By Dr Gregory P Smith OAM

The clearing of the Wilks Park encampment in Wagga Wagga, NSW, should concern all of us.

The action followed the tragic death of a baby girl at a riverbank encampment about a month earlier. Her death demanded an urgent response and should cause us to ask how a child and her family came to be living in such vulnerable circumstances.

Wagga Wagga City Council later issued move-on notices, and the encampment has now been cleared.

But from my own lived experience of homelessness, I know that clearing an encampment does not, by itself, make people safer.

Removing someone from a park does not give them a home.

I understand that council has responsibilities. Public land must be managed, community safety matters, and no child or adult should be living in conditions that place their life or health at risk. I also recognise the work being done by Homes NSW and local homelessness services.

The important question now is not whether the park has been cleared.

It is what has happened to the people who were living there.

When you are homeless, life becomes focused on survival. Where will I sleep tonight? Will my belongings still be there when I return? Can I find food, water and a bathroom? Will I be safe?

From the outside, a tent or caravan may look like disorder. For the person living there, it may have been the only stability they had managed to create.

It may have been where services could find them, where they had formed relationships, and where they felt less exposed than sleeping alone somewhere more hidden.

That does not make an encampment safe or suitable. It means leaving is not always simple.

People may have no money for rent, bond, transport or storage. They may lack identification, a working phone or internet access. They may also have a partner, a pet, health needs or belongings that cannot be taken into temporary accommodation.

Some have accepted help before, only to find it temporary, unsuitable or withdrawn. After enough disappointment, caution can look like refusal.

When I was homeless, I did not need people to assume they knew what was best for me. I needed people to listen and work with me.

Homelessness already takes away much of a person’s control. Repeated displacement can take even more.

Each move can mean losing contact with services, missing appointments, abandoning belongings or becoming separated from people who provide safety and support. It can push people into more hidden places, further from help and public view.

Wilks Park may now be clear, but that does not necessarily mean the homelessness has ended.

For some, it may simply have moved elsewhere.

Success must therefore be measured by what has happened to the people.

Do they have somewhere safe to stay? Is it suitable? Can they remain there long enough to rebuild stability? Or will they return to homelessness when temporary support ends?

Temporary accommodation can provide immediate shelter, but it is not the same as a home. Outreach is important, but contact is not the same as resolution.

The language used also matters. When homelessness is discussed mainly through compliance, enforcement and removal, a failure of housing and support systems can begin to sound like a failure of individual behaviour.

Homelessness is not a criminal condition.

A trauma-informed response recognises that behaviour has context. Anger may be fear. Avoidance may come from previous harm. Hesitation may come from not believing the alternative will be safe or lasting.

None of this means unsafe encampments should become permanent.

The death of a baby girl reminds us of the seriousness of the situation and the urgent need for action.

But urgency should not result in people being moved from one unsafe place to another.

The response must continue after the park has been cleared. It must be led by housing, care and dignity, not removal alone.

The question for Wagga Wagga is no longer:

“What happened to the encampment?”

It is:

“What has happened to the people?”

Clearing a park is visible.

Ending homelessness requires much more.