I have never been more impressed by my fellow Utahns than I was on Tuesday, when Draper Mayor Troy Walker proposed two potential locations for a homeless resource center in his city.

I have never been more shocked than I was on Wednesday, when close to 1,000 Draper residents — at a rowdy meeting discussing the potential locations — booed a homeless man from the stage when he asked for their help.

The fear is understandable. The Salt Lake City homeless shelter has gotten out of control. It can be dangerous there, and drug use and abuse is rampant. This needs to be fixed.

But this is not a homelessness problem. This is a drug problem. There are many, many homeless men, women and children in Utah who are not drug users. They are not scary, they are scared. They see the drug lords preying on the weakest among them, and then they look outside the homeless community and see mostly scorn and contempt. Where can they turn for peace?

We live in Utah. Let me paint a picture of what a truly Utah homelessness shelter would look like. First, it wouldn’t be ostracized. It wouldn’t be wedged between train tracks or stashed in the shady part of town. It would be, at least to some degree, part of the community. Obviously there would be protections, but they would be to protect the homeless from predatory dealers as much as they would protect the neighborhood from the homeless.

On Tuesday and Wednesday nights, local church youth groups would take turns visiting the residents. They would read to the children. They would sing carols at Christmas time. They would knit blankets for the single mothers. They would mourn with those who are so obviously mourning.

Shelter management would meet with neighborhood leaders at least monthly. They would explain any issues, ask for feedback and report on the latest efforts. They would ask for help, and the community would respond.

Local politicians would make it a point to regularly stop by the shelter. They would get to know the men, women and children (or, if it’s a women’s and children’s resource center like was proposed in Draper, just the women and children). They would learn about how they got there, and that knowledge would help them set city policy. They would all read up on the facts found in the 2014 Comprehensive Report on Homelessness in Utah, particularly the concrete solutions proposed in pages 14-29.

I believe Utahns can be profoundly charitable and open-minded. The community would understand that “there but for the grace of God go I.” These Good Samaritans would look past the scary anecdotes to see the statistics about homelessness in Utah. Misconception breeds fear, but love casts it out.

The vast majority of Utah’s homeless are from Utah. Almost one-half of single adults and about one-third of families stay in homeless shelters in Utah for less than one week. Children make up about one-third of all Utah’s homeless, 38 percent of our homeless neighbors experience mental illness or substance abuse and 35 percent are victims of domestic violence. These people just need a chance.

As Lawrence Horman, the man jeered off the stage by his neighbors in Draper, put it: “We’ll help ourselves if you give us a place to start from.”

Inasmuch as we do it unto these struggling among us, we know who else we're helping. Or shunning.

Jeff Swift, Ph.D., serves on the board of the Alliance for a Better Utah and as policy director for the LDS Dems. He lives in South Jordan with his wife and children.