This Black History Month, Graeme Browne, our Floating Support Service Manager, reflects on the intersectionality of race and homelessness, and what drives his commitment to supporting young people facing housing insecurity.
As a Black man in the UK, I’m constantly inspired by the strength, creativity, and resilience within my community. I’m proud of how we keep pushing forward, even when the odds are against us. But inequality remains a stark reality. Shockingly, Black people are four times more likely to experience homelessness than white people — a statistic that represents real lives, real stories, and real potential that too often goes unsupported.
When we talk about why Black people are overrepresented in homelessness services, there isn’t one simple answer. A mix of education gaps, stereotyping, and systemic bias can put young black people at a disadvantage from an early age.
Add into the mix, language like “gang influence” or other negative labels, young Black people are often labelled as ‘trouble’ before anyone really gets to know them, creating barriers and mistrust. These are historical issues that have existed for generations.
These challenges can also be compounded by family pressures. From cultural expectations that they should ‘do as they’re told’, to homes where mental health isn’t openly discussed. In some families, there’s a belief that problems should be ‘prayed away’ or that ‘nothing’s wrong,’ which can stop young people from asking for help. These pressures can strain relationships, worsen mental health, and in some cases end in homelessness.
When it comes to education, research shows that pupils from Black Caribbean backgrounds face disproportionate rates of school exclusion compared to their white peers. Exclusion doesn’t just disrupt education, it creates family tensions, erodes trust in institutions, and deepens inequality. Ultimately, it’s linked to broader societal issues like income, health and housing insecurity, which increase the risk of homelessness later in life.
I wish I’d known more when I was younger about how the housing system works: council housing, benefits, private renting. There’s very little education around that. I’ve always believed housing education should be taught in schools. Understanding this earlier could help prevent some cases of homelessness altogether, especially among young Black people.
There is also strong evidence that black people are disproportionately discriminated against by landlords and letting agents:
These everyday inequalities can take a serious toll on mental health, creating feelings of worthlessness and hopelessness when systems fail to listen. This loss of trust can push young people further from the help they need.
For me, it’s always been about trying to make a difference. Growing up, I knew what it was like to face uncertainty to not know where you might end up next.
That experience is part of why I do this work. I know how much it matters to have someone believe in you and help you see a way forward. I want to show young Black people that even in the toughest times, it’s possible to hold on to hope and build a future. I can be a role model by showing that progress is possible, helping them to navigate challenges, and celebrating each step they make along the way.
Benjamin Zephaniah, Linton Kwesi Johnson, and Maya Angelou spoke extensively about truth and injustice, but also about hope, that even in hard times better things are possible. Their words remind me to keep fighting, to persevere, and to believe that change can happen, even when progress feels slow. In the face of adversity, they kept creating, kept writing, and kept telling the truth. I try to take that same philosophy into my work helping young people find their own path.
At Depaul UK, we tailor our support to each young person. Central to this approach is understanding the barriers they face, whether that’s financial, housing insecurity, discrimination, or risks in their local area. We work with other teams – social services, care-leaving teams, and risk-prevention staff – to give personalised wrap around support and help remove or unblock those barriers.
I’ve seen firsthand how the right support can change lives. One young Black male I supported came to us struggling with money and confidence. With time and guidance, he joined a Prince’s Trust course, got an apprenticeship with Network Rail, and now works full-time at a major London station. Seeing him now, proud, independent, and thriving, reminds me why I do this work.
For me, Black History Month is as much about recognising and celebrating our future potential, as it is about looking back on our past. That’s why every day I focus on listening, understanding, and providing support that meets young people where they are. Seeing their potential unfold keeps me motivated. When we consistently show up for a young person, demonstrate we believe in them, champion opportunities, we can help them thrive – and change the narrative for young Black people at risk of homelessness, one person at a time.