
Campaign design team
By Vincent Cordova · November 23, 2025
The numbers show that America has forgotten how to care for each other.
A society that walks past nearly 800,000 homeless people every day is a society that has been emotionally shut down.
There are more than 771,000 human beings living outside in America right now—in tents, in cars, behind buildings, in alleys, in parks, under bridges, and in plain sight. This is the highest number in modern U.S. history. And yet, the nation has normalized it. How did we get here? How did we allow this? How did we turn our backs on an entire population of people whose only crime is suffering?
And why is the system so quick to blame “drugs” instead of acknowledging the truth: Drugs are not the cause of homelessness; they are a symptom of abandonment. People on the streets tell me directly that meth and fentanyl are given out sometimes for free—not because they are “choosing it,” but because someone benefits from keeping them addicted, immobile, and dehumanized. A society that abandons its most vulnerable has lost its moral compass.
A society doesn’t turn its back on more than half a million people unless the system has given it permission to. The system says, “they chose this.” The system says, “it’s the drugs.” The system says, “they don’t want help.” But the truth is something very different. Some are on drugs, others are not. Not out of kindness—but because addiction keeps them controlled, broken, and quiet. Addiction becomes the excuse to abandon them. Addiction becomes the “reason” society is allowed to ignore them.
The system created the conditions that put them there. The system benefits from portraying them as the problem. But they are not the problem. They are the result of a system that stopped valuing human beings. And here is the part people don’t want to talk about: If the system can turn its back on the homeless, it can turn its back on anyone. You, your family, your children — no one is safe when society decides a group of people are no longer worth protecting. We are supposed to take care of each other. We are supposed to see each other. We are supposed to lift each other — not step over each other. America forgot that.
And the first step toward change is simple:
Start seeing them again. Start caring again. Start feeling again.
They are our responsibility because they are our people. And if we don’t stand up for them now, the system will continue to abandon anyone it finds inconvenient. Real change begins the moment we refuse to look away.
According to the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD), the most recent point-in-time count shows:
This number is not an estimate from years ago. This is the 2024 federal count, taken on a single night across the United States. But even this number is incomplete. A point-in-time count only captures people who can be located by volunteers on one night. It does not include:
Independent researchers estimate the true annual number is likely 1.2 to 1.5 million Americans experiencing homelessness at some point each year.
These are not statistics. These are people. Human beings with families, memories, dreams, and dignity.
And as the number climbs, something even darker rises with it: Society’s decision to look away. No nation can say it protects children while allowing foster youth to be thrown onto the streets at eighteen. Abandonment at birth should not be followed by abandonment at adulthood.
For certain groups, it is FAR worse:
The numbers show something we don’t want to admit: America has stopped caring for its own. Not because the people are bad, but because the system has taught us to look away.
When 771,480 human beings are homeless — the highest number ever recorded — and life goes on as if nothing is wrong, it tells us: compassion has been replaced with survival; community has been replaced with individualism; empathy has been replaced with numbness; caring has been replaced with distraction. This is not who Americans truly are. This is who the system trained them to become. And now, we have to unlearn that numbness together.