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America’s most invisible communities | Esther Sullivan | TEDxMileHigh


Translator: Rhonda Jacobs Reviewer: Laura Pasquale

Right now, there is no state in the nation

where a person working full-time for minimum wage

can afford rent for a fair-market, one-bedroom home.

In fact, affordable housing is so hard to find

you’ll actually spend less of your income

if you can afford to buy a house rather than rent.

But even an entry-level home, the cheapest homes on the market,

will cost you $370,000 in L.A.,

$245K in Boston,

$222K in Denver.

What if instead you could buy

a brand new, three-bedroom, two-bathroom home for $45,000,

which would put your total housing costs

somewhere in the range of $400-700 per month?

(Cheers) (Applause)

Right, exactly!

It seems like you’d be crazy not to jump at the opportunity.

Well, 18 million Americans are already in on the secret.

They’ve achieved the American dream of homeownership

and they’ve done it on a budget.

How?

You’re totally hoping I’m going to say “tiny home.”

(Laughter)

Mmmm.

Alright. Well sort of.

Enter the mobile home.

Okay, it lacks all the hype, but 18 million Americans live in one.

In fact, one in every five new single-family homes sold

is a mobile home, and that’s a serious statistic.

It’s serious because homeownership has long been a source of stability

and a principal source of wealth in the U.S.

And mobile homes are a primary way that low-income households

break into homeownership and start building that wealth.

Mobile homes provide a massive source of owner-occupied affordable housing

at a time when the U.S. has a major affordable housing problem.

We hear that a lot, right? We’re in an affordable housing crisis.

But what does that really mean?

It means we don’t have enough housing to meet the needs of millions.

At the lowest income levels, the people who really need housing help,

we’re short 7.4 million units.

That’s just 35 affordable units for every 100 households that need it.

The good news is that cities have begun to recognize

that access to quality affordable housing is good for everyone,

not just those that need it, but larger communities as well.

Sociologists like myself, who study housing, show us why.

Housing is an incredible source of stability,

which translates into positive educational outcomes,

health benefits, employment opportunities, and neighborhood safety.

So recognizing this,

cities are building some affordable units,

but many remain unaffordable for low-income people.

This problem is simply too big.

We can’t just build our way out of it.

If we’re serious about solving it,

we need to preserve the affordable housing that we already have.

Enter, once again, the mobile home.

Mobile homes are this country’s single largest source

of unsubsidized affordable housing,

and could play a major role in addressing our affordable housing crisis,

but there’s a problem.

One of our largest sources of affordable housing

is also one of our most insecure.

Mobile homes are insecure for two reasons

which are like two trains heading right for each other.

The first reason isn’t the home itself;

it’s the land.

About a third of mobile homes are installed in mobile home parks,

where residents own the home but rent the land.

Now, this is part of what makes the housing so affordable,

but it also means that homeowners can be evicted at any time

if the property owner decides to sell or redevelop the park.

The second reason they’re insecure is they’re invisible.

Think for a second

about the mobile home park closest to your house.

Some of you can probably picture it.

Maybe it’s off a highway, behind a strip mall.

But many of you might not actually know where the nearest mobile home park is,

and that’s not by accident.

That’s by design.

For over a century, planning and zoning regulations

have required that mobile home parks be walled in, fenced off,

and, in the language of planners, visually screened from view.

But perhaps the most damning of these regulations comes from laws

that don’t allow mobile home parks

to be established near conventional housing.

As a result, mobile home parks are disproportionately located

in commercial and industrial areas.

So now you can see those two trains about to collide, right?

When communities of homeowners that rent the land

are isolated onto commercial properties owned by a third party,

they’re the first victims of urban growth.

When a big-box store is looking for a place to build,

a mobile home park is an easy target.

Mobile home park brokers actually make a living

selling off parks for redevelopment.

One broker told me that Walmart is his best client.

When parks are redeveloped,

communities of homeowners who have lived in their homes for decades

are evicted with as little as 30 days’ notice,

and entire communities are dismantled.

And this is happening at an alarming rate, right now.

We have an affordable housing crisis in this country, yet we are allowing

one of our largest sources of affordable housing to disappear.

As a sociologist, I wanted to document the effects of these mass evictions,

so beginning in 2012, I rented a mobile home inside closing parks,

first in Florida and then in Texas.

I moved in and lived beside neighbors over 17 consecutive months

as they scrambled to deal with their eviction.

I then followed them for six more months after they were evicted.

This is what I learned.

The term “mobile home” is a complete misnomer.

Mobile homes are not RVs, they’re not campers.

They’re not intended to be mobile

once they’re first transported from the factory.

Once installed on land, just like any other home, they settle.

Moving them can cause serious structural damage

and cost up to $15,000,

and all of that is if they can be moved.

In the parks where I lived, lucky residents lost entire savings

and months of their lives dealing with eviction.

Unlucky residents lost everything.

Their homes were not structurally sound for relocation,

and they were forced to abandon them.

These residents were real people, like my neighbor Stella.

Stella prided herself on being able to live independently at the age of 87.

Stella was blind and completely homebound,

but her cheap rent and knowing every corner of her mobile home

had made that possible.

Stella had paid off her home many years ago,

but when her park closed,

she couldn’t afford to move it on her $790 Social Security check.

In the end, Stella lost her home of 20 years

and her prized independence.

She moved into a guest room in her son’s apartment.

Two blocks over from Stella, Randall meticulously maintained his home.

It was the first home he’d ever owned.

The first time he had me over, he apologized for it being so messy,

but then he later admitted he’d just been scrubbing the cabinets.

Randall learned that this home could not be moved,

and he desperately searched for housing nearby

so he could keep his job.

But he found nothing he could afford, even after months.

On the day before Randall’s park closed,

he transitioned from homeowner to homeless,

and to this day, he sleeps on a park bench about a mile from where his home once was.

When these parks close, residents lose homes

but also neighbors and social supports.

So Stella lost the neighbors who would come and check on her,

and Randall lost the people who could give him a ride when he needed it.

Randall and Stella are just two

of about 200 evicted homeowners I met during those two years,

and while everyone’s story is a little different,

the common reality is that mobile home park closures

create a cycle of housing instability

that extends well beyond these moments of eviction,

and that affects all of us.

Housing instability means that local teachers

get an influx of new kids partway through the year.

It means social service providers are stretched thin managing new caseloads.

It means small businesses lose reliable employees.

Zoning communities into invisibility creates housing instability.

But more than that, it creates social vulnerability

because it’s hard to care about what you don’t see.

But there’s hope because over the last century

we’ve solved some of our toughest housing challenges

by shining a spotlight on invisible problems.

We passed the first progressive tenement housing reforms

only after a photojournalist showed the world

the unsafe conditions in crowded slums.

We passed the Fair Housing Act only after African American Vietnam vets

showed us that they’d risked their lives for this country

but couldn’t buy a home in a white neighborhood.

We passed the housing measures in the Americans with Disabilities Act

only after activists with disabilities demonstrated

that they couldn’t fit through a standard entrance and into a home.

So perhaps we’re primed

to bring this next housing challenge into the light.

And that starts by working to change some of the very regulations

that keep mobile home parks invisible.

We’re ready for this.

I mean, you’re already binge-watching “tiny house” shows on HGTV.

(Laughter)

Your Facebook feed is full of them, you love them, you want to retire in one.

So we’re ready to push for new policies

that better integrate different forms of housing

into the fabric of our residential communities.

And we’re ready to address that underlying land ownership issue too.

We already have a model to follow: the condo model,

where residents own their unit and hold the condo property collectively.

There are parks that have actually tried this and it’s working.

In about 200 parks across the country,

nonprofit groups have helped residents collectively get a loan

so that they can buy their park and run it themselves,

and residents in these parks report seeing immediate improvements

in the maintenance, quality, and stability of their communities.

But maybe we can take an even more important step

to ensure housing security for everyone.

If we can reshape our thinking about the mobile home park,

we can go further to imagining housing as a basic human right.

The UN and most developed nations

recognize and have policies that affirm a human right to housing,

for all of the reasons that we’ve been talking about.

It’s hard to have health, wealth, and stability

if you don’t have a roof over your head.

Plus, housing insecurity is expensive.

It has costs for social services, businesses, schools.

Those are costs we all bear, so a dollar spent on housing

is a dollar saved on healthcare, infrastructure, and education.

Yet the U.S. remains the only developed nation

that doesn’t guarantee a fundamental human right to shelter,

but perhaps it’s time to change that.

(Applause)

So if we want to,

then that’s going to require enacting legislation

and shifting budgetary priorities, absolutely,

but we’ve made just these kind of legislative shifts before.

And it turns out that the mobile home park provides a pretty good roadmap

for why and how we should do this.

Parks show us the value of homeownership for all income levels.

Parks even show us

how we might imagine new, collective forms of property ownership.

And most importantly, parks show us that entire cities can benefit

when housing is secure for everyone.

Housing is one of our most fundamental human needs

and perhaps our biggest blindspot.

Let’s bring our attention back home

so we can create communities that work for all of us.

Thank you.

(Applause)

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