Disclaimer – the author has opted to remain anonymous to protect the identity of themselves and their family.
A few weeks after my 15th birthday, my mother, brother, and I moved out of my childhood apartment. After an argument between my parents became physical, my mother decided that for our collective well-being, the three of us had no choice but to leave. Facing enormous pressure to find housing as quickly as possible, she eventually signed a lease for an apartment a three streets down. Two months later, we gathered our belongings into every suitcase, backpack, and trash bag we could find, packed up her car, and left. In a city where the median rent for a two-bedroom apartment hovers just around $4,000 and the average price of a condo is between $900,000 to $1,000,000, house hunting is already a strenuous process. When combined with the emotional strain of abuse, the stress of quickly finding affordable housing, and the financial burden of additional fallout such as divorce, escaping unsafe situations is an uphill battle. For low-income or financially unstable survivors, the climb only becomes steeper.
For my mother, supporting us required working 3 jobs. However, her ability to regain financial independence was rooted not only in how much she worked but how much she earned. While a non-traditional college student, the degrees she had worked towards throughout my childhood and teenage years guaranteed her access to higher-paying jobs and a path to upward mobility. It is not lost on me that she is an exception. Many have not had the same educational or employment opportunities, leaving them to work multiple jobs and similar hours, but make significantly less. To quantify the burden working families face, in Massachusetts, a minimum wage worker needs to work at least 122 hours a week to afford a similar two-bedroom apartment. For those working a 40-hour work week, they would need to earn $45.90 per hour.
While the city my family and I live in may be located in Massachusetts, and exceed average housing costs, the crisis of housing unaffordability is an increasingly national phenomenon. While certain urban and coastal markets have always been expensive, traditionally affordable housing markets in places such as the Sunbelt States are facing surging prices that threaten to homogenize this crisis. Locally, the Connecticut Fair Share Housing Study found that “Connecticut has one of the most constrained housing markets in the country,” with anywhere from 120,000 to 380,000 new units needed. This burden is particularly faced by extremely low-income (ELI) households and households below the Average Median Income (AMI). In an analysis of housing needs by state, the National Low Income Housing Coalition found that there is a shortage of 94,446 rental homes for the 141,158 renter households that are identified as ELI. The implications of this go far beyond housing affordability. The National Network Against Domestic Violence finds that “38% of all victims of domestic violence become homeless at some point in their lives”. Stressors such as a financial inability to fulfill basic needs or access affordable, quality housing often themselves contribute to Domestic Violence, while unaffordability acts as a major barrier for survivors who seek to break cycles of abuse.
In recognition of the intimate relationship between housing and Domestic Violence, government actions such as the passage and reauthorization of the Violence Against Women Act (VAWA) have explicitly included housing protections and assistance. Yet, a severe shortage of units and under resourced safety nets means support systems and unit accessibility remain grossly insufficient. For instance, in 2022 alone, the National Domestic Violence Hotline found that of the 16,611 who contacted the Hotline, “84.5% of domestic violence survivors had unmet housing requests.”
Our national ability to make significant progress in mitigating the crisis of Domestic Violence is contingent on a substantial commitment to addressing the interconnected issue of housing affordability. While governmental and other organizations have made strides in seeking intersectional solutions, there is still a deficit of support systems, highlighting the importance of the cross-sectional work advocacy groups such as the Partnership for Strong Communities are completing.
As for my family, we have finally achieved both financial and personal independence. While eternally grateful, I am well aware that our story is the exception, particularly amongst Black survivors of domestic violence. This fact continues to drive my passion for violence prevention and economic and racial justice: everyone deserves to live in a world where safety and housing are a right, and not a privilege.