Our People, Our Purpose: Housing First Works in Rural Minnesota

“At Southwest Minnesota Housing Partnership, we believe safe and stable housing is a fundamental human right. But in the rural communities we serve—where shelter beds are scarce and winters don’t mess around—that right can be incredibly hard to access, especially for people who don’t fit neatly into the federal definitions of homelessness.

Our supportive services team oversees several housing programs, including Housing Supports (formerly known as GRH). It’s a state-funded program that allows people with low income and high barriers to remain stably housed, even if they don’t have a job or a perfect track record. It’s also the main funding source for Solace Apartments, a 30-unit building in St. Peter that came out of a simple but powerful idea: what if people graduating from treatment court had somewhere safe to go besides right back into the environments where they used to use?

Solace was built on that idea, and today it houses many people in recovery—or at least working toward it. Because recovery, as we all know, is not a straight line.

Take Sally (not her real name), who came to Solace straight from a treatment program. She had relied on meth during her time homeless—not to party, but to stay awake, so no one would hurt her or steal her things while she slept. By the time she got to us, meth had taken nearly everything: her health, her job, and the relationship with her children. She couldn’t seem to make it to the 90-day mark without relapsing, and each time she used, she risked probation violations, jail, and eviction.

But Sally wasn’t evicted. She was housed through Housing Supports, which meant that even after losing her job, she didn’t lose her apartment. Our team advocated for her in treatment court and helped her reconnect to services. She got to try again. And again.

Today, she’s over two years sober. She works at a university. Two of her adult sons live with her. If she’d lost her housing when she relapsed, there’s no way she’d be where she is now.

That’s what Housing First is all about: not asking people to earn their housing through perfect behavior or compliance but offering it as a foundation—a place from which stability can grow.

The problem is, whether someone qualifies for that housing often depends on how we define “homeless.”

Under federal rules, a person who’s couch-hopping or crashing with friends isn’t considered homeless—even if they’re just as vulnerable and unstable as someone in a car or a tent. That means they’re often ineligible for federally funded housing programs. Minnesota, thankfully, takes a broader view: our definition of long-term homelessness does include doubled-up living situations. And in Greater Minnesota, where shelter space is limited and neighbors often fill the gap, that definition is critical.

To put it in perspective: 80 of Minnesota’s 87 counties don’t have enough shelter beds to meet the need. In the 18-county region we serve, there are just 56 shelter beds for a population of 275,000 people. In this context, a couch isn’t just a temporary place to land—it might be the only barrier between someone and the deadly consequences of a Minnesota winter.

The 2024 Point-in-Time Count backed up what we see on the ground every day: homelessness is increasing in Greater Minnesota, and unsheltered homelessness jumped by 53% in just one year. Most of those counted outside were single adults, many with serious mental illness, substance use disorders, or both.

These aren’t personal failings. They’re systemic failures—gaps in housing, services, and support that leave people without a safe place to land.

Programs like Housing Supports aren’t perfect (I could write a whole other essay on their shortfalls) but they do give us the flexibility to meet people where they are. They make it possible to house people like Sally, even when they don’t qualify under stricter federal rules. And they let us stay true to our values: that everyone deserves a home, no matter how messy or complicated their journey might be.

Sally’s story isn’t unique. But it is a reminder that Housing First isn’t just a best practice—it’s a promise. One we need the funding and flexibility to keep.”