A visit to the world’s first Museum of Homelessness

The couple involved people with experience of homelessness in the design of the garden and the interiors, which they wanted to feel like a home. Out went what Ms Turtle calls the “hostel blue” linoleum; in came herringbone flooring. There is “wisdom” in the design, she adds. 

“A lot of people in the homeless community are neurodivergent, or those of us who are trauma survivors might [have the] processing [of] stuff going on and [become overwhelmed],” she says. “The community has designed a sensory border in the garden… The idea is that if we’re overwhelmed, we can walk up and smell the lavender, smell some rosemary, and ground [ourselves] through scent.”

Seven years ago, the couple imagined a museum with a residential element where people coming out of homelessness could live while receiving training in museum work and cultural practice. Ms Turtle thinks a homelessness museum is “more needed” now, but says the type of museum it is has been reshaped by the community, with the need for direct action “more urgent” due to rising homelessness.

The charity started conducting research and investigations “in response to misinformation” that exists about homeless people, she says. The museum also took over the Dying Homeless project, which collects and analyses data about people who die while they are homeless, from the Bureau of Investigative Journalism in 2019.

The museum’s work is split into four strands: research and campaigns; public-facing education on homelessness; building an archive; and direct action to support homeless people.

On non-exhibition days during the week, the museum provides facilities including community meals, sexual health drop-ins, and gardening and art sessions. Its Knowledge is Survival workshops on topics including healthcare and the asylum process, delivered weekly during June and July, are aimed at empowering the homeless community. Deep Dive, a free public politics and social affairs show hosted by Mr and Ms Turtle, will take place one Sunday a month.

The museum, which Ms Turtle says has an annual running cost of about £250,000, is funded by trusts, foundations and individuals. The charity does not take government contracts or funding. It is running a trauma-conscious coaching pilot with the aim that seven qualified coaches will provide paid-for training to frontline workers as an additional income stream. Ms Turtle hopes the exhibition will “wash its face” by attracting a paying audience.

When Inside Housing arrives for a preview of How to Survive the Apocalypse, we are greeted by a woman blowing bubbles and given a yellow ribbon bearing the words “Find refuge”. This is the first thing we will need to do if we are to survive the apocalypse – something we are later told is here now due to societal collapse. The production is not all doom and gloom though; hard-hitting facts are balanced with humour (listen out for Uncle Clive).

Instead of reading museum labels, we hear the words of people who donated items to the museum’s collection. Nell Hardy, one of the object storytellers, tells us about a homeless person’s walking stick. Ms Hardy herself became homeless when training as an actor and is the founder of Response Ability Theatre, a charity that represents and supports people who have experienced trauma. She says the “power of the art is in how authentic it is”.

“There’s a lot of nonsense in the [cultural industries] and a lot of appropriating stories for… whatever is convenient to make them mean [something] as opposed to what they actually mean,” she says. “So it’s such a breath of fresh air to be able to put the people first and say the art will make itself around the people, as opposed to having to make the people fit around the art.”