Where Home Is an Elusive Fantasy

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A young man stands in a swimming pool, eyes covered, shoulders hunched, his head slightly bowed. A child bounces from bed to bed. A dainty green cupcake with confetti sprinkles occupies a place of honor on a paper plate.

These moments are captured in family pictures, much like those taken by countless families on summer road trips, the kind they would share with friends back home. But in this case, the children pictured have no home â€" they are living in limbo, reduced to scraping by week to week, or day to day, in a seedy motel in Orlando, Fla.

Nadia Shira Cohen and Paulo Siqueira â€" along with their infant son, Rafa â€" settled into the Remington Inn motel for several weeks last year to produce “Motel America,” a multimedia project that tracked several families who ended up homeless after illness, unemployment, foreclosure and eviction. In a city where Disney’s commercial fantasy attracts thousands of families each year, they are stuck with no idea of what the future holds.

“Just knowing these people are miles away from living in this situation, you get this feeling of extremes,” Mr. Siqueira said. “I didn’t expect it to be so fragile. Some families we talked to, they were rear-ended by a bus and that’s all it took. The supportive services come later. But there is nothing that prevents you from getting into that situation.”

That idea that financial ruin could devastate a family so quickly was the driving force behind the project. Ms. Cohen said she had been reading Barbara Ehrenreich’s “Nickel and Dimed” when she got the idea to pursue the project. The book, she said, recounted how people living on the edge stayed in motels â€" even though over time it would be more expensive â€" because they did not have enough savings to pay for an apartment’s deposit, first and last months’ rent.

Nadia Shira Cohen Abandoned businesses and houses like this one line Route 17 in Orlando, Fla., just miles from Disney World.

Researching the topic, she and Mr. Siqueira zeroed in on central Florida. Less than a decade ago, people had flocked to the state, lured by jobs in a construction boom that was about to burst. On top of that, the state’s overheated housing market went into decline with the mortgage crisis, overburdening already weak social service systems.

“What happened to all those people who came down for the construction boom” Ms. Cohen said. “This is the hangover of that, when you have people left with nothing. Services were scarce before, and now they’re completely overwhelmed with people who lost their homes.”

They located families with the aid of Families in Transition, a nonprofit group that helps the homeless. They soon encountered families who had traveled a familiar path: losing a job, then a home, moving in with family or friends and ultimately ending up in a motel. If they were lucky, they might find a shelter in a few months.

Tyrone Washington and his family landed in the motel after the car he was driving was rear-ended by a school bus, shattering a brain shunt he had had since childhood. He lost his job of 10 years at a supermarket deli. His wife, who was pregnant, could not work.

“They slowly started sliding down,” Ms. Cohen said. “While at the motel, they got a place together in a homeless shelter, which is rare. It’s quite a stark change from the motel.”

Nadia Shira Cohen Soup cans on the shelves of Families in Transition, an organization financed by the Department of Education in Seminole County, Fla., which helps families without a home get back on their feet and keep their children in school.

For Ginerva Cutcher’s family, life at the motel was a respite from a grim routine. Unable to afford more than a day or two, they would camp out in the woods behind the motel. That is how they spent last Thanksgiving, eating sandwiches. Her 4-year-old son thought they were camping.

“She tried to keep that going,” Ms. Cohen said. “It was a big thing for her. Her husband has a severe case of juvenile diabetes. Their car broke down and they couldn’t get to work. Bus lines canceled night service at some stops and it got problematic. Her job was cleaning at night, and she couldn’t get to work. She’s been looking, but with two kids and her husband sick, she’s just sliding.”

Covering the story with their own child in tow helped Ms. Cohen and Mr. Siqueira gain trust among their subjects. It also unsettled them when they saw children not much older than their son having to live their early years in poverty.

Yet there were also moments of tenderness, even humor. Juan and Janet Cruz had to sell their wedding rings. But they exchanged new ones â€" Mickey Mouse rings. The pair had worked at Disney World, he in security and she as a janitor. Juan’s diabetes led to surgery and disability. They now live in the motel with their two sons and a daughter.

“The kids seemed very involved in the situation and loving towards the family,” Ms. Cohen said. “They were tight.”

But they were old enough to know what they faced.

“These kids were forced to grow up pretty quickly, and they were pretty smart about the whole situation,” Mr. Siqueira said. “Jake was in R.O.T.C. He thinks he wants to start a new life. He seemed to be pretty detached. Even though he is loving towards his family, his idea is to get out. He’s 17. He has everything planned about what to do and where to go.”

Paulo Siqueira/Parallelo Zero Jake Cruz buttoned his R.O.T.C. uniform at the Remington motel, where his family stays. Jake, his mother, father, brother and sister were temporarily living in a motel room off Highway 4 in Orlando since they were evicted.

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