Harlem Tenants Face Changing Douglass Circle

Toby Jenkins is a realtor of sorts.

In the late 1980s and early 1990s, toward the end of the city’s darker ages, he and many others bought the run-down lots and crumbling brownstones of Harlem. The properties were kept in their dilapidated condition, and since few wanted to move into a neighborhood rife with drugs and crime, reconstruction garnered little profit. The city eventually bought many of the properties and resold them for cheap to community development organizations to construct affordable housing. Yet some of these relics have been sitting around until today. And now they’re worth a mint.

“There were a lot of vacant lots that people had hung on to,” Jenkins explained. “I’ve bought places from families who’ve been there for over 70 years. I guess they just wanted to cash in their chips. I gave a good price 15 years ago, but now I’m getting a million for a pile of rubble.”

A brownstone, with its windows boarded and its masonry crumbling, is one such location. It sits, seemingly out of place, between two buildings that have recently been completely renovated. Residents of south-central Harlem—the area roughly between 125th and 110th streets to the north and south and Adam Clayton Powell Jr.

Boulevard and Morningside Park on the east and west—say that construction has exploded in the past five to 10 years. Buildings once condemned are now high-end residences. The new neighbors are, for the most part, white and wealthier than the long-rooted residents, who tend to be poor and black.

As interest looms over the city’s controversial rezoning plan for 125th Street, the new landscape of Harlem may actually be developing seemingly unnoticed just to the south.

BIG MONEY

The affordable-housing game in south-central Harlem has indeed changed in the past few years. “At one time in the ’80s, we actually owned 60 percent of the realty in Harlem,” recalls Neil Coleman, a representative from the city’s Department of Housing Preservation & Development. “That was the old model, where we owned the building, and we could sell a lot for a dollar and then have a clause for affordable housing.”

Many of these bottom-dollar properties were sold off to community—particularly church-based— development groups, such as the Abyssinian Development Corporation and the Harlem Congregations for Community Improvement, Inc., so that they could construct subsidized housing. Many other landlords also agreed to take in large numbers of city-subsidized tenants, who were seen as well behaved and likely to be timely with their share of the rent.

But now that Harlem has become prime real estate, owners of the remaining lots and old buildings, such as Jenkins’ property, are selling to big-name real-estate developers. And to make room for affordable housing, the city is resorting to new tactics. “We cannot dictate to a private owner how they’re going to use a building,” Coleman said. “So now it’s a question of incentives and encouragements for them to build affordable housing.”

Such incentives include the 421-a tax benefit, which protects a developer from property tax increases for a number of years as long as they maintain 20 percent of their units as affordable housing. Another, according to Coleman, is inclusion rezoning, in which developers are allowed to build structures taller than zoning ordinances would normally allow, as long as they provide for affordable housing.

“I wouldn’t say it’s a compromise,” Coleman said. “We’re just dealing with a different market. It’s a different situation from when we owned the land to when we don’t.”

THE AFFORDABILITY CRUNCH

“That man over there bought that house. He isn’t renting, that’s a family place now,” said Linda Smith, gesturing to a brownstone across the street. Over 17 years, Smith has seen the area’s desirability skyrocket and its available rental space plummet. “Why wouldn’t you want to live here?” she said. “You’re right next to the park. And you can spit on midtown from here.”

South-central Harlem is experiencing an dramatic transition from renting to buying. According to a report issued by New York University’s Furman Center for Real Estate and Urban Policy, central Harlem’s rate of home-purchase loans has increased dramatically. While many of the area’s revamped buildings contain affordable housing, these units are being sold and not rented.

At the Delany Lofts on 115th Street between Frederick Douglass Boulevard and Adam Clayton Powell Jr. Boulevard, six of the 36 units are classified as affordable housing. Of them, single-bathroom units go for $136,903, two baths for $168,836. The other units, at market rate, cost over $400,000. Most of the new buildings are split in this manner, some with even more affordable housing units—the SoHa 118 on 118th Street and Frederick Douglass Boulevard is approximately one-third affordable, according to its realtor.

But the problem with this system, critics say, is that potential buyers need a certain level of savings to finance a mortgage and to pay for any repairs that may arise. For people below a certain income level, buying is simply too risky. Many of those buying price-controlled units in south-central Harlem do not have roots in the community.

Babette Roberts and her husband Bruce moved to their price-regulated condo on Frederick Douglass Boulevard four years ago. “It’s really exploded up here,” she said. “Six months after we bought, we wouldn’t have been able to afford it.” Even though the Roberts could have sold their property at market value after three years, they don’t plan on leaving anytime soon. “There’s a lot of new families up here. I see a lot more strollers,” she explained. “I think most people come up here to find space to raise a family.”

At the Delany Lofts, the household size for the affordable units is one or two people. A single person’s income must be between $35,000 and $43,000 per year to live in the complex. Total salary for a couple is capped at $49,150, with a cap on standing assets of $96,465.60. For the average Harlem resident, who makes only $26,000 annually and has little left over to put in the bank, this new housing is still out of reach.

“With the rent the way it is, I can’t save nothing,” 20-year resident Tyrone Johnson said. “It’s just so hard to keep up.” Johnson said that his rent is subsidized to consume only 30 percent of his income. But after taxes, insurance, and child support, Johnson is paying far more than 30 percent of his actual income for his apartment. This financial burden means he has little to no savings.

On his lunch break from detailing cars outside his building on 114th Street, Johnson washed his plate with the same hose he used on the cars. “You see what I gotta do to get by?”

“I just buried my aunt last week,” he added. “Are we just gonna wither away?”
The answer to Johnson’s question is still unknown. Jenkins, the veteran realtor of the gentrification wars, said initial displacement of long-time residents may slow once readily available property dries up. “If a place goes upscale, the people who are fortunate enough to have gotten affordable housing have stayed,” he said.

The residents themselves also expressed hope that they will be able to stay.
Commercial industries have moved in quickly with the new residents, bringing new jobs to be occupied by locals.

“They’re not gonna get rid of them [the long-time residents],” said Jason Brown, who has lived in the neighborhood all 30 years of his life. “We’re too tied to this place with work. There’s more job opportunities now than ever.”

Mike Harris, a 20-year tenant, agreed. “There’s a lot of new business. This place used to be burnt out, but now it’s on the uppity-up. I think it’ll be a change for the better. I mean, we got a health foods store across the street. Never thought we’d have that before.”

zack.hoopes@columbiaspectator.com