L.A. Promises to Clear 9,800 Camps—But Where Are the Homeless Going?

A Deepening Conflict Over Homelessness and City Cleanups

Musician Dennis Henriquez found himself in an unexpected situation last month when he awoke in a doorway in East Hollywood, hidden behind cardboard and a tarp. As he looked outside, he saw several sanitation workers waiting to conduct one of over 30 encampment cleanups planned for the day by the city of Los Angeles.

Henriquez eventually emerged, carrying a bicycle and placing it on a grassy area about 20 feet away. He also moved a backpack, a scooter, two guitars, a piece of luggage, and a beach chair. The city sanitation crew then took the tarp and cardboard, tossing them into a trash truck before leaving, leaving Henriquez and his belongings behind.

These operations, known as CARE-plus cleanups, occur hundreds of times weekly in the city. They involve the removal and destruction of tents, tarps, pallets, shopping carts, and other items. These cleanups have become a major point of contention in a five-year-old legal dispute over how the city is handling the homelessness crisis.

In 2022, city leaders reached a settlement with the nonprofit L.A. Alliance for Human Rights, promising to create 12,915 homeless beds or other housing opportunities by June 2027. They also agreed to remove 9,800 homeless encampments by June 2026, defining an encampment as any tent, makeshift structure, car, or recreational vehicle.

To meet this goal, city leaders have counted each encampment removed from streets, sidewalks, and alleys during the Bureau of Sanitation’s CARE-plus cleanups. However, the alliance has strongly objected to this methodology, arguing that destroying a tent without providing housing violates the 2022 agreement.

Elizabeth Mitchell, an attorney for the alliance, said, "If the person insists on staying where they are and nothing else has happened, that's not a resolution. They can't count that."

City leaders have defended the cleanups, citing the need to protect public safety and restore sidewalk access for wheelchair users, the elderly, and others. Some encampments are strewn with debris that spills across entire walkways, while others carry the smell of urine, fecal matter, or decaying food waste.

The cleanups often feel Sisyphean, as many residents move their tents across the street, wait out the cleanup, and return later. This cycle frequently repeats every week or two.

The alliance's legal team has raised concerns about the inclusion of CARE-plus cleanups in the encampment reduction count. Recently, they tried to persuade a federal judge to take control of the city’s homelessness initiatives from Mayor Karen Bass and the City Council and turn them over to a third-party receiver. U.S. Dist. Judge David O. Carter declined this request but made it clear that he objects to the city’s approach.

In March, Carter issued a court order stating that the city may not count CARE-plus cleanups toward its goal because they are not permanent in nature. In a recent 62-page ruling, he found the city had "willfully disobeyed" this order and improperly reported its encampment reductions.

Attorney Shayla Myers, who represents homeless advocacy groups, has opposed the 9,800 goal from the beginning, arguing it creates a quota system that increases the likelihood of property rights violations. “Throwing away tents doesn’t help the homelessness crisis,” she said. “Building housing does.”

City Administrative Officer Matt Szabo, who helped negotiate the settlement, told the court that his office does not count tents that homeless people temporarily move during cleanups. However, the city includes those that are permanently removed due to blocking sidewalks or posing public health or safety threats.

Szabo emphasized that when negotiating the promise to remove 9,800 encampments, he did not expect every tent removal to lead to someone moving inside. He also noted that encampment residents have "free will" to refuse an offer of housing.

For an outside observer, it might be difficult to discern what the different types of city encampment operations are designed to accomplish. Bass’ Inside Safe initiative moves homeless people into hotel and motel rooms, and at least in some cases, permanent housing. By contrast, CARE cleanups — shorthand for Cleanup and Rapid Engagement — are largely focused on trash removal, with crews hauling away debris from curbs and surrounding areas.

CARE-plus cleanups are more comprehensive. Every tent must be moved so workers can haul away debris and, in some instances, powerwash sidewalks. Sanitation crews are supposed to give residents advance warning of a scheduled CARE-plus cleanup, posting notices on utility poles. If residents don’t relocate their tents and other belongings, they risk having them taken away.

In some cases, cleanup crews take the possessions to a downtown storage facility. In many others, they are tossed. One of the largest CARE-plus cleanups in recent weeks took place in the Westlake district, where nearly three dozen tents and structures lined a stretch of Wilshire Boulevard. A construction loader drove back and forth on the sidewalk, scooping up tents and depositing them in a trash truck.

Ryan Cranford, 42, said he didn’t know the cleanup was scheduled until minutes beforehand. He wound up losing his tent, a bed, and a canopy, but managed to keep his backpack, saying it contained "all that matters." Sitting on a nearby retaining wall, Cranford said he would have accepted a motel room had someone offered one.

On the opposite side of the street, Tyson Lewis Angeles wheeled his belongings down the street in a shopping cart before sanitation workers descended on his spot. He said an outreach worker had given him a referral for a shelter bed the day before. Angeles, 30, said he was not interested, in part because he deals with panic attacks, PTSD, and other mental health issues. He also does not want a roommate or the rules imposed by homeless shelters.

While Angeles managed to safeguard his possessions, others are frequently less successful. Nicholas Johnson, who is living in a box truck in Silver Lake, said city crews took the vast majority of his belongings during a CARE-plus cleanup in mid-June. Some were destroyed, while others were transported by sanitation workers to a downtown storage facility.

Johnson, 56, said he does not know whether some of his most prized possessions, including letters written by his grandmother, went into that facility or were tossed. City crews also took books, tools, his Buddhist prayer bowls, and a huge amount of clothes. "All of my clothing — all of my clothing — the wearables and the sellables, all mixed in," he said.

Johnson described the city's cleanup process as a "harassment ceremony" that only makes life more stressful for people on the street. "They hit you in the kneecaps when they know you're already down," he said.

Earlier this year, city officials informed the court that they had removed about 6,100 tents, makeshift shelters, and vehicles — nearly two-thirds of what the agreement with the alliance requires. Whether the city will challenge any portion of the judge's ruling is still unclear.

In a statement, a lawyer for the city contends that the ruling "misconstrues the city's obligations." "We are keeping open our options for next steps," said the lawyer, Theane Evangelis.