They sleep in beaten vehicles and tents in the woods. Doubled up with family or friends in worn apartments and ratty motel rooms. Huddled under bridges and in crowded shelters. The stereotype is a weathered denizen of Capitol Square. In reality, perhaps half are children, most out of sight. Our "Homeless in Madison | A City Challenged" project aims to shine a light on one of the city's most pressing troubles.

The Wisconsin State Journal has been following a diverse group of homeless individuals, some since January. Here is an introduction to some of them.

The state's approach contrasts sharply with Wisconsin's; "There is a high amount of political and civic will," one Minnesota official says.

Decades of inadequate leadership and insufficient direct funding from the state have weakened the fight against rising homelessness in Wisconsin.

Newly empowered by state laws, property manager is not renewing some leases, leaving people with nowhere to go

Despite working more than 50 hours a week, Cheryl Marten cannot find affordable housing.

The city's rental market is extremely tight, and there's a dearth of low-income housing.

Housing providers secured more discretion in screening applicants, and they can boot tenants easier.

Some say the quality of life here is the main draw, regardless of income, not social services.

The $8 million Rethke Terrace project will provide 60 units of permanent housing with voluntary support services for homeless single adults and veterans.

The Madison-Dane County community is no national model, but is taking some significant steps to to end chronic and veteran homelessness.

Though rarely the public face of homelessness, children are, by some counts, the majority of Madison's homeless population.

About 6 percent of homeless students in the Madison School District are living with their families in motels or hotels. Meet one such family.

A multi-agency effort finds dozens of homeless children and their families living one night at a time in a city motel.

School districts use a more expansive definition than the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development.

Homeless young people are recruited in shopping mall food courts, on Facebook, outside emergency shelters or the Dane County job center, bus transfer stations during the school year, and motels.

Youth can be assaulted, abuse substances, develop mental health problems, and engage in "survival sex," trading their bodies for food, clothing, drugs, money or a place to stay. 

Human trafficking rings are cracked through meticulous, time-consuming investigations, and the victims present additional challenges.

Brittany Carter, homeless since age 15, wants a stable place to call home and a new start on life, but she's still struggling to fulfill her dreams.

The volunteer Friends of State Street Family has teams of people who do street outreach, make and serve food, collect donations, and do special projects to help those without homes. 

Most homeless people are not routinely causing problems for police, a study finds, but a core group of chronic offenders burns through resources.

In the course of a day, John Haines experiences both monotony and hardship.

A controversial proposal making its way through city committees would bar people from sleeping or lying on Downtown sidewalks during the day.

Despite immense goodwill and new initiatives, Madison's service network is strained if not overwhelmed, hampered by a lack of leadership, organization and resources.

With no options, Brannon Prisk and Adria Mackesey built an encampment in the woods, enduring frigid and sweltering temperatures.

The Dane County Homeless Services Consortium's new 21-page community plan to prevent and end homelessness sets first-time housing benchmarks. 

Some don't access care until illness or dental needs become acute. Mothers with newborns and those recovering from surgery can be discharged to the streets. The terminally ill may have no place to die with dignity. 

As Madison looks at potentially big changes to its homeless shelter system, its current hodgepodge of ill-suited, outdated drop-in sites has fallen far behind industry recommendations for shelters that promote dignity and contribute to a person's recovery.

At Higher Ground in Minneapolis, the architecture and the policies are intended to convey respect and move people toward self-reliance.

Shelter director: "The first 15 minutes will make or break a shift."

With attention to the problem growing, there are signs of momentum to address the glaring gaps that leave the state's most vulnerable homeless.