Katie Spencer-White is president and CEO of Mid-Maine Homeless Shelter & Services.
Back in January, like emergency shelter directors across the state, I fielded calls
from police and fire chiefs, civic leaders and concerned community members, all of whom were deeply worried about a severe drop in temperature that was anticipated, compounded by predictions of significant snowfall.
I reassure them: as with every winter storm, our doors are open, and no one will be turned
away.
But this service is not guaranteed. Too many of Maine’s emergency shelters are facing a
perilous future due to chronic underinvestment by federal, state and local policy makers,
and a philanthropic community that wants to solve systemic problems rather than address
never-ending emergencies like homelessness.
According to a 2024 study by MaineHousing, current state and federal funding for
emergency shelters in Maine is just $7.16 per night for a service that costs $102 per diem.
That means shelter providers must fundraise the rest, which is much harder than it used to be.
It should be an easy sell. As a community, we pride ourselves on looking out for one another, especially when winter sets in and the cold turns dangerous. The decision to sustain an emergency shelter is not just a charitable act; it is a moral responsibility rooted in compassion, dignity and common sense. It is also a decision that strengthens, rather than burdens, our local economy.
At its core, an emergency shelter reflects the simple belief that no one should risk serious injury or death from exposure because they lack safe shelter on the coldest nights of the year. When temperatures drop in Maine, exposure can become life-threatening within hours. Providing a warm, supervised space is the most basic expression of our shared humanity.
We do not ask whether someone “deserves” warmth, safety or life itself. We recognize that protecting human life is a value that transcends politics, income and circumstance. Beyond its moral necessity, the emergency shelter also makes sound economic sense for our community. Emergency services are expensive. When people are forced to remain outdoors in extreme cold, the result is often frostbite, hypothermia, emergency room visits, ambulance calls and hospital stays, all of which place far greater strain on taxpayer-funded systems than prevention ever does.
A single hospitalization can cost tens of thousands of dollars, while a night at an emergency shelter costs a fraction of that. Prevention is not only more humane; it is far more fiscally responsible.
Local businesses also benefit when the most vulnerable among us are supported rather than pushed into crisis. A healthier, safer community means fewer emergency disruptions for downtown businesses, fewer public safety calls that draw resources away from other needs and a more stable environment for commerce. When community systems work proactively, everyone benefits — from shop owners and employees to customers and visitors who expect safe, welcoming cities.
Some may worry that providing emergency shelter invites problems or encourages dependency. In reality, the opposite is true. Well-run emergency shelters are structured, supervised and time-limited responses to extreme circumstances. They improve public order, reduce unsafe encampments and connect people to existing local services. They are a stabilizing force, not a destabilizing one.
Ultimately, the question before us is what kind of community we want to be. Do we turn
away from people in crisis and absorb the far greater costs later — or do we act with foresight, compassion and integrity?
Supporting an emergency shelter says that we value human life, public safety and economic responsibility all at once. In moments of extreme cold, warmth becomes a public good. By providing it, we affirm that our community is both caring and wise — and that we understand the true cost of doing nothing.