If I couldn’t go home tonight, I wouldn’t start by Googling the nearest emergency shelter. First, I’d probably text a friend or two. Maybe call my sister. If they were all a no-go, I’d start thinking about hotels, sketchy motels with questionable reviews, or maybe that one co-worker who once said, “You should drop by anytime!” (This is the moment I’d cash in on that offer and hope they didn’t mean it in a Canadian-nice kind of way.)

The point is: shelter wouldn’t be first. It would be pretty far down the list, after I’d exhausted all my social, and financial favours.

Now imagine you’re in the middle of a personal crisis. Maybe just lost your housing or fled a situation you couldn’t stay in. Your brain’s not firing on all cylinders. In fact, it’s probably stuck in full-on stress mode. In those moments, even the obvious options (like your cousin with the basement apartment or your old roommate) can feel totally out of reach or just not cross your mind at all.

This is why diversion isn’t about pushing people away. It’s about pulling options out – options that are already there but may be buried under a pile of fear, exhaustion, and survival brain.

We sometimes hear people say, “If they had someone they could stay with, they would’ve already gone to them.” But that’s not necessarily true. When you’re in the thick of crisis, the part of your brain responsible for creative problem solving takes a little vacation. You need another human (that’s us, shelter workers!) to help you slow down, breathe a bit, and talk it out. Not in a pressure-y way, but in that “let’s brainstorm like we’re trying to find the best takeout at 2am” kind of way. Safe, collaborative, and judgment-free.

And here’s the kicker: people experiencing homelessness still have relationships. They may be strained, or unconventional, but they exist. We can’t assume folks walk into shelter with zero social capital just because things are tough right now. Most people have something. Perhaps a friend, a former landlord, a couch they might not want to use but could if given the right support to explore and approach it.

Diversion is not about being unrealistic. It’s about not giving up too quickly on the possibilities. It’s about making the time and space for people to imagine what else could work before resorting to shelter. Because if it were you or me, we’d want that too.

So next time someone comes through the door, try approaching it like this: “Let’s think through every option before we settle on the hardest one.” Not because we’re trying to deny help, but because the best help might be something they didn’t even realize was still possible.

And hey, if your cousin with the basement apartment is reading this… I may be calling you tonight. Just kidding. (Kind of.)