They Need You at the Table: Why Your Lived Experience Matters More Than You Think

For a long time, I believed that because I had experienced homelessness, addiction, poverty, and countless barriers, my voice didn't belong in the rooms where decisions were being made. I assumed policy was something created by lawyers, politicians, researchers, and people with degrees hanging on their walls. I thought I had nothing to contribute.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

What I've learned over the past few years is that there are organizations across the country actively looking for people with lived experience to help shape public policy. Not because they need a compelling story for a report or a panel discussion, but because they recognize something many institutions are only beginning to understand: lived experience is expertise.

You understand barriers that no textbook can fully explain. You know what it's like to spend hours trying to find shelter only to be turned away. You know what it's like to navigate complicated systems, wait on endless hold, fill out paperwork that seems designed to discourage you, or lose benefits because of rules that make little sense in practice. That knowledge is valuable. It provides insights that data alone cannot.

Organizations like the National Coalition for the Homeless (NCH) and the National Low Income Housing Coalition (NLIHC) recognize this. They regularly include people with lived experience in conferences, advisory groups, advocacy campaigns, and policy discussions. They provide opportunities to learn how policy works, how to effectively tell your story, and how to transform personal experience into meaningful advocacy.

One of the biggest misconceptions I hear is, "I'm not educated enough," or "I don't know anything about policy."

Neither did I.

Policy is a skill that can be learned. Your lived experience cannot.

Anyone can study homelessness in a classroom. Very few people know what it feels like to search for a safe place to sleep, navigate fragmented services, or wonder where their next meal is coming from. That perspective cannot be manufactured, and it deserves a place alongside research, legal expertise, and government experience.

The truth is, we need more people with lived experience at every decision-making table. Too often, policies are written for people instead of with them. As a result, well-intentioned programs sometimes fail because they overlook the realities of daily life. When people who have lived these experiences participate in creating solutions, policies become more practical, more compassionate, and ultimately more effective.

I've seen firsthand how intimidating these spaces can feel. It's easy to believe you don't belong or that your opinion won't matter. But every advocate you admire started somewhere. They asked questions. They learned. They spoke up even when they weren't sure their voice would make a difference.

Yours can.

If you've experienced homelessness, housing insecurity, poverty, or other systemic barriers, don't underestimate what you have to offer. Your experiences are not something to hide. They are a source of knowledge that can improve systems for the next person walking the same path.

None of us can change these systems alone, but together our voices become harder to ignore. Throughout history, meaningful policy change has come from people who organized, educated themselves, and refused to accept that things had to stay the way they were. That same opportunity exists today.

If you've ever thought, "Someone should do something about this," consider that maybe you're part of that "someone."

The table is getting bigger.

Pull up a chair.

Someone else is waiting for your voice to help make room for theirs.