Volunteers with the Aris Foundation hand out food on a Tuesday evening in Tempe to those who are experiencing homelessness or food insecurity. Photo by Jerod MacDonald-Evoy | Arizona Mirror
In Arizona, we are witnessing a dangerous pattern that cycles people between eviction, homelessness, and incarceration. It’s a system we call the Eviction-to-Prison Pipeline — and it’s tightening across the state through city ordinances, ballot propositions, and court decisions that make it a crime to be poor instead of lifting families out of poverty.
This week marks one year since the U.S. Supreme Court issued its decision in Grants Pass v. Johnson, allowing cities to arrest people for sleeping outdoors — even when no shelter is available. In the 12 months since, we’ve seen the full weight of that ruling play out on Arizona’s streets.
Over the past year, cities across Arizona — from Surprise to Mesa, Goodyear, Tempe, Scottsdale and Phoenix — have passed or expanded ordinances that make it illegal to camp, sleep, or even rest in public. Officials claim these laws improve safety, but what they really do is punish people for being unhoused.
GET THE MORNING HEADLINES.
In Surprise, for example, it became illegal last November to wash, sleep, or use public space for basic survival. By December, Mesa had banned camping on all city-owned property. Goodyear and Phoenix created 500-foot “no-camping zones” around schools, parks, and shelters. These aren’t isolated decisions — they’re part of a coordinated shift toward criminalization of the unhoused.
Behind many of these laws is the influence of the Cicero Institute, a Texas-based think tank that has pushed model legislation nationwide to criminalize homelessness under the guise of public order. Their playbook has made its way into Arizona’s policies, reinforcing a strategy of punishment over housing. The same institute has also promoted privatized incarceration models and policies that benefit the private prison industry — raising serious questions about who profits when people are pushed from eviction into incarceration.
At Fuerte Arts Movement, we’ve spoken out because we know where these laws lead. When someone is fined or arrested for sleeping outside, that encounter often turns into a warrant or a jail stay — especially if they already have unresolved citations. Once jailed, it becomes nearly impossible to secure permanent housing again, due to discrimination of renters with criminal records.
People cycle through shelters, streets, and cells. It’s the Eviction-to-Prison Pipeline in action.
In November 2024, Arizona voters approved Proposition 312, giving cities even more authority to enforce these bans. Rather than address homelessness with housing and services, Prop. 312 incentivized more arrests and displacement. And one year ago, the Supreme Court’s ruling in Grants Pass sent a national signal: punishment over prevention. Since then, local governments have moved swiftly to enforce new encampment bans instead of expanding shelter or permanent housing.
Meanwhile, the root causes of homelessness are growing. Over a year ago, in June 2024, the Arizona Attorney General launched a major investigation into whether corporate landlords colluded with the software company RealPage to inflate rents across the state. That same summer, The Arizona Republic published a powerful letter from Corinne Ladha, warning that Arizona’s deadly heat made homelessness a death sentence.
One year later, rent is still rising and summers are even hotter. In a state where people are being evicted into 115-degree weather, these ordinances don’t just criminalize — they endanger.
We can choose a different path. Arizona can invest in housing-first strategies that meet people’s needs without coercion or criminal records. We can deny the profit driven prison industry another population to criminalize. We can pass laws that prevent eviction, support reentry, and hold corporate landlords accountable. We can demand cities fund care, not criminalization.
At Fuerte Arts Movement, we believe housing is a human right. And we believe every person—no matter their zip code, income, or past—deserves to live with dignity. If we want to end the prison pipeline, we must start by ending the eviction crisis—and the policies that punish people for being poor.
YOU MAKE OUR WORK POSSIBLE.
