LOVE THY NEIGHBOR
a snapshot of columbus' housing crisis in 2022
In 2020, new housing construction in Columbus was the highest it had been in 15 years – 11,864 units were built. Yet even with this marked increase, Columbus continues to chronically underbuild. To successfully meet population growth, anywhere from 14,000 to 21,000 units need to be built each year. In addition to a lack of new houses, the existing available housing stock is critically low. Franklin County has lost nearly 10,000 vacant units in the years since 2010. When units are scarce and demand for housing increases, rents inevitably will rise.
At the nexus of these housing issues is semiconductor corporation Intel. To appropriately address the worsening crisis, Franklin County must build “more, compact, dense, and diverse” housing, said Michael Wilkos.
Wilkos is Senior Vice President of Community Impact for the United Way of Central Ohio. To him, using high-density development to address this problem is a no-brainer. He’s already both working on and living this vision for inclusive development in the city of Columbus, and he wishes more people would adopt his sort of “Yes, in my backyard” attitude.
To say “Yes, in my backyard” means to advocate for sustainable development in the region, not unlike Wilkos' neighborhood. To say, “Not in my backyard (NIMBY)” depresses the ability for people to move into an area and establish roots there.
All that's left is to wonder what it will take for Ohioans to say, with enthusiasm, "Yes, in my backyard! And in yours too!"
Two homes in Weinland Park. On the left, a home restored by Habitat for Humanity. On the right, a home with three illegal apartments run by a slum landlord.
Two homes in Weinland Park. On the left, a home restored by Habitat for Humanity. On the right, a home with three illegal apartments run by a slum landlord.
The Huckleberry House works with central Ohio's children and families to support those struggling with homelessness, abuse, neglect, or any other issues.
The Huckleberry House works with central Ohio's children and families to support those struggling with homelessness, abuse, neglect, or any other issues.
Michael Wilkos walks past one of the trees he's planted this year in his own neighborhood (illegally).
Michael Wilkos walks past one of the trees he's planted this year in his own neighborhood (illegally).
Nearly 2,000 people in Columbus are experiencing homelessness, and an even greater number face housing insecurity.
What do you do when 'home' isn't a physical space you can call your own?
Liz Blackburn could have slept on her mom's couch. Instead, she chose to be homeless.
Blackburn helped found Camp Shameless, a small encampment on Mound Avenue. With the help of FIRST Collective, a mutual aid organization committed to creating infrastructure and community for individuals without homes, she spent 6 months homesteading on the vacant lot. Over 30 individuals regularly stayed there, imagining a new way of living when housing wasn't an option.
On September 13, the City of Columbus evicted the residents and cleared the camp. One week later, I met with Blackburn to take a look at the empty site one more time and reflect on what went wrong.
"Our direct neighbor was our best friend. One thing she would say whenever people would complain about us is, “Hey, listen. You have a living room to argue in. They have to do it out here. Give them some grace.” And, people did! We were always really welcomed here."
It’s a cold and rainy November evening in Columbus. There’s Ms. Kim Hairston, standing at the door and welcoming in women who are out walking the streets. God’s front porch is right here, at the stoop of an old building on the corner of Parsons and Stanley Avenues.
An hour before the doors open, I find Kim in the kitchen grabbing coffee creamer and packets of sugar. She’s filling a table at the front of the room with a Keurig and plastic water bottles, grocery store cupcakes and a Ziploc bag of orange cheese sticks. Four warm boxes of pizza sit on a white folding table – two cheese, one pepperoni, one veggie. She tunes the TV to Jeopardy and makes certain there are enough warm gloves and socks and hats for the taking.
Kim opens her photos to show South Side commissioner Ms. Claudia Marshall her most recent excitement: A baby shower she organized. 5 years ago, Kim met the young mother high in a dumpster. Today, that woman’s sober and expecting a baby boy any moment now. Her eyes well up as she beams and flips the phone around. “That’s my baby right there. She’s off the streets this year!”
We are sitting on those trapezoidal stackable chairs you’d find in any church’s Connection Center at round, bare tables. On this block of Parsons, the United Methodist Church for All People church has built an entire campus of ministry as part of their nonprofit, Community Development for All People (CD4AP). A block down, the church’s sanctuary sits on the ground floor of the CD4AP offices. Across the street there’s an old drive-through that now houses the All People’s Fresh Market. Beyond just what you can see when you stand on the corner, CD4AP has done over $125 million of housing development on the South Side. As their brochure says, they’re “building the front porch of the kingdom of God on the South Side!” Tonight, Kim’s stationed on the porch and inviting people in.
Vulnerable women are always welcome here, but this space is made warm for them alone for 2 hours every Tuesday night. It’s all part of a new collaboration between CD4AP and Sanctuary Night, an organization born on Sullivant Avenue. It’s described on their website as “a sacred place serving vulnerable women who need a place to rest, eat, connect, and get desired resources. It is a vibrant community led by survivors and champions to promote the flourishing of all who sit at our table.” On that street, it started just like this evening: a small safe space for women in the neighborhood just 2 hours a week. Today, the organization has its own building where it offers 40 hours a week of services to the community. Now they’re focusing on how they can help other neighborhoods.
2 hours may not seem like a long time – but for a vulnerable woman walking the streets, any amount of respite is better than none.
Parsons Ave Sanctuary Night is now led by Kim Hairston. As a CD4AP volunteer who was once on the receiving end of these services, Kim understands what it means to walk through those double doors. It takes courage to give help, and it takes courage to accept it.
“It’s not about you doing the work. It’s about the work getting done. And you being an awesome part of it.”
“Did you make your doctor’s appointment?” Ms. Kim says as she walks towards her, arms open wide. The woman shakes her head. Kim peels the wet layers off of her, admonishing her for another missed appointment. “Better call them tomorrow to reschedule,” she says as she tugs a dry hat over the woman’s head.
“Already on it, Ms. Kim.”
It’s clear this woman needs some dry shoes. It’s clear Kim needs a small mission to focus on, something to get done right here, right now. On rainy nights, you don’t see too many girls come through here.
Kim calls to the table of volunteers as she pulls on her hood. “Need anything? You know how to love people up!”
Kim steps out into the street, jogging between cars to get across and out of the rain. Just a block down, she ducks into the church, heading straight for the Free Store at the back of the sanctuary. It’s past closing, but Kim gets what she wants around here.
We duck behind the “Free Store Closed” sign and flip on the lights. Over in the far corner, there are racks of shoes. Kim meticulously combs the shelves for a pair of boots, size 10. Something waterproof to make the night go easier. As a final resort, she asks the last remaining volunteer to unlock the back door so she can dig through the unsorted bin. He’s on it, begrudgingly, for Ms. Kim.
“I know the Lord will provide. I bet when we open that door, right there will be a perfect pair of size 10 rain boots.”
No luck. Even with God’s help. Still, Kim won’t return empty handed.
She grabs a pair of dry tennis shoes and makes a plan to go buy rain boots tomorrow.
Even though the Connection Center is mostly empty, reminders of the legacy of the South Side community fill the space. A hand painted two-lane road runs the length of the back wall, with historical photos of the neighborhood and its leaders along it in a timeline. On the opposite wall, a display of “South Side legends.” One wall is covered with a map of the neighborhood and its outreach centers, and half of the front wall is taken up by a large explainer on alternatives to calling the police. When I ask about all of these shrines to the South Side, Kim tells me they’re necessary to show the “talent and beauty of the [South Side]…It changes and grows and still the community survives.”
People forget that. They think the only answer is to start over. That an outside invisible hand will be the mover this neighborhood needs to be restored.
But Ms. Kim knows full well: Things don’t have to change to get better. Sustainable development happens when you work with who and what are already there. So, she will sit on the front porch of the kingdom of God and just say hi to her neighbors. Most people these days seem to have forgotten how to do that.
A reminder for the residents of Columbus:
A reminder for the residents of Columbus:
Before we head back, tennis shoes in hand, Kim hops on the elevator to stop in her office. She’s off the clock, but people are still asking her questions and stopping her while she walks.
“Ms. Kim!”
The front door to the office is locked, but we sneak in the back way. Through the kitchen, down a narrow hall lined with shelves full of craft supplies and jars of peanut butter, and into the back door of her little window-less nook. Above her humble desk, a typed Bible verse: “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid”. John 14:27.
Ms. Kim has had 7 lives. In one of her lives, she was a pastor’s wife. Before that, she watched her mother and grandmother pull a family, an entire community, together. Kim remembers how these women just did it. Humbly, with no thanks.
“I just feel like I’m not living up to that.”
She’s worried about her ego getting in the way. She’s worried about me following her around, making her the subject of a story she doesn’t want to be the center of. She’s worried about being perceived like she does this work for any other reason than simply: “It’s gotta be done.”
But, Kim cautions, you have to remember to take care of yourself too. She knows now: “You have to do the heart work to do the hard work.”
This hasn’t been an easy lesson for Kim to learn. Like most people in public service, caring for others is a reflex of hers. Learning to care for herself, though, can be a much more daunting task.
“It’s a university. I’m learning. And I hope I can graduate!”
“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid”. John 14:27.
It’s been a while since anyone’s stopped by, but Kim and the volunteers agree that the doors should stay open until 10 regardless. Sure enough, 10 minutes before closing time, a woman opens the door gingerly. She heads straight for the bathroom in silence, dripping rain from her shoulders onto the floor.
Ms. Kim knows her. She’s been around here for a while, but she’s never been like this. She seems young, but her face is worn with drug use. Her clothes hang from her bones with not much else in between.
A month ago, she wasn’t like this, but as Kim knows, things change quickly out here. All she can do is meet this woman where she is right now.
As she picks over a piece of cheese pizza and packs a grocery bag with her discarded wet clothing, Kim steps toward the woman with open arms.
“I’m gonna add a layer, sweetheart!”
She calls over the volunteers, personally introducing the woman to each of them. In one breath, Kim knits woman to woman. She’s added a layer of warm clothes to this woman’s back and a layer of support to gather around her. They all pledge at Kim’s request to keep an eye on her, to hold her accountable for her own survival.
No one can do any of this alone – it’s impossible. CD4AP knows that, Sanctuary Night knows that, and every single woman in this room has learned that. She tells me,“It’s not about you doing the work. It’s about the work getting done. And you being an awesome part of it.”
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