For many years, I took for granted the security that comes from knowing I always had a home to return to. I’ve had the privilege of growing up my entire life in the house that my parents bought before I was born. When I moved into college, I didn’t give a second thought to the fact that I had guaranteed freshman housing. Unfortunately for me, I had not yet learned the expectations about choosing roommates and housing for the next year would come up within two months, nor did it fully sink in that the lack of guaranteed housing could very quickly become a dire situation.
College Housing: A Game of Luck
I was insanely idealistic. My friends and I were incredibly hopeful about securing the best option for on-campus housing, not fully aware of how competitive the housing selection process would be. We received our housing time slots, which were spread over the course of 10 days. The housing portal opened up on January 13th, and within that day, the number of open spaces across all housing options plummeted. The dread I felt of not knowing if I’d be able to secure housing next year was terrifying. Every minute leading up to the selection time slot for my group 4 days later was excruciating. This was one of the most stressful times of my life.
On-campus housing is the only financially sound option for many university students. I hadn’t considered before that I might need to live off-campus next year. This brought up a variety of issues, including:
- I was suddenly searching for off-campus housing in January. I was unbelievably behind the curve as other students had been securing off-campus housing options as early as last September and October.
- Many off-campus options were thousands of dollars more expensive than on-campus.
- All off-campus options locked renters into 12-month contracts, requiring monthly payments for nearly 4 months of which my roommates and I wouldn’t actually be living there during the summer.
On the morning of my time slot, thankfully, I was able to secure the last open option for my group of 3 in one of few still-available residential buildings. Huge sigh of relief! It felt like I could breathe freely again without that immense weight bearing over me, albeit mildly short-lived when I realized that I would have to go through an identical process in the next coming years until I graduate. Even further, I realized there are so many people who don’t get that relief, solely on the basis of a random lottery system. I was simply lucky. After 4 days, housing ran out and students scheduled for time slots in the rest of those 6 days were put on a waitlist, still left without housing and forced to look off-campus at places that many students can’t afford. I’ve learned that the ratio between the expansion of the university student population and of the university residential housing is not linear, nor are its effects. I’ve also noticed that the expansion issue takes a larger toll on the local community as well.
Community Disenfranchisement
Over the past few decades, the increasing number of UVA students without a parallel increase in available options for on-campus housing has resulted in larger populations of students competing for off-campus housing. Landlords redirect their business around university students’ housing demand, frequently higher-income than the local residents, and increase rental prices to capitalize on the demographic shift in the housing markets. Unfortunately, this disadvantages lower-income residents in the surrounding Charlottesville community. People are not only unable to afford average home prices to buy near universities, they are then forced out of rental properties as prices skyrocket. Inflation and difficult housing markets already create a terrible burden for low-income families and neighborhoods, but increasing prices catered to university students off-campus only serve to amplify the housing crisis.
During my freshman year at UVA and experiencing life in Charlottesville for the first time, it was startling to see the visual reflection of gentrification in the different areas around the city and the larger Albemarle County. When I visited the shopping districts, I was shocked to see the stark difference between Stonefield—with its modern stores, townhomes, and a movie theater surrounded by parking lots of expensive cars, and a predominantly white population—compared to the Fashion Square—a more rundown mall area with a large ethnic population that was heavily dependent on public transit. These two areas are separated by only a 7 minute drive. Charlottesville’s wealth disparities today are a reflection of gentrification that has directly harmed predominantly Black communities for decades. Areas such as Vinegar Hill, which was a thriving Black business and residential district, were destroyed in 1965 by the City of Charlottesville as part of an urban renewal project. Similarly, Gospel Hill, another predominantly Black neighborhood located south of UVA between Jefferson Park Ave and the Southern Railway tracks, was purchased by the university to expand the UVA Health System. These developments displaced hundreds of Black families and shut down Black businesses, which have lasting impacts to this day.
Privilege in Property Wealth
There is power in property. When I first walked on Rugby Road at UVA, passing the rows and rows of fraternity and sorority houses, I was amazed that all these Greek organizations had their own designated spaces to promote community, connection, and opportunity. Although I am not a part of any organization, I have spoken with other students who are affiliated with Greek life, and I have heard their feelings of significant pride and community from being able to engage with and live in their house with their brothers and sisters. However, as more events occurred over the course of the first semester, I began to notice the privilege and power inherent in the ownership of these houses.
Historically white fraternities have dedicated spaces to host their own events and leverage their property to rent to other organizations, thus making a profit. None of the historically Black and other ethnic fraternities and sororities have their own houses, forcing them to rent spaces from the white fraternities or other UVA locations if they want to host any events. Subsequently, students within these communities that want to attend are required to pay in order to cover the cost of renting the space. That brings up a lot of questions for me. Why is it that since 1973, when the first historically Black fraternities and sororities were established at UVA, now 52 years ago, not one organization has been able to secure a house in the same fraternity and sorority housing community? There are approximately 60 fraternities and sororities present at the university, yet there is not one house for any of the 9 historically Black fraternities and sororities, nor for the other ethnic fraternities and sororities present and active here. As I have become more aware of the housing issues at UVA and in Charlottesville, I’ve begun to notice various dynamics related to housing opportunity and availability rooted in systemic exclusionary practices. Without a one-size-fits-all solution to eradicate housing insecurity altogether, I believe awareness brings to the forefront the inequalities of housing equity, representation, privilege, and ultimately power.