Denver is one of a number of U.S. cities that has installed brightly colored, repurposed parking meters designed to take donations to services for the city’s homeless. Intrigued by these “donation stations,” Severson took the idea back to her role as human services coordinator for the Johnson County Council of Governments, in Eastern Iowa.
Her timing was apt. Iowa City, the county seat, was then in the process of revising their panhandling ordinance, which would increase the restrictions on where panhandling could take place in the downtown area. It seemed like the perfect time to offer what city officials have now deemed an “alternative” to panhandling.
Iowa City Economic Development Coordinator Wendy Ford explains that many residents are sympathetic toward panhandlers and want to give to those who are down on their luck. Yet, some may feel uncomfortable giving directly to panhandlers, particularly under the new ordinance. “We wanted to give people an alternative to [giving to] panhandlers,” said Ford.
Nine purple parking meters, or, “donation stations” in Iowa City’s downtown will now serve as this alternative. As in other cities, the meters are installed by the city, with money going to programs and nonprofit organizations that provide services such as shelter, meals, and job training for the homeless.
Donation Stations have been sprouting up over the last several years in cities such as Baltimore, Las Vegas, Chattanooga, and Minneapolis. The number of meters in each town ranges from just a handful up to nearly 100 meters in cities like Denver.
Though many have heralded these programs as a success, not everyone is embracing the idea. Protests in Iowa City are mild, but clear. An Iowa news source reported that some of the meters had been adorned with notes reading lines like “this parking meter won’t sing you a song.” On a recent walk through downtown, Severson found small pieces of paper shoved in the coin slots, making donations impossible.
Other critics are less subtle. Representatives of national agencies such as the National Coalition for the Homeless or the National Law Center of Homelessness and Poverty have said that money from these type of programs does not truly reach those in need, and takes away from the personal contact experienced by giving directly to a person, rather than a machine. They claim that there are many more effective ways to generate revenue for the homelessness.
Indeed, the funds raised are modest: In Baltimore the estimates range from $2,400 to $4,800 annually, while the Denver program boasted about $8,500 in its first 6 months. In Iowa City (a town of 70,000) officials counted $180 in the first three weeks.
But many advocates say that these criticisms are missing part of the point. Though donation stations may not raise a large sum of money, they can function in an educational capacity, to create more visibility for ways to give, and services available to the homeless. Officials in cities such as Baltimore and Las Vegas have made this argument, and now Iowa City is doing the same.
“We want to bring information and awareness about homeless issues to people downtown,” said Severson. “We want to bring awareness that there are agencies that provide basic services…there are resources for people and they don’t need to panhandle.” Severson points out that, for its small size, Iowa City has a healthy number of programs to support the homeless, including a daily free lunch program, a free medical clinic, and a homeless shelter (soon to be more than doubling its size, in a new facility complete with on-site job training).
Though at first glance donation stations may seem like a no-brainer, their connection to panhandling restrictions can make them controversial. Yet at the same time, advocates believe that these programs can be a part of fostering a community ethos of philanthropy and service. Whether they’re in the mountains of Colorado, or the rolling fields of Iowa, donation stations are one small way that cities are making homelessness resources a more prominent part of the scenery.