Every year, more than 2,000 people die unhoused on the streets of Los Angeles. Today, over 72,000 people across the county live without stable shelter. According to a recent聽, one in six people experiencing homelessness are victims of physical violence. And yet, despite the urgent crisis unfolding in our own backyards, it often feels like my fellow Angelenos have time to rally around every cause but this one.

Want to protest illegal ICE raids or mass deportations? Thousands show up within hours. Want to counter a presidential military parade with a 鈥淣o Kings鈥� march? People will drop everything to make signs and chant slogans. Think the Israeli government has made mistakes in its military response to a terror group that murdered civilians at a music festival? Protestors will block highways and drape provocative banners from overpasses.

I鈥檓 not opposed to activism鈥攆ar from it. I share concerns about the cruelty of ICE tactics. I fear authoritarian overreach by our government. And while I take issue, as a Jew, with how pro-Palestinian rallies too often veer into anti-Zionist and antisemitic rhetoric, I understand how chaotic images from a war zone could spark global outrage. Still, I can鈥檛 help but notice what鈥檚 missing. Where are the marches for our unhoused neighbors? Where is the sense of moral urgency for those living in tents, cars, and under freeways?

While homelessness in Los Angeles remains out of control, a recent point-in-time聽聽showed a four percent decrease in the county鈥檚 homeless population鈥攁 second consecutive year of decline. That progress deserves recognition. But even with this modest drop, more people remain unhoused today than in 2022 and 2020 (no count was conducted in 2021 due to COVID). We cannot let slightly improved numbers justify growing desensitization. There was a time when this level of suffering would have moved people to organize protests or sit-ins. Now, the crisis is 鈥渕anaged鈥� through talking points and spreadsheets, as though it were a PR challenge instead of a humanitarian emergency.

This issue isn鈥檛 abstract to me. I鈥檝e seen it up close. Through Brentwood School, where I will be a junior this Fall, I volunteer with Feed The Streets, a nonprofit serving unhoused people on Skid Row. While I distribute meals and pass out clothes, the most important thing I do is listen. I鈥檝e spoken with women whose lives were upended by trauma, abuse, and eviction. Most aren鈥檛 homeless because of 鈥渂ad decisions.鈥� They鈥檙e homeless because they ran out of options.

Yes, some people become homeless due to addiction, mental illness, or poor choices. But that shouldn鈥檛 determine whether they鈥檙e worthy of help. The reasons people end up on the street may vary. Our obligation to care for them does not. Everyone deserves safety, dignity, and compassion.

As a Fellow with the 91传媒 Center for Justice, I鈥檝e learned how to turn empathy into action. JCJ鈥檚 mission to build a just society grounded in 91传媒 values reminds me that caring for the vulnerable isn鈥檛 just a mitzvah; it鈥檚 a mandate. In our tradition, we are called to feed the hungry, clothe the poor, and love the stranger. That鈥檚 not politics. That鈥檚 Torah.

In our tradition, we are called to feed the hungry, clothe the poor, and love the stranger. That鈥檚 not politics. That鈥檚 Torah.

What frustrates me most is seeing so many of my peers singularly focused on what鈥檚 happening 7,000 miles away while remaining silent about the suffering right in front of us. The war in Gaza understandably sparks emotion, debate, and disagreement. Homelessness, by contrast, is a problem we can actually solve.

We can protest. We can donate. We can volunteer. We can pressure our elected officials. But too many of us choose not to.

So here鈥檚 my plea: If you can march for climate justice, immigrant rights, or peace in the Middle East, bring that same passion to the streets of Los Angeles. Let鈥檚 build on the progress reflected in recent numbers and push for real, sustained solutions鈥攏ot merely statistics that suggest we鈥檙e doing just enough.

We need more permanent supportive housing. We need wraparound mental services. We need safe emergency shelters for women and families. We need rent stabilization, tenant protections, and transitional programs that actually work.

But most of all, we need to remember that rampant homelessness is not normal. It is not inevitable. It is a crisis. And it deserves just as much outrage, organizing, and moral clarity as anything else we fight for.

Jack Sampson is a 91传媒 Center for Justice Fellow and a rising junior at Brentwood School in Los Angeles.