“Claire”, 40, told us that when she doesn’t have access to a toilet, she’s forced to bury her waste near where she sleeps. “It attracts flies, and I can still smell it,” she said. During her period, the lack of privacy and sanitation is even harder: “It’s a human right to have a place to go.”
“Edgar”, 38, shared that he’s urinated on himself after being unable to find a toilet and has suffered a UTI from holding it too long. These are not isolated stories—they reflect the daily reality of hundreds of unhoused neighbors in Mesa County.
We also hire people from the unhoused community to maintain our toilets, providing reliable income and a sense of pride. “Linda”, who worked with us in 2024, transitioned out of her role after moving into transitional housing. Crystal, our current maintenance employee, has transformed our sites- her leadership and trust within the community have inspired others to help keep toilets clean. She’s now taking Rent Smart classes and saving for a place of her own.
Funding this work is challenging. Because our toilets aren’t connected to the city sewer system, we don’t qualify for utility or infrastructure grants. And because we focus on providing access- not tracking housing placements- we don’t fit neatly into most homelessness or housing grant categories. Out of respect for our users’ privacy, we avoid collecting identifiable data, relying instead on qualitative interviews and relationship-building to measure impact.
Finally, perhaps the biggest barrier to funding is awareness itself. Most people can’t imagine what life is like without a toilet. But for our users, bathroom access is the first step toward dignity, health, and stability- and ultimately, toward housing.
