Room of Recognition

Room of Recognition

Xiangbo Xu

This project addresses the long-standing spatial and social invisibility of Glasgow’s homeless population. While traditional shelters provide a place to sleep, they often fail to meet the deeper needs for dignity, belonging, and social reintegration, leaving psychological, emotional, and cultural needs unmet. It proposes an interior-design-led prototype of modular micro-dwellings embedded within the city’s grey spaces, exploring how such shelters can offer dignity, security, and a sense of belonging without reinforcing marginalisation; how inclusive spatial strategies can accommodate pet companionship while ensuring hygiene, privacy, and mental well-being; and how placing modular facilities in urban voids can positively reshape public perceptions of homelessness.

People experiencing homelessness do not “choose” life on the streets—they are the outcome of systemic deprivation and denied rights. Research identifies several key causes behind homelessness:

1. Structural Unemployment and Economic Vulnerability
   Many individuals are forced into homelessness due to sudden job loss, family breakdown, or overwhelming debt. It is not the result of a deliberate or deviant lifestyle choice.

2. Mental Health and Addiction
   Studies show that over 60% of rough sleepers experience mental health disorders, addiction, or dual diagnoses such as PTSD combined with substance use disorders (Crisis, 2023). These are complex, interwoven challenges—not moral failings.

3. Exclusion from Traditional Shelters: Pets and Privacy
   Many refuse to enter conventional shelters because they cannot bring their companion animals, or because they fear violence, shame, and lack of privacy in overcrowded communal settings.

Behaviours of homeless people such as public disturbance are symptoms of trauma. However, homelessness does not equal criminality—this is a widespread misconception.

Design has the power to act as a visual language against stigma. People without homes are not “visual pollution”; they are individuals who have been denied the right to spatial expression. The designer’s role is not to help the dominant society “clean up” the marginalized, but to create spaces of representation and refuge for those excluded from urban life. Through architecture and design, we can challenge stereotypes and foster a more inclusive society.

According to authoritative research by Shelter Scotland, Crisis UK, and other organizations, what homeless individuals lack is not merely “shelter from the elements,” but a set of deeply human needs:

1. Social relationships and visibility:
   Those who experience long-term homelessness often suffer the breakdown of social ties—family, employment, friendship—and need to rebuild a sense of being seen and respected as social individuals.

2. A sense of belonging and control:
   A complete lack of control over one’s living space is one of the core sources of despair for many homeless people.

3. Stability + flexible exit mechanisms:
   Most homeless individuals do not “choose” to live on the streets—they lack transitional housing that provides the time and space to rebuild their lives.

4. Co-living with pets and dignity:
   Many refuse to enter traditional shelters because they cannot bring their pets. According to data from StreetVet UK, pets often serve as their only emotional support and sense of companionship.

5. Opportunities for reintegration:
   Homeless people long to participate in meaningful work or community activities, allowing them to transform from passive recipients of aid to contributing members of society.

After watching the Netflix documentary Lead Me Home, I gained a deeper understanding of the complex realities faced by people experiencing homelessness and the everyday struggles that often go unnoticed. I was particularly moved by an interview with a mother who, despite having access to free meals, insisted on cooking for her child every day. She explained, “I try not to lose our family in homelessness.” This moment inspired me to ensure that the living module includes a simple kitchen, giving residents the dignity and autonomy of preparing their own meals whenever they wish.

The documentary also shed light on the extreme difficulty of accessing basic hygiene. Many people are forced to seek out public restrooms and bathe quickly, often in secrecy, hoping not to be seen. This insight led me to incorporate a low-cost shower stall with a curtain for wet–dry separation, offering a practical, affordable, and private solution.

Moreover, the film revealed the diversity within the homeless community: some individuals live with pets, some struggle to protect their families, while others prefer solitude. This range of needs reminded me that any design intervention must remain flexible and inclusive, responding to different life situations with respect and empathy.

The design is organised into four functional modules tailored to different homeless user groups.

The design is organised into four functional modules, each developed in response to earlier analysis of the diverse circumstances faced by people experiencing homelessness. These modules can be assembled in different configurations to accommodate individuals with pets, families seeking shared space, or those living alone.

The essential living modules include a sleeping unit, functioning as a bedroom, and a daily living unit that incorporates a shower, toilet, and small kitchen. In addition, the optional companion modules provide flexibility: one module is designed for larger pets and companion animals such as dogs, while the other is tailored for smaller pets, including cats or small dogs. Apart from the daily living module, which occupies approximately six square metres, each of the other three modules covers around four square metres.

Each module applies environmentally sustainable materials strategically aligned with its function—for example, surfaces that are moisture-resistant in the bathroom and kitchen unit, or soft recycled textiles in the sleeping module to enhance comfort and acoustics. The material choices not only support the intended functions of each unit but also create visual layering and textural variation within the overall design. At the same time, the system maintains affordability and supports prefabrication, ensuring that the modules can be produced and assembled with efficiency while preserving dignity and a sense of belonging for users.

Looking back on the entire process of my graduation project, my greatest insight has been a renewed understanding of the boundaries and potential of interior design. At the beginning, I regarded the project simply as providing a functional shelter unit for the homeless. Yet as the work unfolded, I gradually realised that interior design is not only about spatial organisation and material selection, but also about responding to dignity, belonging, and social relationships. It was through this process that I came to see the close connection between interior design and wider social issues—it does not merely shape the atmosphere of a space, but can also act as a medium for recognition and inclusion. This realisation has given me greater confidence and expectation for the future development of the discipline.

Of course, I am also aware of the limitations that remain within the project. As a student design, many details are still explored only conceptually. For example, the flexibility of folding furniture and modular insertions may in practice be constrained by spatial dimensions, user habits, or maintenance requirements. These limits remind me that for creative interior design ideas to become reality, they require further testing and refinement. Yet these imperfections have been valuable lessons: they have taught me that design must not only carry poetry but also address the real complexities of everyday life.