiny homes at the village in Wilmington recalled a heavy storm in early 2024 that led to severe flooding.

“The water was this high” in my unit, said Mayra Castillo, pointing to just below her knee. She said her suitcase and its contents were drenched for days. She knew she wouldn’t get a chance to wash them before they’d likely get moldy – especially because about 80 other residents needed to use the two washing machines. She threw it all out.

Those who lived at the bottom of the sloped village said the water was as high as their hips because of clogged drains nearby, said former resident Calvin Jones.

“Someone’s dog floated on a mattress on the water” so it wouldn’t drown, said Wendy McCracken, who lived there last year. 

Since then, a Wilmington village employee who was not authorized to speak to the media said some roofs have been fixed and others were covered with tarps. The employee reported that there were minimal issues during the storms this year, and resident Monique Martinez confirmed she only experienced minor dripping from the smoke detector on the ceiling.

Nineteen current and former residents in the Wilmington, Westlake, and Alexandria Park villages said they experience leaks when it rains and some said their belongings were damaged by leaks or flooding during storms in January and February 2024.

Part of the problem is the structure of the tiny homes. Spaces under the units’ walls let in water, pests, and cold air, according to residents.

“There are gaps all around,” said Paul Garcia, a former resident in Wilmington’s tiny home village.

That, coupled with broken heaters and thin walls, can make it cold in their units during winter nights, often nearly as cold as being outside, residents reported. Eleven people interviewed reported issues with broken heaters or very cold temperatures in their units.

Residents at Westlake tiny home village also said their heaters turn off sporadically, sometimes after just a few minutes of being on.

“My heater turns off every night. I wait 20 minutes and then it goes back on for [about] six minutes and then it turns off again. But I don’t know if they’re all like that on a timer, or just messed up,” said Roberto Gonzales, who was a Westlake tiny home resident.

Knowing he would “wake up freezing” if he didn’t, he said he wore a jacket to bed on the coldest nights.

A state contract with five vendors in January to build more tiny homes includes a requirement to “provide weather seal between door bottom and threshold.”

That’s something LAHSA could also consider requiring. For now, each tiny home village provider must have a grievance policy and procedure to let residents report concerns about services offered and the resident can ask LAHSA to also review that complaint if it’s not resolved, according to LAHSA.

“The Tiny Home Village provider is also expected to respond to work orders submitted by their staff or participants to address any repairs or maintenance-related issues at the THV site,” LAHSA added.

Some of the heaters in Wilmington have also given residents problems. “The heater goes on and turns off [about every] 15 minutes,” Garcia said. There were nights, “I couldn’t sleep, it was so f-ing cold.”

He said he wonders if the village’s operator is trying to save money by not fixing the heaters or reducing their usage — especially since the nonprofits that run the villages must pay the utility bills, according to city documents.

Residents in the Arroyo Seco village reported going without hot water for months.

For instance, Erick Olvero said from December 2023 to the last week of March 2024, there was only cold water and the staff didn’t provide clear answers on why. “We asked them since it was bothering us, but it was something to do with the pipeline I think,” he said.

Similarly, during a recent visit to Wilmington’s village, residents said they had been dealing with only two showers with hot water for more than 80 residents from fall 2024 to early 2025, which means they were only able to shower every few days because of the long wait times.

The noise, noise, noise

Twelve people interviewed said they wake up at night or are otherwise regularly bothered by people screaming due to mental illnesses, and said their own mental, emotional and physical health has been impacted by living in such close quarters to others with serious mental health issues.

Some suggested a need for more psychological services and treatments for residents while others suggested finding a way to separate those with more severe mental illnesses from other residents.

Deborah Lopez, in Alexandria Park, said her neighbor regularly screamed that someone was in her unit. “Every other day she’s screaming, ‘They’re raping me,’ and there’s nobody in her room because I go to check on her. She needs to be somewhere that she can get help,” she said.

Scott Holland, in the Alexandria Park village, said he often felt anxious in his unit because of all the racket.

“It kind of makes it very stressful [and] tense…when there’s people acting out like that. You know, banging on their walls or screaming or cussing,” said Holland, 33, who had been living in his tiny home for a few weeks when interviewed in late February 2024.

Services for residents experiencing mental illness vary from village to village. Most do wellness checks to identify possible issues early. Some, like Hope the Mission, have implemented measures to enhance residents’ safety, such as partnering with healthcare providers to expand on-site medical support for residents with chronic illnesses and provide addiction and mental health services, such as access to substance abuse treatment and harm reduction services.

Adding to the stress of living in a small tiny house unit are the frequent smoke alarms going off at all hours of night in some villages. “The smoke alarm goes off at 2 a.m., 3 a.m.,” Ellery Spotts in the Westlake village. “This happens a couple of times a week.”

Olvero from the Arroyo Seco village said overnight noise is a major concern because it results in sleep deprivation. Neighbors often “blast music all night without people telling them to turn it off … so I’ll have trouble sleeping at night,” he said.

Living in a tiny home can also be isolating for some, since friends and family members aren’t typically allowed to visit for safety reasons.

“I wish there was … somebody to talk to because I’m like, lonely now,” said Daniel Cararilla, who said he was a resident of the Chandler village.

Only some units in the villages are reserved for couples – about 10 in the Wilmington village, for instance, residents said, and LAHSA reported it has 75 homes with 85 beds. And residents in villages that allow pets say that has helped them, which is perhaps why all operators will be required to allow pets starting in July, according to LAHSA. But residents say they must be able to afford to feed them, which can be tough.

Expired food and not enough restrooms

Residents interviewed said there aren’t enough restrooms, and those with certain disabilities or illnesses said they struggle to find proper accommodations in other areas.

Tiny homes must “offer a minimum of one toilet, one sink or hand washing station and one shower for every fifteen participants,” according to city documents, but residents at some villages said that doesn’t always happen because some restrooms are out of order or employees keep them locked due to sanitary issues.

The access to restrooms — not having enough of them or wait times of up to 30 minutes to use them — was reported as an issue by 17 current and former residents interviewed at a handful of the villages.

At the Wilmington village, which has 85 beds, there were often two restrooms available for women while the others were locked, said McCraken. Wait times there were 10 minutes, lower than at some of the villages. Still, she said, “That’s a long time when you have to pee.”

Other accessibility issues deal with the food that’s available. Gonzales, who said he was a Westlake village resident, said he has a very restricted diet because of his medical condition, hyperkalemia.

“I can’t eat pasta, I have to be on a special diet. That’s one thing that they don’t usually have – [fresh] fruits and vegetables,” Gonzales said. 

Nonprofits operating the villages are required to provide residents with three “nutritional” meals and they “must make accommodations for participants with dietary restrictions, or who otherwise miss the designated meals, to ensure that they still receive their meals,” according to city documents.

At the Wilmington village, Monique Martinez and Renee Silvey said a typical breakfast — a single Pop-Tart or a packet of processed oatmeal — is not filling, nor nutritious. “They could give more food,” Silvey said. “Once in a blue moon, there’s coffee.”

Olvero, who said he was an Arroyo Seco resident in his mid-50s, alleged he has gotten sick from the food served. “I’ve been served expired food before that [gave me] diarrhea. [Sometimes] you know that you’re gonna get sick before you eat the food,” but he said, he and others risk it to avoid going hungry. 

Another resident from that village, Jorge Mena, confirmed he has also received food past the expiration date: “I still ate because I was hungry … I didn’t want to tell [employees or] make a big deal” about it.

Put down and ignored 

About 20 current and former residents interviewed said that employees either didn’t respond to their concerns or responded too late. Others said village staff exacerbated issues at times.

Garcia, from the Wilmington village, said when his unit flooded after a major storm in February 2023, his mattress was filled with water and none of the staffers there would help him carry it out – even though he said he told them of major back pain since a semi-truck fractured his pelvis in 2023.

“I can’t lift that,” he recalled telling them. “It’s not my job. You handle it,” one employee allegedly told him. When he explained his disability, he said he was told, “If you want a new mattress, you’ll do it.”

He said the three times he met with his two case managers to get help, he claimed he “was written up.”

Louis Cardona was homeless for a year before moving into the Arroyo Seco village in January with his teenage daughter, Celaya. He said while they were grateful to have a place to live, they were not thrilled with their experiences. As of early March, the two claim to be missing a bluetooth speaker, phone chargers, and a set of pens from their  home.”

He said that he had filed a written grievance with staff, and when he later asked for a copy of those complaints, staff told him they were unsure what happened to them.

The employees are also not great at managing the budget, according to resident Mayra Castillo, who has lived in the Wilmington village for more than two years. She alleged “they kind of mismanage the money. They run out of water” a lot.

Part of the problem, residents alleged, is that the program manager hires her own family members as employees of the village. “They are her family” so it’s hard for her to hold them accountable, Garcia said. Asked about this allegation, The Salvation Army spokesperson did not confirm nor address it in a statement.

In other cases, residents alleged that employees were unethical or rude. 

“They set their own rules … like you can’t have coffee after 2 a.m.” said Albert Sullivan, a former resident at the Westlake village. “[But] staff are there all day drinking coffee.”

“They act like, ‘I run this place so it’s my rules,’” he added. “A lot of [residents] are unhappy. They’re being put down and seen as not worthwhile.”

Juan Navarro, of the Alexandria Park village, claimed his first counselor stole a voucher from him and another former staff member stole two car chargers from him.

“He said you should put it in the office near my stuff, near my desk, and it’ll be a lot safer there. The next day I went to get it, and it was gone,” Navarro said.

He said he did not file formal complaints, thinking they wouldn’t help since the staff themselves would review them.

LAHSA said it has a three-step grievance process, whereby complaints are first handled by the nonprofit operator. If a resident wants to appeal that decision, LAHSA then evaluates the issue itself, checking that the provider followed required procedures.

If the resident wants to appeal that decision, LAHSA’s Risk Management Investigations Unit takes over to do an additional review. LAHSA said it has also created ways to allow people to provide direct, anonymous feedback through paper surveys or QR codes and requires village operators to collect feedback through satisfaction surveys or community meetings.

Damien Carmona, claimed that when he moved to Chandler village, the staff from his previous tiny home, in the Alexandria village, wouldn’t return his phone calls when he tried to retrieve his belongings. When he finally did reach someone, he recalled them saying, “We threw it away in the trash.”

Olvero, from the Arroyo Seco village, said he doesn’t like the surprise room checks staff do at all hours. “Even though the securities know that you’re not on drugs or anything like that, they just open your door at random times unexpectedly, and check in your home,” he said. “I just want better care from them and better service.”

Some residents also blamed cleanliness issues on staff. Deborah Lopez, of Alexandria Park, said she knew staff are required to clean the showers in between residents, but she said that rarely happens.

She alleged that a newer manager at the village, who seemed upset about a resident putting trash in a red biohazard bin, once sorted the bin’s contents right in front of a group of residents who were eating in the dining area, which seemed like a potential health hazard.  

And Alexia Smith claimed Westlake has more bugs than her old tent did.

“I used to live in a vacant lot…I had no rats, no mice, no roaches,” she said. Then, she said her unit at Westlake was “infested” and “deplorable,” and when she moved to a new unit, it was no better. “Why are the roaches still popping up?” she asked.

An official for Urban Alchemy, which manages the Westlake village, said staff are doing their best to help people experiencing homelessness: “This is a temporary shelter site for unhoused people, and our mission is to support them to the best of our ability. We strive to keep the site as clean and welcoming as we possibly can and stock supplies like Narcan to aid our guests in the event of an overdose or other emergency.”

The Salvation Army, which operates the tiny home village in Wilmington, did not comment on specific allegations from current and former residents, but Melinda Lankford, the communications director for the Salvation Army’s Southern California division, wrote that it meets monthly as as needs surface with partners at LAHSA, in local government and others for “regular program reviews to better support” the village. 

“As an organization, The Salvation Army strives to deliver the best level of care by implementing our best practices; and we are committed to providing a safe environment to our participants and employees,” Lankford said. “We will continue to serve our most vulnerable populations with dignity, love and compassion.”

A revolving door of case managers

Another problem related to staffing is the revolving door of case managers, who are supposed to check in regularly with their assigned residents to see what help or support they need; make appointments for residents to get social and other services; and help them get paperwork in order to prepare them for permanent housing. Case managers should meet with each resident monthly, and one case manager per 25 residents is ideal, according to city documents.

McCracken said she had four case managers over about 1.5 years at Wilmington.

Similarly, Alexandria Park has gone through at least six different managers over the past three years, according to Navarro, who said he had five different ones personally in the three years he had been living there.

Deborah Lopez, who had been living at Alexandria Park for about 1.5 years when interviewed, said that village managers have seemed to last only a few months before new ones are brought in, making it difficult to build a rapport with them.

“They keep coming and going. There were two managers that were here and all of a sudden, I guess they were promoted,” said Lopez, who claims managers don’t provide advance notice to village managers and residents. “That’s a shake up. You don’t do that — especially when we’re working with these people directly to get us a [permanent] place and then all of a sudden,” they’re gone.

She said that a former village counselor introduced arts and crafts, Bible study, and town hall meetings to the village, but those services disappeared in fall 2023 when the counselor left.

Lopez said that in early April, village staff said they sent a list of resident complaints, including issues related to allegedly filthy bathrooms, to Hope the Mission, the group that runs the village, and she is still waiting to hear back.

Hope the Mission said the nonprofit takes concerns about response times to complaints and site conditions very seriously: “Hope has a structured grievance policy in place, and all staff are trained to handle complaints promptly and effectively. Regular audits and resident feedback sessions help us to identify and rectify issues swiftly.”

33 deaths in 13 months

Nonprofits running the villages are required to keep their residents safe by installing an 8-foot wall or fence around each village and a booth with at least one security guard at each major entrance or exit and a 24-hour fire watch. They also prohibit weapons, drugs, and alcohol at the villages.

But those security measures haven’t stopped some residents from using drugs and overdosing on site.

Alexandria Village residents claim there have been a handful of overdoses. For instance, Shawn Pryor, who carries Narcan with him, said he “saved three lives” of people there who overdosed.

Navarro, who shares a unit with his wife and two dogs, Lotto and Nissi, said there have been between six to eight fentanyl overdoses at the Alexandria village, during his three years there.

“Nothing, too much, surprises me anymore but that kind of surprises me. That’s a lot of people dying … that’s just crazy. It’s really too much,” Navarro said.

LAHSA records show that 33 residents in 10 tiny home villages died in the 13 months that ended March 1, 2024. About two dozen of those deaths occurred at villages operated by Hope the Mission, including three at Alexandria Park.

According to Hope the Mission, the deaths in its villages were related to reasons such as medical conditions, overdoses due to substance abuse, and natural causes, including age or pre-existing health issues.

“Hope takes the well-being and safety of residents extremely seriously, and any loss of life is deeply tragic,” according to a statement from the nonprofit. 

According to Hope the Mission, staffers are trained in CPR, first aid, and overdose response. The nonprofit also said it has enhanced medical and wellness checks; expanded partnerships with healthcare providers to help people with chronic illnesses; and provided more access to substance abuse treatment and harm reduction services to help address problems. It’s also working on greater coordination with emergency services for faster response times for medical crises.

While Navarro said the environment at the village is easy for him to navigate, he has seen some crime onsite. For instance, he claimed that at least two people, including one staff member, have been caught with a firearm.

Similarly, several people overdosed at the Westlake village “right when the tiny homes opened two years ago,” Spotts claimed.

Sullivan, who used to live at Westlake Village, said the overdoses didn’t shock him at the time: “It’s to be expected.” He thinks the village employees should do more to help people who are addicted to drugs or alcohol.

“You don’t kick them out. You give them resources,” he said. 

Ian Clark-Johnson, the chief talent and development officer at Urban Alchemy, which runs Westlake village, said the nonprofit does its best to support residents and provide a safe environment. “We … stock supplies like Narcan to aid our guests in the event of an overdose or other emergency,” he said. 

Transition to permanent housing slower than expected

Another issue residents raised is how long it takes some villages to place clients in permanent housing – sometimes after waiting a year or more to receive a tiny home unit in the first place. While there are no hard or fast rules about how quickly residents should be placed into longer-term housing, officials have said the goal is 90 days. A “required services” document for the nonprofits running the villages says it should happen “as quickly as possible” and “when a participant is approaching an initial 90-day length of stay,” progress and engagement toward housing goals must be documented and reviewed – and that should happen again every 90 days after, if they’re still living there.

Tiny homes, which are typically between 64- and 100-square feet, were built as transitory housing intended to get people off the streets and into permanent housing. But critics say that hasn’t happened as much as expected, largely because of the lack of affordable permanent housing.

The average length of stay reported during a 13-month period of data provided in the 12 villages was 153 days – longer than the 90 days often cited as the ideal time and longer than the 119 days reported as of late 2022, according to the Architect’s Newspaper. Nearly half of those who left went back to “temporary situations.” For the year ending in February 2024, about 53% of those who left went back to being homeless.

Navarro had been living at Alexandria Park for three years when interviewed. He said he and his partner had not been given plans for permanent housing. However, he acknowledged that he hadn’t been “pushing the issue” either.

Wendy McCracken, a resident who had been at the Wilmington village for about 1.5 years when interviewed, was apparently recently placed into permanent housing, according to an employee of the village.

In a statement, LAHSA officials said its goal is to transition people into permanent housing within 90 days, but challenges for individuals can surface, along with a dearth of affordable permanent housing. The agency said it would rather keep working to find permanent housing than kick people out.

“Tiny Home providers are asked to develop a housing plan to address those challenges,” LAHSA said in the statement, adding that it has implemented a management system to help the agency and nonprofits involved identify systemic problems and bottlenecks so they can address them more quickly.

LAHSA said its permanent housing placements increased by 29% in the 2023-24 fiscal year compared to the year before, and it has created data dashboards for the public to stay informed of the progress.

Hope the Mission also noted that outcomes for placing people in permanent housing can vary because there isn’t a lot of housing available in LA; residents may not be as focused or engaged with their case managers about finding housing; and individual circumstances, like mental health or addiction, can create obstacles.

Urban Alchemy, which operates the Westlake tiny home village and ran the one in Echo Park until May 20, 2024, said it prides itself on providing guests with as much support as possible as they work toward permanent housing: “Our goal is to never put people on the street. If guests need additional time to make the transition from temporary to permanent housing, we will be there to support them. Urban Alchemy does the best it can with the resources provided to us under our contracts.”

In the city of Torrance, which runs its own Tiny Home village separate from LAHSA, some city council members were considering shutting down the village after its pilot year after learning only nine of the 40 residents had either been placed in or were waiting to move into permanent housing in the village’s first six months, according to the Daily Breeze.

In April 2022, after a heated debate over the issue, the Torrance City Council decided to give the tiny homes village two more years, but some local leaders said the village staff must do a better job finding permanent housing for its residents.

In the LAHSA network of tiny homes, residents said permanent homes that are safe and comfortable would help them feel grounded and ready to rebuild their lives.

When interviewed last year, Brianna Cortez, from the Alexandria village, said she and her partner just want a stable home and family. “We’re just some people that want to move forward with life,” she said. “We have goals. I have a future. I want to have kids.”

LA Public Press is an independent newsroom that publishes news in support of a healthier Los Angeles. The non-profit does journalism that interrogates systems of power while supporting those trying to build more equitable and resilient communities.

This story was produced in collaboration with Cal State LA’s University Times Community News. It was reported by: Julie Patel Liss, Marcos Franco, Tristan Longwell, Quinae Austin, Jonathan Chung, Brenda James Mwingira, Quinae Austin, Jonathan Chung,  Sydney Wanguhu, Bryan Antunez, and Emmanuel Villarruel.