There Are No Children Here
This semester I am enrolled in a course called Human Rights and International Politics. Each week we go down the line, and tackle different human right violations that occur around the world.
Most of our issues have had particular global concern, with a few caveats. But for a final paper, we read a book titled There Are No Children Here by Alex Kotlowitz, and it highlighted many human right violations that exists within the landscape of public housing.
I wanted a more holistic view of a system that needs to be explored carefully utilizing: a historical/gender/class/poverty/race/economic/political/environmental/public health/public education lens. So I ventured out to Chicago, went back home to Charlotte, and then studied Asheville where I currently live to learn about what is getting done and what is not changing- currently in 2019. The result? A 20 page cross-country report on housing as a fundamental right. Enjoy!
There Could Be Children Here
When I finished reading There Are No Children Here by Alex Kotlowitz, I had a Pat Solatano moment where I immediately threw the book across my room. It is an amazing story, both distressing and incredibly significant, but it made my heart ache. I saw so much of myself in Pharaoh. Just like him, I found a sanctuary in school, have a crazy sweet tooth, and don’t find dogs that entertaining. But we are also very different. I did not grow up in an environment like his in any capacity. And in the ways he felt loved at home with his family and terrified in his neighborhood, I felt the complete opposite. It wasn’t the setting I recognized- it was the neglect. It was the response to trauma and instability, and the feeling of being a kid and being fearful and not really understanding why. And when you grow up it doesn’t stop getting painful- the pain just becomes normal. For the children, and even adults, of Henry Horner I think their pain became normalized and dressed itself in ways that made it more bearable to live with. They seemed to be living only as a means of survival. It seemed as though they had no other choice.
The interesting part is that prior to reading this book, I would have never considered housing to be a topic we’d discuss in a human rights class. Not because I don’t think it’s a human right, but because it obviously is. Everything is supposed to start at home- family traditions, significant life moments, and the feeling of security and ownership. And yet, There Are No Children Here highlighted an important truth: many families and individuals never receive that ownership, feel comfortable, or have the access or privilege to experience those meaningful moments. It seemed like every time Lajoe wanted to do something nice for her children— get cool Christmas presents, upgrade their standard of living, go on a family outing— barrier after barrier kept them from achieving a life of dignity.
After reading this book I would come to the conclusion that the public housing system failed the families of Henry Horner and hence probably continue to fail residents today, that government agencies are fundamentally corrupt, and that Kotlowitz wrote a book that should become required reading because it was so powerful and exposing of violations of basic human decency. I would create a list of every violation I could find and then attach it to a system I could put the blame on as if these issues fit neatly into a box. I would be reminded of the fact that I now live on a campus in Asheville that prides itself in being able to call out gentrification, the negative impacts of tourism and our downtown. I would also be reminded that right now, in my home city of Charlotte, there is a photography exhibition highlighting gentrification and housing vulnerability in one of our historic neighborhoods in Southend. After realizing these things, I would consider these non-isolated events and decide that I should write a paper that diagnoses this issue as an epidemic. I would even decide that I could not fully start writing until I visited Chicago. How can I write about issues affecting a place I had never been too? How could I create assumptions about the public housing system having never had lived that experience?
So, I went to Chicago. And all the assumptions or ideas I had after reading this book, I realized were wrong in so many ways. The public housing system is one entity in a world of complex nuts and bolts that is affected by so many other systems outside of itself. It is hard to place blame on history, but history shows that Lajoe and her family might have been doomed from the start. There Are No Children Here should not be required reading. Because, while it may be important that we learn about exploitation and neglect and violence in communities, this book, after all, is just a story- it is dangerous in how it may continue the false perpetuation of using “band-aids to cover bullet wounds” and condensing real lives to characters on a page. Kotlowitz story covers one side of the CHA and our housing epidemic. Going to Chicago and even studying Asheville and Charlotte more, I realized the other side of that story: one that I hope to present in this paper.
Whatever I thought it was I was going to accomplish, once I started deeply researching all three cities, I quickly realized that I was trying to tell a story that wasn’t mine to tell in the first place. These issues are real and complex and understanding them fully would take years, as I learned after visiting the Chicago Housing Authority, where I met people like Maya Hodari (Director of Development) who has been working there for 23 years or Thomas Worthy (Development Manager) for 19. The knowledge that was shared with me and in return, being shared with you, is one part of a picture that is much bigger than all of us. Here, you will not find answers or solutions or even a cohesive conclusion. In fact, I would be surprised if you could find someone who could. Because the picture is still being painted. Without the help of the incredible people at CHA (which include Jennifer Hoyle, Crystal Palmer, Jose Gonzalez, Jessica Mallon, Yvonne Gutierrez, Thomas Worthy, and Maya Hodari), The Public Housing Museum, Dr. Lisa Yun Lee, JR Fleming, and Council Member LaWana Mayfield-I wouldn’t have this to share with you. This is the compilation of me processing their truth, their work, and the impact their voices have left on me- not only to write this piece but to do so in a way that is respectful and at the very least inspiring. To them, I say thank you.
“If we can break the system in Chicago, it can be broken any place in the country.” - MLKJ
Chicago, Illinois, and There Are No Children Here (TANCH)
There are many sincere and valid criticisms of this book, that are well known by everyone I met in Chicago. But it would also be unfair to leave out what this book is good at. This story highlights a generalization that many people can get behind: government-funded programs to help those in need are dramatically underfunded, and far too often than not, it takes neglect turning into a disaster to bring about changes. This underfunding makes any program collapse before it succeeds. But this book alone can be costly. Public housing isn’t a system that is utilized by black families alone. This is one story of Chicago, written by a white man with the end goal of selling a book. Going to Chicago highlighted the significance of finding other stories. Personal stories. The stories that haven’t been turned into a movie starring Oprah Winfrey.
In 1949, Congress, in addressing a postwar housing crisis, had authorized loans and subsidies to construct 810,00 units of low-rent housing units nationwide. At the time, it was viewed as an impressive effort to provide shelter for the less fortunate. High rises were quickly built in almost every American city. It is interesting that Kotlowitz chooses to point out the violence and living conditions of these communities, and not highlight the obvious concern from the beginning. High rises should have never been built for families. It is an almost immediate scythe through possible opportunity access and building community and relationships with surrounding families. Still, violence and neglect should not be overlooked. But whose fault that the presence of drugs and gangs exist in a community may not be as clear as one may think.
The story of Jimmie Lee in TANCH is significant. The CPD thought that if they arrested the leaders of these big organized gangs, then violence would go down dramatically. But they were wrong. After Jimmie Lee was sentenced, the violence increased ten-fold. Gangs in these communities were more powerful than any state force or police department. These “street fraternities”, helped keep hard drugs out, kept violence away from the youth and women, kept streets clean, and helped neighborhoods financially. You should be thinking of Juan from the 2016 film Moonlight. Or maybe even Alonzo Harris in Training Day. But both media and society have taught us to vilify black bodies at all costs. You fear a black body with a gun and find a hero in the white one. Films and stories about black gangs are almost always criminalized, while white gangs are celebrated (The Godfather is a celebrated mob drama). There are consequences to actions such as these: killing Jimmie Lee and others like him, made gang affiliations pop up on every street, and made violence pertinent in everyone’s life. Children catch bullets meant for someone across the street and illegal activity spreads across the kitchen table of a mother’s home while she sleeps. Street gangs used to be compared to Fortune 500 companies for their organizational skills and ability to generate mass wealth. Henry Horner is an example of the aftermath: gangs are leaderless and bound together by personal relationships and quarrels instead of geography. You might argue that police departments and the FBI can't take all the blame. But in a way, they did help rewrite the story of violence.
It should be noted that violence and drug use in any community makes it unsafe and optimistically should be uncalled for in any circumstance. But it’s also important to understand their role in a community. No one wakes up in the morning and decides to sell drugs for fun. It is an act of desperation and the realization that there are no foreseeable opportunities in place. But it should be noted that these issues are not unique to public housing communities or communities of color. In fact, as I learned from my meeting with the CHA, crimes committed on CHA property happen from visitors or friends of residents, but rarely the residents themselves. Maybe it’s even the child of a mother whose name is on the property. Whatever the case may be, the presence of violence and drugs is multifaceted in nature, and like anything else- identifying the problem without recognizing the systems that might have created them, is dangerous.
The other side of the story is how a community moves forward post-violence. Kotlowitz makes a point to emphasize the disparities between gun violence in Henry Horner versus the community of Winnetka (Kotlowitz 105). The rich, white community got the visit from high-ranking officials, extensive news coverage, the demand for tighter gun control laws, increased security, and tighter examination for mental illness. The black, poor community had no mourning or resources present to deal with trauma. What message does that send to a neighborhood? How is one community deserving of healing and reconciliation and another left to deal with events as if they were normal? But isn’t that the exact message being sent? Shootings happen in Henry Horner all the time. It must be normal. The residents must have gotten used to it. It will happen again so why bother wasting resources? The spirits are already low, so should we mobilize and fight? Who will listen? If you think of the stories of violence today, nothing has changed. When the violence of any kind is not called out, its normalization can cause real consequences. I think of Lafayette on pg 217. Calmly watching television, unphased by the bullets thundering around his home, as his mother and other siblings crouch in a corner. He got used to it. That’s a human right violation all on its own.
How can communities come together in times of neglect to take back their own narratives? While it can be true that living in poverty or violence can act as a further incentive for disengaging from your neighbors or family members, it is also true that it can empower communities to come together for social innovation and change. For example, the Chicago Housing Authority Tenant Patrol was created in 1989 as a response to the absence of sufficient public safety measures. It was a form of community policing that included wellness checks during extreme weather conditions and careful observance of illegal activity. Where were these stories in TANCH? There are the stories of giving up and losing hope, but the stories of fighting the system are slim to none in this book-even though these stories are empowering.
Chicago and the CHA
It is pretty obvious that the CHA has a great responsibility. It is the second-largest housing authority in the country and the largest owner of rental housing in Chicago, with 98% of its funding coming from the U.S Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD). The basic skeleton of the CHA manages two housing subsidy programs: public housing (traditional family, scattered-site, mixed-income, and senior homes) and voucher programs (tenant-based vouchers and project-based vouchers). The CHA of 2019 looks drastically different than the one Lajoe and her neighbors had to deal with. That 227-page audit by HUD observed neglect and human rights violations in every sense. There is nothing we can do to go back and fix the damage that plagued the residents of Henry Horner, and are probably still affecting the well-being of current residents. But I visited Chicago because I didn’t want my lasting impression of a place I had never been to, to be that the city was failing its communities. I wanted to know if and how things have changed, and how reparations and healing have begun.
When I reached out to the CHA by email if I could learn more about their work and their opinions of the book, I was expecting to be redirected to a website link, but I instead, was able to come out to the office and meet with 6 different employees who have worked with this municipal corporation everywhere from 10+ or 20+ years. Some employees grew up in the “city of brick and rod iron fences.” Like Crystal Palmer, a former resident of the Henry Horner developments and who grew up knowing the Rivers family very well. In fact, she was the one who opened my eyes to the harmful inaccuracies that TANCH promotes.
One of the changes the CHA has been proactive in and that are clearly evident throughout the city is the Plan of Transformation (PoT). It is described as, “the city’s historic plan to rehabilitate or replace the entire stock of public housing in Chicago.” It is indisputable that much of “the entire stock of public housing” had to go. These demolitions would displace thousands, and yet keeping them standing would cause more harm. Of the 38,000 units owned by the CHA, less than 25,000 were habitable, and HUD condemned 14,000 outright. Formally beginning on February 6, 2000, the agreement (known as the Moving to Work Agreement) was as follows: $1.5 billion in capital funding for the restoration or replacement of 25,000 units for public housing eligible residents, a housing choice voucher for every unit demolished and not funded by HUD for replacement, and greater flexibility in the use of capital funds and greater regulatory flexibility. The CHA in return, would demolish 14,000 CHA public housing units, provide all new housing in mixed-income communities, and help relocate and provide services to the existing lease compliant households. It should be noted that as of Q4 2018, the CHA has reached 97% of its 25,000 goals, with 24,216 units. They are hoping to complete their goal by the end of 2019, and there is no reason why they shouldn’t- more than 1,000 units are in progress and are scheduled for delivery this year.
An interesting part of the PoT not mentioned in any formal reporting I was given, is the renaming process. Henry Horner is now West Haven Park, and Cabrini Green is the Near North Redevelopment Area that includes sites such as North Town Village and Parkside of Old Town). Jennifer Hoyle, the Planning Analyst for the CHA, says the renaming is a part of the fresh start these homes help to provide. It also helps that the new architecture is consistent with the surrounding built environments. Architecture is crucial in the discussion of public housing. Hoyle brought up a really good point in our discussion about the NIMBY (not in my backyard) attitude many communities can hold, in regards to development, especially in wealthier areas. The ideology is that no one wants poor or low-income families moving into their neighborhood, whether it’s because of the harmful stigmas we have created around poverty or the fear that these units will bring down property values. For example, Hoyle mentioned a public housing development the CHA was trying to build for veterans in a wealthier area of Chicago and the community pushed back hard until the CHA dropped the project in that neighborhood. It begs the question: could housing and opportunity access be a dilemma in our country because we as a collective have ostracized the very programs that help provide progress?
What cannot be left out of the conversation, is what inspired the PoT to happen in the first place. Incredible changes in the CHA are in part a result of the landmark case of Gautreaux v. the CHA, which sought to end systemic racial discrimination in Chicago’s public housing and public housing policy nationwide. Going forward there would be a commitment for equitable access to decent and safe housing, recreation, employment, amenities, and more. The case would make the CHA obligated to develop housing for families in non-mixed income communities in opportunity areas until at least 50 percent of all such units are in opportunity areas, strengthen its voucher mobility program to better enable families to live in opportunity areas, if they choose to do so, and create early learning childhood development programs at four public housing complexes, replicating a program currently in place at the Altgeld Gardens development. These obligations would be made possible through the deep and transparent connections of residents, CHA staff, and all the moving pieces in between. These local connections and strong relationships with communities prove to be more effective and inclusive than other HUD-subsidized housing groups in Chicago, where offices may reside in Washington D.C.
In 2019, I believe Gautreaux would be proud of the major promises kept and promises that are being built upon since the case was first filed in 1966. And although the CHA has until July 31st, 2024 to “offset the impacts of racial segregation caused by its historic building and tenant assignment practices”- they have accomplished so much in the last 50 years that can not be overlooked. Like replacing its large, 100 percent public housing projects such as Cabrini-Green, Stateway Gardens, and Robert Taylor Homes with new mixed-income communities, developing a substantial number of new or rehabilitated public housing apartments across the city, and creating a voucher program that currently provides subsidized housing opportunities in the private market in all 77 of Chicago’s community areas and which now serves more Chicago families than public housing. I strongly believe that had Lajoe and her family and other residents of Henry Horner grown up in the public housing or mixed-income unit in the Chicago of today, they would have lived incredibly different lives.
It is possible that today, Lajoe would have had a stable job with consistent income, and Pharoah a safe space for him to get lost in books instead of abandoned spaces. CHA has shown understanding of the idea that housing isn’t a singular entity that affects one aspect of a person’s life but instead is interconnected with the well being of a person’s livelihood. The partnerships they have within the Chicago community help drive that home. They have developed co-located housing and libraries such as in Irving Park, West Ridge, and Little Italy communities. Or Concord at Sheridan in Rogers Park that combines a ground floor Target store. Imagine walking downstairs to get your groceries or household items, or if you are a college student or single mother, walking downstairs to go to work and not having to worry about transportation costs. These co-located projects illustrate how to attract investment in a way that incorporates the livelihood of residents.
On a broader scale, the concept of investment is key. Everyone I talked to considers the work done at CHA as an investment. Not a cost. From self-sufficiency programs that help families attain economic independence and mobility to scholarships for youth and employment rates increasing among all residents, the work the CHA does now proves that they are fostering community— not just providing housing. Postwar, our country built housing out of last resort to cater to a growing population. Today, while housing might still be a crisis, the CHA has continued to promote the idea that opportunity is just as important, and is just as much as a right that everyone should have access to. So is the idea of inclusiveness. The CHA believes that residents should be a part of the development process from the very beginning. Feedback from amenities to the design of the development is all things the CHA values. Perhaps, if the residents of Henry Horner were able to engage with the CHA and their caseworkers in a transparent way, we would be having a different conversation. But a common theme among all debates on how to resolve issues regarding the poor, always end up ignoring the voices of the very people we are trying to serve. The CHA has tried to mitigate this issue— three seats of their 10 member Board of Directors must be filled by residents of CHA developments.
As I mentioned, a huge part of the PoT is relocating and finding new housing for prior residents. It is fascinating to hear that many families chose to move back to their rehabilitated or completely new housing units in the same area. Nearly 75% are living at their original site. Perhaps, while families were trying to leave isolation, poverty, and violence they weren’t trying to leave the community they have built for themselves- the only home they knew. In fact, after the demolition of Henry Horner, Crystal Palmer, whom I introduced earlier, would find herself back there, later buying a home in the area. She describes it as “giving back to a community that gave me so much”. This is a good segue into the bigger assumptions we might have about the process behind those who live in poverty or, especially in assisted housing. As I learned from many of the employees at CHA, the resident makeup of public housing is shifting. Almost every kind of person may be in need in of an assisted program, from a college student to an elder. While I was in Chicago I heard this often and from almost everyone, I talked to— most Americans no matter the job, are one paycheck away from needing government assistance.
If we are going to talk about public housing, we should also look at how hard it might be to find or sustain the housing you have. I was able to talk with Jessica Mallon, who oversees Fair Housing at the CHA, to discuss what precautions take place. Tenants and residents can be unaware of legal protections, which may differ by state, but include: it being illegal to evict someone experiencing domestic violence, being able to withhold rent payments until certain repairs are made, or even calling a building inspector without fear of eviction. The CHA utilizes fair house testing, phone testing, teach-ins on rights and protections, case management, and legal assistance referrals. Others might view this as an added cost, but statistically and morally, it is simply another investment that lets residents know that their safety and their security are a priority. For example, through a South Bronx study from 2005 to 2008, it was expected that providing legal assistance saved the city more than $700,000 in estimated shelter costs alone. But there is a larger issue of discrimination that exists within these systems, which naturally begs the question, ‘how can we promote equal treatment in an unequal society?’
So far, I have discussed the changes in the Chicago public housing system in detail. But in meeting Maya Hodari, Director of Development, I learned what should be an obvious truth- providing subsidized housing and different housing vouchers—while it may assist in vulnerable populations, it does not eliminate the issue of poverty or even the homelessness crisis altogether There are many interconnected parts to these issues from wealth gaps to education. These inextricably linked systems have a bit more historical rooting.
I visited the only cultural institution in our country that is devoted to telling the story of public housing in the United States. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that of all places, The National Museum of Public Housing is located in Chicago. When I visited, there was an exhibit on redlining being displayed, that is pertinent to the story of housing: How structural racism and inequality were designed into cities and how it has never been undone. It is a complex history that intertwines the Great Migration, Jim Crow, municipal ordinances, black codes, the labor movement, Reconstruction, and so much more. It was a term coined in the late 1960s by sociologist and community activist John McKnight. It is the practice of denying loans or services to an area based on some part of its racial and ethnic composition. While its roots in legal settings can be traced back to the New Deal, its repercussions are being seen in many communities of color all over the country today. During the visit I also got to sit in on a University of Chicago graduate class, being led by director Dr. Lisa Yun Lee, with a special talk by Willie “JR” Fleming. I mentioned that after reading TANCH, I felt like it should be required reading. But Fleming’s story might be more significant to share.
If There Are No Children Here is a book ridden with human rights violations, then Fleming is the human rights defender righting the wrongs, that government and city agencies have ignored for too long. And he used international law to do so. Article 25 of the United Nations Universal Declaration of Human Rights to be exact. Fleming is a part of the Chicago Anti Eviction Campaign founded in 2009 to take over vacant homes and move people in them. Or as Ben Austen reported him saying, “moving home-less people into people-less homes.” In 2009 he served as the Chicago City Chair for the UN Human Right to Adequate Housing official mission to the U.S. His reasoning in doing so is simple: “People should stop living under the guise of constitutional and civil rights. There is something more powerful- international law.” It was how he was able to bring the United Nations here in 2009, citing the displacement of thousands of people as a violation of our fundamental, inalienable rights.
Fleming was quick to highlight the facts. Within his work of “taking over” homes, many people might argue that what they do is against the law. But he replies as such, “if you don’t break the law, you don’t create change. Where would black people be if we did not shake things up?” Whether their work is completely legal isn’t necessarily significant. It is much more cost-effective to renovate a vacant home than to tear it down. It also helps that CAEC has negotiations with banks who technically own these properties, and heavily rely on volunteered labor and community partnerships. Their work on taking over homes is what might make the front page, but they do so much more— they research detrimental and supportive legislation and policies, participate in city, county, and state legislative housing meetings, coordinate and recruit trade contractors, prepare and submit shadow reports that reflect AEC human right to housing mission, facilitate training’s and presentation on human rights, and work on community development, land trusts, and property research.
The overall extent of their work is intensive, but it has to be. “We do not have a housing crisis, we have a moral crisis,” Fleming says. On a national level, there are 6 empty houses for every 1 homeless person. In Chicago, that number is higher. The U.S has the ability to house every homeless person in this country. If poverty persists in America, it is not due to a lack of resources. It is due to apathy, the inability to scale up successful programs, opposing interests, lack of accountability, of leaving the poor out of inequality conversations or policymaking, etc. There is no justification for the denial of a basic right as fundamental as housing. It is not an American value we should support, but it is increasingly becoming one we have accepted. If housing has become a crisis in America, it is because we have allowed it to. We have stigmatized and shamed those who can not afford necessities, public housing more so than anything else. Children go to public schools and universities and that seems to be okay. Access to Medicare and government-provided health insurance has become incredibly popular in political debates. Yet public housing, in most places, can be pointed out a mile away. These apartments are made to look bad.
In Economics, you learn about the natural cycle of the law of supply and demand. Yet as it pertains to the housing market, somehow these principles don’t apply. Usually, in a commodity-based market, when a product increases in price, a person can choose a substitute that fits within their budget, housing might be subsidized, rent control might go into effect, and suppliers would eventually have to start offering more options. Housing just doesn’t work the same way— at least not equitably across the country. There is no substitute for security. Many Americans can’t choose smaller or cheaper housing if it's not available to them. Fleming closed his lecture with an emphasis on a significant point: “if we can not be united by class or race, we should at least be able to come together when it comes to land.” This begs the question- Why are we taking for granted the right to own property?
“kitchenette building” by Gwendolyn Brooks
We are things of dry hours and the involuntary plan,
Grayed in, and gray. “Dream” makes a giddy sound, not strong
Like “rent,” “feeding a wife,” “satisfying a man.”
But could a dream send up through onion fumes
It's white and violet, fight with fried potatoes
And yesterday’s garbage ripening in the hall,
Flutter, or sing an aria down these rooms
Even if we were willing to let it in,
Had time to warm it, keep it very clean,
Anticipate a message, let it begin?
We wonder. But not well! not for a minute!
Since Number Five is out of the bathroom now,
We think of lukewarm water, hope to get in it.
Charlotte, North Carolina
Charlotte is home. I spent my childhood there, growing up going to our six museums, five of them all conveniently located downtown, eating at the best established Japanese restaurant near East Boulevard, or staying up past 2 am to work on my art projects the day before they were due at our 24-hour french bakery in NoDa. Anything outside of where I lived was my refuge. I stayed in group homes, youth shelters, friends’ couches. For me, I have never thought about the home in the context of place. For the past 19 years, I have always had to find homes in people. But as I get older, and the inevitable looming adult task of finding an actual place to live after I graduate gets closer, I find myself having a growing fear of the process of sustaining a home- something I know nothing about.
This past winter break I visited the Harvey B. Gantt Center for African American Arts and Culture, where for the first time, I learned that gentrification and housing inequality was a problem persistent in my city. An exhibition on one of the oldest Black neighborhoods in Southend in particular. “One company owns the property that makes up this 36-acre community just south of Uptown Charlotte, another firm owns the wooden, single-story buildings that were developed in 1951. Developers, anxiously eyeing this plot of land across a busy street, must wait, leaving families hanging in the balance.” As I learned from District 3 Representative, LaWana Mayfield, because this neighborhood is privately owned, the government can not pour in money to develop this area. Mayfield’s hands are tied, especially in trying to find alternative and quality housing, due to rents being unrealistically high for current residents. It's almost as if the residents in Brookhill are living in limbo. They can not move, but at some point, they might not be able to stay. “Charlotte is not unaffordable. The question is who is it affordable for? Charlotte is not affordable for working-class and low-income residents,” Mayfield says.
Similar to Chicago, Charlotte also faces the dilemma of communities with money fighting to keep out affordable housing in their area. On Weddington Road in the Southeast area, the Charlotte Mecklenburg Housing Partnership planned to build 70 units of affordable housing, with 2 and 3 bedrooms, for families making 60 percent of the area median income of $94,000. They would rent for $804 and $923. After all, only 10 miles away sits another successful housing project nestled behind a Whole Foods and high-end shops for those over 50. But homes in the area sell for 3 to $400,000, so when the rezoning for the project happened five years ago, hundreds of neighbors gathered at a local tennis court in opposition. They argued it would create traffic, noise, and privacy issues. They created a Facebook page. Two neighborhoods nearby - Willowmere and Nottingham Estates - hired an attorney to fight the project in court. Harmful ideologies and stigmas towards people who need assistance, help keep this cycle of vulnerability and disenfranchisement going and make creating changes harder. But pretty soon, policymakers might need to stop listening to wealthy people and their unsolicited, non-evidence-based advice and start listening to the facts- 34,000 affordable housing units are needed in Charlotte per recent HUD estimates and 1 in 3 households in the city now pay more than 30% of income on housing costs alone. Crisis Assistance Ministry, located just north of uptown, sees 200 people a day, about 75 percent of whom are seeking help paying rent or utilities. The average client at Crisis Assistance spends 55 percent of their income on housing, putting them in the "severely rent-burdened" category and leaving almost no wiggle room in their budgets.
Over the last 16 years, the city of Charlotte has spent or committed at least $124 million to build affordable housing. Last November city leaders asked voters for $50 million more. It has not been clear as to where that money has been going. The Charlotte City Council has countered rising housing costs by using the Housing Trust Fund to help developers finance the construction of homes for people with lower incomes. Voters provide the money by approving bonds every two years. The City Council then offers grants and low-interest loans to developers who agree to include affordable housing in their projects. Charlotte leaders asked voters to approve $50 million in bonds on November’s ballot, instead of the $15 million they have asked for in the past. No one disputes the Housing Trust Fund can be a crucial program for keeping Charlotte affordable for people with modest and low incomes. But over the last decade, Charlotte’s affordable housing shortage has grown more severe despite the city’s spending.
The rising costs are a compilation of many factors, that may sound recognizable among many cities: rising population growth (last year Charlotte was ranked as the fourth largest growing city in the country), rising land costs, and heavy push back and resistance from residents who oppose affordable housing in their neighborhood. But in my opinion, there are three distinct factors that are mainly left out of the conversation in Charlotte. First, the next generation of economic participants doesn’t have a chance of fostering wealth, let alone affording basic human needs. The problem is highlighted through a scary statistic: a Harvard and UC-Berkeley study found poor children in Charlotte are less likely to escape poverty than their peers in America’s 50 largest cities. The city that I grew up in, is a city that provides no ladder for children to reach success. They are doomed from the start. Mecklenburg County, specifically, home to 170 public schools, “ranks 70th out of 2,478 counties, better than only about 3 percent of counties.”
The second factor I would consider is the city’s open dependency on shelters over sustainable housing. In 2004, for example, the city gave $192,000 from the Trust Fund to a renovation project at the Salvation Army’s Center of Hope homeless shelter for women. City officials then counted that as 114 units of affordable housing even though the shelter provides clients with only a temporary place to sleep. Ten years later, the city provided the shelter another $500,000 for expansion. Officials calculated that as 64 units of affordable housing. Long story short, records show, city officials counted about 670 shelter beds and other transitional shelters as affordable housing units since they started using money from the Trust Fund 16 years ago. There is just one caveat with this concept. Shelters are not permanent housing and do nothing to support families long term. That should not be the best use for public dollars. This is an ongoing dependency- just last year, Jeff Bezos gave $5 million to the Salvation Army. While it is true that providing access to shelters can be helpful in this wider discussion, we should not be investing it in a way that does not prioritize legitimate long-term housing opportunities. There also needs to be the consideration that this funding usually goes to administrative costs and not actual programming/resources.
The last factor I believe plays a huge role in the city’s current crisis is eviction and exploitation. Charlotte ranked 21st out of 100 U.S. cities, ahead of other Sunbelt cities such as Nashville, Raleigh/Durham, Atlanta, Kansas City, and Tampa Bay. According to data available through the North Carolina Court System, which reports on Civil Case Processing System, there were 28,471 ejectments filed in FY15/16- on average 103 a day. These ejectments are garnered towards one clear demographic. On a national level, if incarceration is the plague that hangs over Black men, then eviction may be the plague that disproportionately hangs over Black women, especially those single with children. This discrimination may exist for a variety of reasons, whether it’s gender power abuse, blatant racism, or leverage— a man might be able to work off his late payment through landscaping or indoor labor, but a woman might have other costs, including taking care of children or reaching welfare requirements. On the local level of Charlotte, this issue persists strongly.
Poverty, income disparity, mobility, and economic hardship are complex, potent issues in this city, as in many. Its causes are just as varied and complex. I can not conjure up solutions and answers as to what Charlotte must do next because policies and reforms to minimize this issue vary on effectiveness and lack a consensus. No matter the direction that is chosen to create change, there are a few things that can’t be left out of the conversation. To begin, there needs to be an acknowledgment that this is an issue, to begin with. The issue of poverty and vulnerable populations cannot be ignored, overlooked, or silenced. Next, there needs to be an emphasis on how pocketed and concentrated the marginalized have become in Charlotte. The irony of our city is that it houses some of the wealthiest in North Carolina, but also it’s most deprived. No matter how fast our financial and economic growth is, we can not move forward without addressing the wealth gap and the inability many residents have to mobilize
“Every condition exists simply because someone profits by its existence. This economic exploitation is crystallized in the slum”. If we are going to talk about evictions, whether they are occurring in Chicago or Charlotte, we must talk about exploitation allowing these harmful systems to exist. Poverty is understood as an input and output system. Food stamps are worthless if the cost of groceries at your nearest inner-city grocery store cost more. If you can make money off the poor, why assist them? Payday loans are a clear example of this. 10-12 million Americans will use a payday loan in a given year— not to buy luxury items or even unexpected expenses but instead to pay rent, utilities, and buy food. Fundamental expenses that cover the basic act of living. But these loans were designed to make a person’s income smaller. This can be applied to housing as well.
“Exploitation within the housing market relies on government support. It is the government that legitimizes and defends landlords’ right to charge as much as they want; that subsidizes the construction of high-end apartments, bidding up rents and leaving the poor with even fewer options; pays landlords when a family cannot, through one time or ongoing housing assistance; that forcibly removes a family at landlords’ request by dispatching armed law enforcement officers; and that records and publicizes evictions, as a service to landlords and debt collection agencies.”
In other words, the government is responsible for keeping the Fred Ross's of the world employed. But even harder to accept is the hard truth that understanding this exploitation and emphasizing its importance, does not mean vilifying landlords, public housing markets, or government-funded agencies. It means understanding the realities and ironies that come when policymakers try and help the poor. Or the inefficiencies that can easily arise when policies don’t reflect the roots of issues and are further marginalizing the vulnerable. This knowledge also emphasizes another important truth, that might be harder to sit with than the first: our contempt. How easily we have become complicit and accepting of extreme inequality. What does it say about our culture, that there is a freedom to profit from rents that exist alongside the freedom to live in safe, affordable housing?
“There's really no such thing as the 'voiceless'. There are only the deliberately silenced, or the preferably unheard.”- Arundhati Roy
Asheville, North Carolina
I decided to come to UNC Asheville because I thought I needed a change of pace. Instead of a skyline of skyscrapers, I thought a skyline of mountains painted against a gradient of sunset colors would be more exciting. A city of a thousand shades of green and blue that both residents and transplants call home. Many tourists enjoy this city as well. Thousands of people travel to Asheville during all seasons, whether to enjoy our unnecessary amount of breweries, the Blue Ridge Parkway, or of course the Biltmore. This historic building has turned Asheville into a ‘tale of two cities’ of sorts: more than a million people pay to see this site with over 250 empty rooms, each year. While outside its manicured bamboo forest exterior, more than 550 people were tallied as homeless, with the youth demographic making up a large percentage just in 2018. I would assume that the number is higher. Not because I want to it to be, but because tallying up people you see on the streets isn’t a solid measure. A person staying on their sibling’s couch in between jobs is homeless, even though you can’t see them. A college student living in their car is homeless, even though you can’t see them. A family staying in a shelter is homeless, even if you can’t see them. How could we ever appropriately measure something that is so easily hidden, sometimes purposefully by the people experiencing it?
It is no secret that Asheville lacks affordable housing. The reasons for this vary depending on who you ask, but because I live on campus I chose to listen to what my peers had to say. Many contributed the price spikes in people buying expensive homes or summer houses after they retire, or to the most popular buzzword- gentrification in downtown. When I met Maya Hodari at the CHA, she cautioned me in using this term because to quote, she feels as though that term can be used as a “band-aid to cover a bullet wound”, and prompted me to understand the full dynamics of what a municipality is experiencing. This is not to say that gentrification is not happening in Asheville, but it should be emphasized that the conversation is a lot more nuanced than we have allowed it to be. And the very campus that calls out gentrification, can also be unconsciously complicit in its process.
This campus is constantly clearing out spaces for parking and new development. We live in a food paradise where three grocery stores sit right beside each other, not even a five-minute drive away. We are maybe a ten-minute drive from downtown. These businesses and hotels that are constantly being built, aren’t only targeting tourists, but are also targeting UNCA students and their families. When a family moves their child in for college or visits for the weekend they are staying in a hotel and eating in a restaurant located downtown. Many students are employed and intern downtown. Even though there are countless studies that show that gentrification leads to displacement and disruptions to communities that no one would disagree with, it is also important to look at the other side of the conversation- there are also some studies that show that gentrification decreases the risk of displacement, boost economic activity and can be an inevitable process once combined re-urbanization investments are added into a city.
I am not denying the harsh realities of what gentrification can cause. Asheville is an incredibly diverse city and has many communities of color living within our city limits. But you wouldn't see that at first glance, because these communities have been pushed further away. I am only trying to challenge these generalities we have created that might have led to inefficient conversations that keep us stagnant when it comes to reform and policy change. But the truth is, universities are property owners and land developers themselves. UNC Asheville isn’t the only university blind to its hypocrisy. The only reason I was able to make this connection, is because, during our interview, Jennifer Hoyle mentioned their development site with the combined Target store, had initially received a lot of push back from the Loyola University community. They claimed that Target would be an act of gentrification and would take up more potential housing space. This would be a healthy criticism, had it not been the case that the university has a late-night cookie delivery service and a Burger King in the nearby area. JR Fleming says that the three dangerous slopes of development are waterfronts, downtowns, and universities. We can not be complicit in social injustice as a university, we must instead be community partners.
There is an obvious racial element of gentrification that should also be explored. Spike Lee calls it the “Christopher Columbus Syndrome”, others “benign ethnic cleansing.” I believe that it is inherently impossible to talk about any institution in America without bringing up racial history. In Asheville, that history has been forcibly erased. Communities like Burton Street, that are fighting to keep the city from devouring their land for more highway lanes. Near the River Arts District, there are five public housing units that predominantly serve Black residents. While millions of dollars get poured into this area for galleries, restaurants, and parking decks, these housing units sit in a food desert, where the only nearby affordable food market is a mini-mart. These stories cannot be overlooked.
But gentrification may also be a topic in which we could also look outside of race (depending on the city) and lean more into class. According to a 2015 article by the Los Angeles Times, “plenty of gentrifiers are Black. The black educated middle class, some of whom had left for the suburbs when inner cities were collapsing, are now driving up rents for longtime residents in gentrifying areas of New York, Washington, and L.A., just as their white counterparts are.” On the other hand, there is also the argument that even though Black upper-middle-class residents can be gentrifiers, it’s on a micro level, therefore not a real issue. Or, that Black residents can’t be gentrifiers at all because the system of gentrification is institutionalized to harm Black residents in the first place. I can’t say I agree with one argument over the other, but it’s important that all perspectives are presented.
The reality is, this issue is more multifaceted than the conversations we have had surrounding it. We want easy ways to place blame, but there are more actors involved than many have anticipated. This overwhelming truth about many of the systems and issues that this paper has covered, shouldn’t mean we throw up our hands in despair. It means that we should have more hands involved to participate in a conversation that could use as many resources as possible. Even though many of us are only here in Asheville for the four to five years that we are in school, what side of the story of development do we want to be on?
Conclusion
I could not have written this without the help of the CHA.
As progressive and morally simple it is to believe that housing is a human right, we are wrestling with decades of history, negligence, racism, classism, and exploitation. Although I believe these issues can be fixed— with more positive models of public housing and self-sufficiency programs, inclusionary conversations where the voices of the marginalized are being heard the loudest, and an acknowledgment of the very violations that exist— I also believe that these issues take time. That they take a deep understanding of a city’s evolution and the acceptance that policies can’t be made or enforced with a broad stroke. Above all else, we must be honest and transparent about the work that needs to be done. And that’s what scares me the most. If America has proven anything, it is that we are capable of almost everything except being honest. Yet, it is still worth working towards a nation that can shift its ideology of those who live in poverty and need government assistance. It is worth working towards a society where every community is surrounded by opportunity and mobility. A society where we see ourselves in each other and care about each other’s livelihood. Not just the very young or the very old but all the lives in between.
Kotlowitz told a good story. But it was written in 1992, and by the end of it, left little hope. I do not believe stories or communities or individuals are hopeless. No matter the issue, we should look beyond the page. We should find hope— even when it looks like there is none.
if you would like to see the original footnoted version with all my sources, see here!