
Glen Garner, who is homeless, tries to cool off in the 99-degree heat in Edward Rendon Sr. Park at Festival Beach in Austin, TX, on July 1, 2024. “It’s tough,” he said of trying to survive the extreme heat.
Santa Monica, California – With more than 187,000 people sleeping on California’s streets and in shelters, the state’s homeless services industry is facing a major workforce crisis. Despite an overwhelming need, agencies struggle to hire and retain enough qualified staff to provide critical care to unhoused residents.
In response, Santa Monica College launched a first-of-its-kind community college program in 2023 to train the next generation of frontline homeless services workers. But just one year in, the program is already on shaky ground — hampered by unreliable funding, high dropout rates, and broader political turmoil that has long plagued California’s response to homelessness.
“We know the value added when somebody is adequately trained before they’re deployed,” said Vanessa Rios of the Los Angeles Homeless Services Authority (LAHSA), which funds the program. “It would be a disservice to our system should we not fund and support this effort. Where the dollars (will) come from, I don’t know.”
The state’s Homeless Housing, Assistance and Prevention (HHAP) fund initially provided $750,000 to support the program. But that money is nearly gone — and Governor Gavin Newsom’s latest budget proposal includes no new HHAP funding, leaving the program’s future in limbo. Rios said LAHSA is seeking new funding sources, but if none emerge, the program won’t admit a new class until at least spring 2026.
The uncertainty comes as the state faces a severe staffing shortfall. A 2022 report by KPMG and the United Way found that Los Angeles County alone needs more than 11,500 homeless services workers — over 3,000 more than it currently employs.
Student Tamyra Simpson, who juggles nannying in Los Feliz with the intensive program at Santa Monica College, is one of just 27 selected students from a pool of 70 applicants. Now, only about half remain. Some dropped out due to housing insecurity or long commutes; others struggled to balance work and study.
“I really ask myself, ‘Can I do this?’” Simpson said. “But there’s so much value in this program, this experience. I don’t think I would have changed anything if I could.”
The program offers students training in best practices, trauma-informed care, and techniques to prevent burnout — culminating in a paid internship with local nonprofits. Yet the career path remains daunting. Entry-level jobs in homeless services pay between $21 and $25 per hour — often less than other service jobs like nannying. Meanwhile, stress and burnout are rampant.
“This sector does not pay livable wages unless you’re in senior management,” said Celina Alvarez, executive director of Housing Works and one of the program’s instructors. “They are first responders. They don’t even have access to mental health support.”
Despite these challenges, Simpson remains hopeful the program will continue. “We’re essentially the guinea pigs,” she said. “At its core, it’s an incredible opportunity.”