I recently
spotted a building under construction in a redevelopment district. I concurred with the mixed-use and transit
master plan for the district, so was pleased to see the construction.
When I asked
about the building, I was told that it was low-income housing, not surprising
because the post-recession financing opportunities for low-income housing have
been more robust than for other types of development. But the information about the low-income
housing came with a tone implying that it was housing for folks who weren’t
like us. It was housing for “others”.
I understood
why this attitude exists. Nor was it the
first time that I’ve come across the attitude.
But I was still troubled by it.
When we
isolate low-income folks in low-income buildings, we give those folks a label that
is often wrong and always unfair. Sure, a low-income building likely has
residents who have failed by laziness to grab opportunities or who have stooped
to crime, but it also has residents who have been battered by misfortune and
who are working hard to recover or who have chosen to follow a career passion
that doesn’t pay well. To paint all of
the residents with the same brush is unfair.
And to none
is it more unfair than to the children who live in the building.
Let me to
offer a fictional vignette, although one in which I expect most readers to find
at least a few reminders of events in their own pasts.
Let’s say
that a little girl from a low-income building heads off to begin first
grade. As children tend to do, she looks
about at lunchtime in hopes of making a friend.
And sure enough, she finds another little girl with whom to eat.
Over a
couple of weeks, the two become chums.
The girl from the low-income building eventually invites her new friend
to her apartment for a Saturday play date.
The friend
goes home and excitedly tells her parents about the invitation. The parents ask where the friend lives. Upon hearing the address, they exchange a look
and reply, “Well, perhaps she can come here to play.” The friend is only a few weeks into first
grade and has already learned that there are places and people that are somehow
different and unacceptable to people like her.
This
scenario is completely fictional, but it rings true, doesn’t it? I expect that many can recall similar
situations in their own lives.
So, what can
we do about the labeling? The obvious
solution is to educate folks that there are many solid citizens living in
low-income housing. But that effort
feels much like the racial equality issue which is still underway after sixty
years without an end in sight.
The next
alternative is to stop building projects that contain only low-income
units. I could write of a grand vision
of a world in which low-income housing isn’t needed, but that’s far beyond the
scope of an urbanist blog. But I can
write about beginning to incorporate all future low-income units into buildings
that also include market-rate units.
This would also
be a great change from an urbanist perspective.
Any timidity about walking past a low-income building would be
eliminated if low-income units were instead integrated into market-rate
buildings, enhancing walkability.
Changing this
model won’t be easy. There’s an entire
industry built around low-income housing, from non-profit developers to
government financing specialists to investors who specialize in the tax
credits. Restructuring the industry to a
more integrated model will require many adjustments. But the benefit is worth the pain.
Also, many
folks in market-rate housing won’t be eager to have low-income residents down
the hall, preferring that they remain in a separate building. That’s okay.
Many of the same folks once felt the same way about African-Americans
and were able to get over it.
Lastly, most
market-rate developers, for good reasons, don’t want to incorporate low-income units
into their projects. It’s already hard
to manage a project when building for a single demographic slice. Adding architectural design for a broader
range of units, managing additional subcontractors for different types of
details, and training salespeople to work with both market-rate and low-income
renters are all significant new burdens.
As a result,
most developers, given the alternative, would rather pay a low-income housing
fee than include low-income units in their projects. But that’s an option that we need to take
away from them.
Are there ways
to make developers more content to broaden the range of the target demographic
for their projects? Many cities allow a
higher density if low-income housing is included in a project, but the
incentive isn’t enough to entice most developers. Plus, the policy puts higher density on the
wrong side of the equation. It makes
density something that cities are grudgingly willing to accept in exchange for
a greater good, when density is something that cities should be actively
encouraging.
The only
solution seems to be something that I’ve suggested before. We need to clean up the entitlement process,
giving developers lower costs and more certainty. And then we require the developers to apply
their savings toward building the projects that walkable urban settings truly
require, including residential projects that integrate market-rate and low-income
housing.
Many believe
that upward mobility, the belief that talent and dedication can overcome humble
beginnings, is engrained into the character of the U.S. But the reality is that, by many measures,
social mobility within the U.S. has declined rapidly in our lifetimes and now
trails much of the western world.
There are
many reasons for this loss of social mobility, most of them beyond the realm of
an urbanism blog. But applying a tag of
“low-income housing resident” at birth is one of those reasons. And it’s one that urbanists should work to
eliminate. We need to stop slapping
labels on the foreheads of first-graders in pinafores.
As always,
your questions or comments will be appreciated.
Please comment below or email me.
And thanks for reading. - Dave Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)
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