Here’s the thing: we need to have a serious talk about the obsession with cute names and phrases in the homelessness sector. You know, terms like “lived expertise” and “lived experts.” Who asked for this? Spoiler: it wasn’t homeless or formerly homeless people. In fact, most of us hate it. Let’s unpack this because, honestly, it’s long overdue.
The Problem with “Lived Expertise”
When did we decide that turning homelessness into a fluffy, sanitized concept with trendy language was a good idea? The phrase “lived expertise” sounds like something a branding consultant came up with after too much coffee and too little actual interaction with homeless people. It’s tokenism wrapped up in a buzzword. And worse, it’s downright patronizing.
Here’s what’s even more infuriating: calling someone an “expert” implies a level of respect and compensation that the sector has no intention of delivering. Consultants in the homelessness sector get paid six figures and are treated like royalty. Meanwhile, formerly homeless people—the so-called “lived experts”—are invited to speak at conferences for free or for peanuts. They’re also asked to serve on unpaid advisory committees, often without even covering travel expenses. If you’re going to call us experts, treat us like experts. Otherwise, drop the charade.
A Survivor, Not an “Expert”
Think about it: when someone beats cancer, we call them a cancer survivor, not an “expert in cancer.” So why does the homelessness sector feel the need to slap “expert” on us like it’s some kind of participation trophy? Surviving homelessness is not a badge of expertise; it’s a testament to resilience and grit—qualities that shouldn’t need fancy names to be recognized.
What’s worse is that this language doesn’t come from us. It’s imposed on us by well-meaning but disconnected professionals who never stop to ask what we prefer. At a National Alliance to End Homelessness conference a few years back, formerly homeless attendees rallied together to reject the term “lived expertise.” They hated it. But guess what? The sector still keeps using it.
Person-First Language Missed the Mark Too
Let’s rewind for a second to the rise of person-first language. “People experiencing homelessness” became the gold standard because it was supposed to emphasize humanity and reduce stigma. As I wrote in this post, this phrase doesn’t reflect the pain or struggle of homelessness and feels disconnected from reality. But here’s the rub: it doesn’t reflect the harsh reality of what homelessness actually is. Using the word “experiencing” makes it sound like a temporary inconvenience, like bad weather or a long DMV line. For many of us, it’s trauma, pain, and an uphill battle to escape. “Experiencing” doesn’t cut it.
Even the disability community, where person-first language originated, is now questioning its effectiveness. As articles from Elysian Collective and Radical Copyeditor explain, person-first language can feel isolating and clinical, like it’s trying too hard to separate the person from their reality. For formerly homeless people, the same critique applies. If the language feels disconnected from our lived truth, it’s not helping.
Stop Making It Cute
Here’s a wild idea: what if we stopped trying to make homelessness sound palatable and just told the truth? As The Philadelphia Citizen so aptly put it, “We should feel offended or unsettled when we hear the word ‘homeless’ not because we stigmatize those experiencing it but because we are ashamed at our own moral culpability in its existence and the continued harm it inflicts on the most vulnerable.” That shame shouldn’t inspire a rebranding exercise—it should drive real action. What if, instead of coming up with euphemisms and labels, we actually asked people who have been homeless what they want to be called? It’s not rocket science.
Want to know a red flag that an organization is out of touch with the people it claims to serve? They use terms like “lived expertise” without batting an eye. It’s performative allyship at its finest. If you’re genuinely listening to homeless and formerly homeless people, you’ll know they hate these terms. But listening is the key part—and let’s be real, it’s often missing.
What We Need Instead
We don’t need cute names. We don’t need tokenism disguised as inclusion. What we need is to be treated with dignity and respect. If you want to call us something, try asking us first. If you want to include us, pay us fairly and value our input the same way you value high-priced consultants. Stop overcomplicating it.
At the end of the day, homelessness isn’t a branding exercise. It’s a crisis. And it’s time the sector started acting like it.
