Albuquerque, New Mexico – Despite Mayor Tim Keller’s public pronouncements against harsh measures for the city’s growing homeless population, a recent ProPublica investigation reveals a stark contradiction: under his leadership, the city has significantly increased the criminalization of homelessness. An in-depth analysis of county data shows a dramatic rise in arrests and jail bookings for offenses commonly associated with living on the streets, directly clashing with the mayor’s stated commitment to compassionate solutions and his dismissal of arrest-centric approaches during his reelection campaign last fall.
During a televised debate with former County Sheriff Darren White, Keller, who secured a third term, criticized his challenger’s suggestion for a tougher stance on the homeless. Such an approach, Keller argued, would be cruel, asserting that "this problem is complex and you cannot dumb it down to arresting people. You simply cannot arrest your way out of this problem whether you want to or not." He acknowledged that the city already clears encampments and issues citations "all the time." However, the ProPublica analysis, based on previously unreported county data, indicates that the reality of his administration’s actions diverges sharply from this rhetoric.

Escalating Enforcement and Soaring Charges
The city’s escalating enforcement strategy has led to a dramatic surge in charges for sidewalk obstruction, trespassing, and unlawful camping, resulting in an unprecedented influx of homeless individuals into Bernalillo County’s jail. In 2025 alone, charges for obstructing sidewalks reached 1,256, a nearly six-fold increase compared to the previous eight years combined. Trespassing charges exceeded 3,000 last year, marking the highest annual total since 2017. Unlawful camping cases surged from 113 in 2024 to 704 in 2025, according to data provided by the New Mexico Administrative Office of the Courts. These figures clearly illustrate a city moving towards stricter enforcement, despite its mayor’s public rhetoric.
While a majority of these cases were eventually dismissed after adjudication, the initial citation often carries significant consequences. Each citation mandates a court appearance, and a missed date can quickly lead to a bench warrant and subsequent arrest. This "predictable path," as described by experts, frequently culminates in incarceration.
Bernalillo County Jail Overwhelmed by Homeless Inmates
The impact of this intensified enforcement on the Bernalillo County Metropolitan Detention Center (MDC) has been profound. Over the past four years, the number of bookings classified as homeless or "transient" has skyrocketed from 3,670 in 2022 to nearly 12,000 in 2025. By the end of 2025, individuals identified as transient accounted for approximately 49% of the jail’s population. This alarming trend coincided with the MDC experiencing its highest average daily population in a decade between July 2024 and June 2025. Disturbingly, on some days last year, the jail housed more homeless individuals than Albuquerque’s largest local shelter, underscoring the severity of the situation.

This increase in arrests has occurred in parallel with a significant rise in Albuquerque’s homeless population, which more than doubled from 2022 to 2025. However, the rate of homeless individuals being jailed has more than tripled in the same period, suggesting that enforcement outpaces the population growth. Police and court records, corroborated by interviews with homeless individuals, indicate that this rise in incarceration is primarily a cascading effect of repeated citations for minor offenses.
Official Responses and Justifications
Mayor Keller, in an interview with ProPublica, reiterated his stance that arrests are not a solution to homelessness. Yet, he defended the police department’s actions, stating, "What we’re doing is following the letter of the law. There are much more punitive things that I’m sure a lot of people would want, that we don’t do because they’re inappropriate." A spokesperson for Keller emphasized that Albuquerque’s approach is more measured than other cities, which "rely on immediate arrests, blanket sweeps without service connection or criminal penalties without offering alternatives." The spokesperson claimed the city issues three citations before an arrest is made, though several homeless individuals interviewed by ProPublica reported being jailed without receiving multiple prior citations.
When confronted with the direct link between citations and jail time, Mayor Keller acknowledged that jail "is not the solution," but attributed the enforcement drive to public demand, noting that "people call the city and ask that laws be enforced."

Former Police Chief Harold Medina, who retired at the end of 2025, denied that officers specifically target homeless individuals. He framed the increase in homelessness-related citations and arrests as a byproduct of a broader, city-wide crime-fighting initiative. This initiative gained further momentum in April 2025 when Governor Michelle Lujan Grisham deployed the National Guard to assist Albuquerque police, citing concerns over the "fentanyl epidemic and rising violent juvenile crime." The National Guard’s mandate also included providing humanitarian and medical assistance in areas frequented by the homeless. Medina insisted, "It’s important that we don’t categorize this as, ‘We’re doing an initiative on the unhoused.’ We’re doing an initiative across the board."
However, city statistics appear to contradict this assertion. Data shows that the most significant increase in arrests from 2024 to 2025 was for misdemeanor warrants, precisely the type frequently incurred by homeless individuals missing court dates. Arrests associated with misdemeanor warrants jumped by 72% during this period.
The Human Toll: Stories from the Streets
The human cost of this enforcement strategy is borne by those experiencing homelessness, who describe a relentless cycle of harassment and incarceration. ProPublica’s review of over 100 cases and interviews with two dozen homeless individuals in Albuquerque revealed a consistent pattern: nearly all had been charged with crimes related to their housing status. They reported feeling "singled out" by police, experiencing frequent contact and citations that inevitably lead to warrants and, ultimately, arrest.

Natalie Rankin, a 45-year-old homeless woman, exemplifies this struggle. In 2025, she faced 12 charges for offenses including blocking sidewalks, public camping, and criminal trespassing. Her inability to appear in court for these citations led to a warrant, resulting in a night in jail in August. "I don’t do anything more than get little warrants for not showing up in court," she lamented. By early 2026, Rankin had already accumulated at least seven more charges and spent another day in jail, perpetuating a cycle that offers no escape.
Priscilla Montano, 67, who often shelters under a bridge downtown, described city workers, sometimes accompanied by police, visiting her spot at least five days a week, instructing people to move their belongings. In July 2025, Montano received three citations for unlawful camping and obstructing sidewalks. In September, these charges led to a day of incarceration. She currently faces another arrest warrant from a separate September violation. Montano’s experience highlights a critical vulnerability: each jail stay means the loss of her precious belongings, including her wedding ring and essential survival items. "I’ve lost my wedding ring and property she needs to survive," she shared, emphasizing the profound impact of these sweeps.
Tiffany Leger, who recently transitioned out of homelessness after two years on the streets, observed this pattern firsthand. While listening to a virtual meeting on a sidewalk in northwest Albuquerque, police approached her, detained her for "camping" due to a nearby tent, and issued a citation. Leger recounted how her friends on the streets often receive outdated information on shelters or are only offered a bed in the former county jail, which is now a shelter on the city’s outskirts. She noted that police frequently approach individuals perceived as homeless to check for warrants, often leading to immediate arrest.

Broader Context, Legal, and Financial Implications
Albuquerque’s intensified enforcement mirrors a broader national trend. In recent years, U.S. cities, grappling with record numbers of homeless individuals, have adopted increasingly stringent laws targeting them. Following a 2024 U.S. Supreme Court ruling that affirmed cities’ right to enforce bans against sleeping outside, over 150 municipalities nationwide, including Albuquerque, either enacted new public camping prohibitions or escalated the enforcement of existing ones. This punitive approach has received endorsement from figures like President Donald Trump, who advocated for federal grants to prioritize cities that enforce bans on "urban camping and loitering."
This emphasis on criminalization persists despite compelling evidence that such citations and arrests are not only ineffective but also financially burdensome. Bernalillo County spends approximately $169 per night to jail inmates without significant medical or mental health needs. This cost escalates dramatically for individuals requiring severe medical care ($250 per day) or mental health support (around $450 per day), as confirmed by a county spokesperson. In stark contrast, providing an individual with a night in the city’s year-round emergency shelter costs a mere $44. The economic disparity is clear: jailing is significantly more expensive than housing.
Tony Robinson, a political science professor at the University of Colorado who has extensively studied camping bans, described Bernalillo County’s share of homeless inmates as "unusually high," even amidst a national trend of increased enforcement. His research indicates that jails in similarly sized counties, such as San Francisco and Pasco County, Florida, report lower rates of incarceration for individuals identified as homeless. Robinson points out the systemic flaw: homeless individuals often lack cellphones or stable addresses to receive court notices, making it challenging to appear in court. This leads to warrants, turning "simple citations" into a "predictable path" to jail time and arrest.

City Initiatives, Limitations, and Critiques
Over Mayor Keller’s nine-year tenure, Albuquerque has invested at least $100 million in expanding its Gateway system, which includes shelters for families and adults, a 50-person treatment program, and a medically supervised withdrawal facility. Mayor Keller highlighted these efforts, stating, "We’re one of the few cities who really has been proactive about building a new system. It needs tons of work and tons of help, but we’ve at least built something that has gotten 1,000 people off the street."
However, despite these investments, the city’s homeless population, which stood at a minimum of 2,960 last year, still far exceeds the shelters’ expanded capacity. Concurrently, Mayor Keller has adopted a more aggressive stance against encampments in public spaces, unequivocally stating his opposition to "tent cities." Revelations from 2024 by City Desk ABQ, reporting on text messages between Keller and then-Police Chief Harold Medina, further exposed this hardening approach. In one exchange, Keller asked Medina to develop a plan to address the "growing crisis," to which Medina responded with a plan to "hammer the unhoused." A spokesperson for Keller later clarified that the city aims to "balance enforcing laws against illegal activity… and providing resources."
The city’s enforcement actions have also attracted legal challenges. In 2022, current and former homeless individuals filed a class-action lawsuit against Albuquerque in state district court, alleging the city "criminalizes their status as homeless" through its targeted encampment sweeps. This lawsuit remains pending. A previous ProPublica investigation in 2024 found that city workers routinely discarded the belongings of homeless people during encampment clearances, a practice that violated both a court order and city policy. Recent interviews confirm that these practices continue, with individuals reporting ongoing destruction of their property and more frequent citations from police.

Lisandra Tonkin, who leads a team at the New Mexico Coalition to End Homelessness, expressed concern that the crackdown impedes their outreach efforts. The constant movement of homeless individuals due to sweeps and jail stays makes it "more difficult to stay in touch with the people they’re trying to help." While city officials maintain they offer resources, Tonkin noted that many homeless individuals are reluctant to accept shelter due to past traumas, including assaults or theft, or because shelter rules often require them to separate from pets or companions. "So what is the solution of where to move them? I think a lot of times the choice is shelter or jail," she concluded.
Former Chief Medina acknowledged the grim reality, describing the Metropolitan Detention Center as the state’s largest "mental health facility." He conceded, "I don’t think it’s ideal for these individuals to always end up in jail, 100%, but there’s limited resources and ability to get people to those resources under our current system." This sentiment resonates with those who have received citations or been arrested, many of whom told ProPublica that the city’s offer is often a choice between a bed in a shelter (formerly the county jail) or nothing at all.
Historical Context and Advocacy for Alternatives
Peter Cubra, a long-time observer of Albuquerque’s treatment of its homeless population, offers a deep historical perspective. He was involved in a landmark 1995 lawsuit, Jimmy McClendon v. Albuquerque and Bernalillo County, which challenged the conditions at the Bernalillo County Detention Center and alleged that police were jailing individuals, including the homeless, for nonviolent misdemeanors. A subsequent city settlement directed police to issue citations for nonviolent misdemeanors whenever possible, instead of immediate arrests.

Cubra noted a shift around 2020, observing what he termed "slow-motion arrests." This strategy involves police issuing citations, knowing that homeless individuals are unlikely to receive or keep court notices. Officers would then revisit the same locations, demand identification, run warrant checks, and arrest individuals based on previously issued citations.
Janus Herrera, a local advocate, confirmed that many homeless individuals report missing court dates due to losing crucial paperwork during encampment sweeps. She underscored the immense pressure on these individuals: "People are already strained to a breaking point. You keep adding more and more on top of that." ProPublica’s review of 100 randomly selected criminal trespassing cases from 2025 corroborated this, showing that 67% of individuals missed their court dates, leading to arrest warrants.
Most interviewed individuals who had been jailed reported being held overnight and then released back to the streets with pending cases, perpetuating a cycle of re-arrests if they miss subsequent court dates. Data analysis by the Center for Applied Research and Analysis at the University of New Mexico supports this, showing a 131% increase in people jailed for less than a day from 2024 to 2025.

Cubra advocates for communities to designate "informal but deliberate" outdoor sleeping areas to avoid constant harassment, citing a local church that opened such a space in Albuquerque last year with capacity for 10 tents. However, he expressed dismay that in Albuquerque, arrests have "persisted and accelerated" over the past year, calling it "shameful." He criticized the city’s implicit message: "Our city is knowingly saying, ‘We won’t let you sleep outdoors.’ We know there is no place for you to sleep indoors, and we’re going to keep arresting you and harassing you for something that is unavoidable and intrinsic to just existing."
Methodology Behind the Findings
ProPublica’s investigation relied on court data for three charges frequently associated with homelessness: criminal trespassing, unlawful obstruction of sidewalks, and unlawful camping. Data was carefully processed to include only the most recent outcome for each charge and to exclude transferred cases to prevent double-counting. Efforts were made to filter out charges clearly unrelated to homelessness (e.g., domestic violence, DUI). While court data does not record housing status, Bernalillo County jail records classify individuals as "transient" during booking. Jail data further indicated that the Albuquerque Police Department was responsible for 75% of homeless bookings from 2020 to 2025. The statistical findings were reinforced by direct interviews with 24 individuals experiencing homelessness, whose personal accounts and court records were independently verified.








