Cute, eclectic tiny homes. Chicken coops and a vegetable garden. An outdoor movie amphitheater. A golf cart to shuttle you around. A street sign labeled “Goodness Way.” These are the types of things you’ll see at Community First, a 51-acre village outside of Austin, Texas, for chronically unhoused people—and the largest project of its kind in the US. The mastermind behind it—a nonprofit founder, church volunteer, and former real estate developer named Alan Graham—views the village as a place for people to get back on their feet, earn income, and find support and a community.
More on tiny homes and the unhoused: In a 2022 piece at Failed Architecture, Sasha Plotnikova writes about the tiny shed villages in Los Angeles.
So far, the project has met ambitious fundraising goals and received support from philanthropists, companies, and architectural firms, and Graham hopes to expand to nearly 2,000 homes across multiple locations. But is it the right solution in Austin, where the homelessness crisis is getting worse?
But Community First is pushing the tiny home model to a much larger scale. While most of its homes lack bathrooms and kitchens, its leaders see that as a necessary trade-off to be able to creatively and affordably house the growing number of people living on Austin’s streets. And unlike most other villages, many of which provide temporary emergency shelter in structures that can resemble tool sheds, Community First has been thoughtfully designed with homey spaces where people with some of the highest needs can stay for good. No other tiny home village has attempted to permanently house as many people.
Like Mr. Johnston, many residents have jobs in the village, created to offer residents flexible opportunities to earn some income. Last year, they earned a combined $1.5 million working as gardeners, landscapers, custodians, artists, jewelry makers and more, paid out by Mobile Loaves and Fishes.
Steven Hebbard, who lived and worked at the village since its inception, left in 2019 when he said it shifted from a “tiny-town dynamic” where he knew everyone’s name to something that felt more like a city, straining the supportive culture that helped people succeed.