Columbia's Expansion Would Destroy Hundreds of Homes; Tenants In These Properties Are United In Their Intent To Stay

Columbia University has attempted to portray its expansion plans in West Harlem as being of little disruption, and involving a minimal amount of direct displacement—especially of homes. But while Manhattanvillle is a largely industrial zone, there are large residential buildings in the area, and Columbia's plan would demolish the homes of approximately 140 families—more than 400 residents—who have strong ties to the area, and a major stake in keeping their homes. Columbia's desire to take every parcel of land between 125th and 134th streets would mean that families who have generations of history in the area—not only with their immediate families, but with their neighbors in their buildings and across the community—would be uprooted all at once. Nearly all of the families in these properties are low-income, but many have been working for years to become cooperative owners of their buildings through a unique city program—by all accounts a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for long-time tenants of low-income city properties to become stakeholders in the community they have known for most or all of their lives.

The story of 602 West 132nd street

602 West 132nd street lies at the northern edge of where Columbia wants to build its massive new facilities, near to the other residential buildings that Columbia is seeking to have demolished. Under Columbia's plan, New York State would use the governmental power of 'eminent domain' to seize these residential properties from the current renters, non-profit low-income rental management groups, and homeowners, against the wishes of the owners and occupants. The land would be sold to Columbia, the residents would be removed and relocated, and the buildings would be demolished. It's not exactly clear what would replace these homes, however, because Columbia itself admits that it doesn't really know yet what it wants to do with the 18 acres of land in Manhattanville that it is seeking to acquire and bulldoze. All Columbia knows is that it wants all the land, and along with that, a change in zoning that would allow new structures to rise almost 30 stories high in this area where most structures now are two-to-six stories. What Columbia wants to do with all this space is much less certain. Though Columbia calls the expansion project a 'campus', in fact classroom space is only a fraction of what it says it wants to build there. Overviews of the project submitted by Columbia suggest that the site would be dominated by biotech research facilities, student housing, office or research space that can be rented to private companies, athletic facilities with Olympic-sized swimming pools, for-profit retail stores and restaurants, luxury housing, and even a hotel. For the residents facing the bulldozer who have invested their lives into this community, it was outrageous enough that Columbia would seek to remove them from their homes against their wills; considering what Columbia wants to do with the land, the university's position is unconscionable.

Every tenant of 602 West 132nd street has deep roots in the community, and many households have multiple generations living in the same home. One man, now in his nineties, has been living in the same apartment since the 1950s. The vast majority of residents moved into the six-story apartment building over 30 years ago, or were born in the building; the newest arrivals to the building moved in over twenty years ago. There are 31 homes units in the building, and residents can tell you exactly who lives in every apartment; in every sense, the building exemplifies the model of a supportive community of people living together. 602 is home to a mix of seniors and people with working class jobs—an assistant teacher, a few home health care attendants, restaurant and fast food workers, a print shop employee, a police officer, and a nurse, to name a few. The families are Dominican, Puerto Rican, Ecuadorian, Mexican, Honduran, and African-American. This type of community cannot be created by urban planners or engineered by social workers; it is the type of supportive network that is grown and developed over decades by people caring for and depending on each other.

In the late 1970s, following a trend that swept low-income communities for a generation, the owner of 602 West 132nd street stopped paying taxes on the property, and the building was foreclosed upon and ownership was transferred to the City of New York. West Harlem, along with many low-income neighborhoods throughout Manhattan, the Bronx, and Brooklyn, saw an epidemic of owner-abandonment of private real estate that began in full force around the time of the city's fiscal crisis of 1977 and continued through the 1980s—with effects that can still be seen today. The exodus of the middle-class to the suburbs, spawned by various social forces, led the private market and the public sector to divest from the inner-city, and communities like West Harlem were forgotten by all but the people who called the neighborhood home. 602 West 132nd street was taken by New York City's Department of Housing Preservation and Development (HPD) in 1978.

For many years, there were virtually no developers interested in investing in properties in New York's low income communities, and the City of New York was foreclosing on buildings that were being abandoned by owners faster than it could find people interested in purchasing them. Landlord-abaondonment was such a crisis that one point, the city had unwittingly taken ownership of more than 65 percent of the private market housing stock of Harlem. This unique situation is what brought about the Tenant Interim Lease (TIL) program—a program that allows tenants living in properties that had been abandoned by private owners and foreclosed upon the chance to purchase their homes from the city for a nominal price and run them as low-income cooperatives. Considering that these buildings were acquired at no cost to the city, and usually housed very low income people, (the current average income for households in the TIL program is under $10,000 per year,) the city paid for full renovations of the properties before giving them to the tenants. After a trial period—usually five years—in which residents demonstrate responsibility and commitment by managing all building activities, the property is sold to current tenants for $250 per apartment. TIL is widely considered one of the most successful low-income housing initiatives in operation; the program requires active participation and responsibility from tenants, and it supports the existing neighborhood structure. No one is moved or put out to make way for this program; instead, buildings that were abandoned in the private-market are made accessible for purchase by the tenants of the properties who during the hardest of times remained committed to their communities. After more than 20 years of lingering in the hands of HPD, the tenants of 602 West 132nd street began a committed effort to participate in the TIL program in 2003.

As a part of the TIL program, tenants at 602 West 132nd street had every reason to think they would be owners of their homes in a few years. Residents held monthly meetings, elected a board of representatives, and were soon fully managing the property, from collecting rents, to keeping accounting records, to contracting out repair work—all using the budget of their rents. For tenants of 602, the first word that Columbia had plans to take their building by force and bulldoze it for their expansion started out as what seemed to be a rumor. Many dismissed what they heard, until members of the newly formed Coalition to Preserve Community invited tenants to Community Board 9 meetings and presentations by Columbia of the proposed campus. Luisa Henriquez, the treasurer on 602 West 132nd street's tenant board, says she first realized her building was slated for demolition while studying a 3-dimentional model of Columbia's plans for a new campus, on display at a community meeting. She kept looking at the map, trying to figure out why she couldn't see her building, until she saw that a new Columbia property was represented where her building was. A liasion from Columbia at first denied that any residential properties were being destroyed for the expansion. It is unclear whether this representative was misinformed, or whether at this early stage of design, Columbia had been so dismissive of the existing community as to not investigate what it was seeking to destroy. Either way, Columbia University has never informed these building tenants of its intentions directly, nor has it consulted them. Through the press and public documents, residents read about the latest plans that Columbia has for them, but never have they received an acknowledgement from the University that as residents and soon-to-be owners, they have no intention of moving.

In the months since Columbia announced its desire to pursue the 7 billion dollar, 18 acre development, the University began negotiating with HPD with how it would like to go about relocating tenants of 602 West 132nd street, along with the other TIL buildings and rent-stabilized buildings in the expansion zone. The City of New York unfortunately agreed to clandestine negotiations, and seemed to have presented terms by which a relocating of the more than 100 families would occur, despite the fact that Columbia's proposal has not been voted on by any governmental agency, and the university as of yet has no rights to develop as they wish in Manhattanville nor acquire properties such as 602 where the soon-to-be owners do not wish to sell. Even the very fact that Columbia was negotiating with HPD was only revealed after student reporters at the Columbia Spectator filed a Freedom of Information Request. (See: Relocation Discussions: Residents Allege HPD Secrecy, Privacy Violations . Columbia Spectator. March 2, 2006.)

Currently, the tenants of both TIL properties in the expansion zone are working to ensure that HPD continues with their initial promise to help tenants become cooperative owners of these properties. They are seeking support for an expedited timeline for completing repairs of the property so that they are not vulnerable to any city agency trying to broker deals on their behalf. These tenants have joined the broader struggle to resist a hostile takeover of the community by Columbia, and support for the tenants' cause is widespread. Jordi Reyes-Montblanc, chair of CB9 and long-time advocate and organizer of low-income cooperatives, has on many occasions publicly declared his outrage at Columbia's intention to displace these tenants. "It will not happen," Montblanc said of Columbia's plans to use the State's power of 'eminent domain' to remove the residents by force. "They'll have to drag my dead body out of here first!" As to suggestions by Columbia University that similar accommodations could be found for the residents elsewhere, tenants are unified in their intentions to remain just where they are. "We've been here for too long to be moved," said Luisa Henriquez. "This is the area I was raised in. We know everyone. This is the area that we love."