By Kenneth Braswell, CEO, Fathers Incorporated
Of all the legislation passed in Georgia in the last couple of years, one act continues to sit at the center of kitchen-table conversations: the Squatters Act. It passed in 2024, quietly for some, loudly for others. We’re revisiting it because housing remains one of the most unpredictable, life-shaping forces in this state. It’s the difference between stability and strain, between a family holding on and a family slipping through the cracks.
When I talk to fathers across Atlanta, I hear the same undercurrent in their stories. They’re not just looking for a place to sleep. They’re trying to build a foundation firm enough to stand on. They’re trying to stay close to their children. They’re trying to honor commitments while fighting battles that don’t always show up on paper. And when a law like the Squatters Act moves through the system, it shifts the ground under those efforts in ways most people never see.
This law gives property owners a faster path to reclaiming property from people living there without permission. In many ways, it brings clarity to a situation that can be confusing and, at times, unfair. For men who own their homes or sign proper leases, then return from work to find someone living in their property, this law offers a process that doesn’t take months or years to resolve.
But the fathers we serve often live in a different reality — one shaped by informal housing, temporary arrangements, and verbal agreements made in moments of trust or necessity. They stay with family during transitions. They move in with a co-parent, hoping to rebuild. They rent rooms in cash from people trying to survive just like they are. They bounce between couches because a new job hasn’t stabilized yet, child support ate into the month’s rent, or a relationship that felt promising last week fell apart overnight.
Those are the fathers who feel the pressure of Georgia’s Squatters Act the most.
Because once that citation is issued, the clock starts ticking. Three business days to prove you belong. Seven days for a hearing that can determine whether you stay or go. And if the documents look wrong — or weren’t properly executed by someone else — you could face consequences that go far beyond eviction.
That is why this conversation isn’t about politics. It’s about fathers who are doing their best to hold on to their children while navigating a housing landscape that has become harder, faster, and less forgiving. It’s about men who can lose access to their kids, not because they don’t care, but because the law moved quicker than their circumstances could.
Housing remains at the top of Georgia’s challenges, especially in Atlanta, where rents rise faster than wages and where fathers with limited income face shrinking options. The Squatters Act didn’t create this reality, but it did create new urgency. A father who loses his home loses more than shelter. He loses the place where he teaches his child how to tie a shoe, finish homework, or dream bigger than the block they live on. He loses the sense of being rooted. He loses access. He loses dignity.
But here’s the part that keeps me going: None of this is inevitable. We can help fathers understand the documentation they need. We can prepare them for questions the police will ask. We can teach them what “lawful occupancy” actually means. We can guide them before the moment of crisis arrives. And we can make sure they don’t face these challenges alone.
Fathers Incorporated was built for moments like this — moments when laws change faster than lives do and people need someone who understands the emotional and practical realities tucked beneath the legal language. Our role is to help fathers stay steady when the system shifts around them. To keep them close to their children. To make sure the bond between parent and child doesn’t get lost in the shuffle of forms, hearings, citations, and deadlines.
The Squatters Act passed in 2024, but the story didn’t end there. Housing remains a priority, a pressure point, and a crossroads for thousands of fathers across the state. As long as families are navigating these challenges, we will keep speaking into the spaces where policy meets real life.
And we will keep standing beside the men who are trying every day to be present for their children, even when the ground beneath them moves.
