Affordable Housing Fight Continues

Take a look at this article written by the Long Island Press about the fight for affordable housing.

Affordable Housing on Long Island

When you’re done, swing back here and read what I sent to the editor.

To the editor:

When I read Spencer Rumsey’s story on affordable housing, I was living in a hotel in Raleigh, N.C. while my fiancé and I wait to move in to our newly leased apartment. Our apartment in Northwest Raleigh has more than 1,000 square feet, two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a patio, and is a two-minute walk to Lake Lynn. We will be paying $745 a month.

We moved here about a week and a half ago from Suffolk County after the cost of living gave us no other choices. A newly engaged couple, we knew that a future together could not start while living with our parents. We came to North Carolina after I was able to obtain a job with one of my previous employers that has a office based in Raleigh.

The cost of living and affordable housing issue has been covered to death, but in most of the articles read, no one seems to mention how the salaries on Long Island are not on the same level as the cost of living (perhaps we’re all afraid of being labeled a socialist or communist). While living on Long Island, my fiancé and I, together, made a whopping $40,000 a year despite having advanced college degrees.

With technology companies fleeing Long Island for cheaper territory (FYI Raleigh has been named as one of the best places for a tech company to relocate), all the jobs that are left low-paying retail positions. Higher-paying jobs can be found in Manhattan, but the cost of commuting for many Eastern Long Islanders outweigh the increase in salary.

I have heard the argument from many Long Islanders that moving south would come with a severe dip in salary. In many instances, that’s not the case. But even if it were, the salaries are on the same level as the cost of living. In my case, I took a $3,000 hit when I moved south, but look at the amazing apartment I can afford with that hit.

The cost of living issue on Long Island is a multi-faceted problem. Until residents, business owners, school districts and politicians begin to address all of the issues that created and continue to exacerbate this problem, many young people will continue to flee Long Island.

Week One

I’ve been in Raleigh for a full week and I’m sort of starting to feel like I’m a resident instead of just a visitor. What I do feel is calmer despite having to deal with some pretty stressful situations.

Take my commute, for instance. My hotel is five miles from the office. It takes me 15 minutes to get there, but not because of traffic. The main road I travel, while busy, has a decent amount of lights. Also, being that I drive a red car with out of state plates, I’m not about to be booking it at 70 miles per hour.

When there is traffic, it is because of build-up at a red light and not because of congestion. As soon as that light turns red, it’s off we go. Glenwood Avenue, or route 70, where my office is located is a hybrid of route 347 and Sunrise Highway. Like 347 it has lights that are spaced out a few miles. Like Sunrise Highway, once you get past I-540 it becomes a real highway with exits.

The lack of traffic ultimately makes me feel more at ease.

What also makes life easier, are the type of people here in the South. All around, the people are much nicer. For example, yesterday I had to call a woman to tell her we needed to push back her window installation. The woman did acknowledge that she was frustrated no one told her until the morning of the original appointment (in my defense, I found out 10 minutes before I called her and I’m sure my boss found out 10 minutes before that). While slightly annoyed, this woman understood that the installers are working in 100-degree heat and are doing the best they can under some tough working conditions. The same call in New York would have resulted in some yelling, cursing and an angry request to speak to my supervisor.

Working with more understanding people makes dealing with problems a little easier. I’m bound to have a few arguments and a few crazies. One guy wouldn’t tell me his name but wanted me to pass on the message how irritated he was that no one was retuning his calls. In the grand scheme of crazy, he was nothing.

Sure, life is still hard.

We’re living in a hotel that is costing us two months rent.

We don’t have an address to attach to any paperwork.

We barely have enough money to be approved for an apartment.

Chuck doesn’t have health insurance.

Chuck doesn’t have a job.

But, for some reason, life seems better.

The Hunt

When you live in a hotel with no clear plans on when you’re leaving, your life ends up in this weird limbo.

The most obvious is not having an address. Sure, we can use the address for our hotel, but without knowing how long we’re going to be here, it’s not the best choice. Another option is having my mail sent to the office. That would be great if my job wasn’t moving to another location in a couple of weeks.

Home sweet home...hopefully.

Chuck and I went hunting for a permanent address yesterday. We had a handful of properties that we planned on checking out, but in the end, we only toured three. One was out of our price range, but one month free put it below. The other two were below our budget but when you threw in all utilities and pet rent all three became the same price.

It came down to which one we liked more. There was the woodsy place with the big bedrooms, big bathrooms and big kitchens, but was more than we could afford. The place next door was so small-town I felt like I was entering a commune for a cult. The last – off a busy street – was great, but our prospective unit lacked a fireplace and outdoor space.

We went with the woodsy place and decided to put our first month’s rent in the bank to put towards the rest of the year. It was the right fit.

I wish the application process was as easy.

The problem with applying for an apartment when you’re broke is, you’re broke. With only one income right now we have to rely on our savings to help pay the bills. The property managers seemed okay with this since they were willing to take proof our savings to supplement our meager income. It hasn’t been an easy process and despite getting a “welcome letter” I’m still worried that we’ll be without a home.

Chuck spent all day looking up tutoring services and scouring North Raleigh for Help Wanted signs in windows.

All we want is a chance and a place to come home to.

Last Day

It’s my last day at work and my desk is empty of any personal effects. I packed up most of my stuff yesterday when I finished writing all of my stories an hour before I was suppose to head home. It’s kind of surreal.

The last time I quit a job I handed my supervisor a letter and told him that it would be my last day. When he asked why I told him I didn’t want to work for a company with questionable business and moral ethics. The club members present suddenly looked interested in our conversation. It was easy to leave that job. I was cleaning toilets and scraping grass off golf shoes.

It’s harder to leave now despite the gripes I have with my job (By voicing my frustration I’m aware that it could one day bite me in the ass, but as a journalist I don’t believe in censorship, self or otherwise.).

Truth be told, there’s a lot I will miss about where I live and where I work. I won’t miss sitting in the car for an hour, but I will miss the views of the bay and the ocean while I drive on Ocean Parkway. I will miss meeting great people and telling their stories. While I have plenty of freelance work lined up, I will miss telling people that I write for a living.

I will miss my coworkers mostly. They make every day bearable. They make me laugh and offer a supportive voice when I’m feeling down. There is camaraderie in our office that I think most newsrooms lack. “Cut throat” is the last term I’d ever use to describe our office. We help each other with stories, share our sources, offer advice and a critical eye. We don’t think twice to add one’s name to a byline or give credit at the bottom of a story.

I think one of the reasons why I am hesitant to work in another newsroom is because I’m not convinced that this type of environment exists media centers outside this office. I think I just want to take the memories with me and never wish, “When I was working at the Herald, we weren’t like this.”

So I am writing a public thank you to all those that I have worked with. They all mean so much to me and words can’t describe how much I will miss them.

Holy Life Changes, Batman

I was just beginning to mentally process that I had quit my job and was taking another in a city and state 500 miles away when Chuck reached across a table at Trish’s Café in Babylon Village with a diamond ring.

I knew this moment was coming at some point. Hell, being the girl that I am every time Chuck and I did something together I was silently hoping for it. Realistically, I didn’t expect us to get engaged until after the move. It was too much for my brain to process.

I went from being 27 and feeling like a teenager to being 27 and feeling like an adult. It was a little overwhelming, but the happiness that I felt was beyond words.

Sorry, no actual engagement pictures. You'll have to deal with this one.

I knew that this was a step in our relationship that would have never come had we not decided to move down to Raleigh. You can’t get engaged and plan a wedding when you don’t have the funds necessary to move out of your parents’ house. Sure, plenty of couples live in their parents’ basement or attic apartments for a few years to save some money, but that’s not really an option for us.

Converting part of my house into an apartment would cost the equivalent of two years rent for an apartment in North Carolina and Chuck’s basement looks like it could be featured on an episode of Hoarders: Buried Alive. That’s not to mention the tax jump that would happen if our parents made these hypothetical apartments legal.

Moving wasn’t something we wanted to do, but something we had to do if we ever wanted to tie the knot. All the people that aren’t my parents or Chuck’s parents that know about our move believe it’s a great idea. Most of the older people I talk to tell me that after they retire they’re heading off the Island too.

It breaks my heart that I have to do this. Now, I have to plan a Long Island wedding from 500 miles away. Dress shopping, hall viewing and vendor meeting will all be done on rushed weekends before I hop on a flight back to Raleigh.

All this because Long Island is just too expensive.

Two Weeks Notice

It’s always awkward when you give your two weeks notice. It’s even more awkward when you go in with your boss who is also giving his two weeks notice.

I’m almost positive our boss had a slight stroke when we told him. Our departure makes 10 people in about a year to leave. After we leave, there will be three open positions, with one on the way with another reporter leaving to return to school.

My two weeks isn’t exactly so, as June 16 will be my last day at the Long Beach Herald. Two days later I will be driving down to Raleigh, N.C. where I will be working as an office manager at Four Seasons Sunrooms.

I worked at Four Seasons’ corporate office for a year during that awkward time between graduating from school and finding a job in my field. I didn’t love my job, but I had an amazing boss and amazing coworkers that made me happy. I got laid off, but remained in the good graces of my former colleagues.

The job fell in my lap.

I contacted my soon-to-be boss just to find out where the good areas of Raleigh were. Chuck and I were planning to move in August and I wanted to have an idea of where we should be looking for apartments. I jokingly told him that if they needed an assistant I could start right away. Three days later he was asking when could I start? Four days after that I was on the phone with his boss, talking salary ($2,000 less than what I’m making now, but the cost of living factor actually turns it into a raise). Two days after that I’m putting in my resignation.

While the job will be stressful, there isn’t much reason for me to work after six or on the weekends so it gives me plenty of time to freelance. With so many Heraldians now at Patch, a few said they would give me features, including my boss who is also heading to Patch.

Being an office manager isn’t my dream job and the gig will barely pay enough to pay the bills, but I can’t pass up an opportunity to work during a recession. Ultimately, I want to go back to school to teach kids how to read and write and continue being a journalist on my own time, at my own pace.

I think these days it takes a few more steps to get to where we’re going. Not too long ago, you went to college, got a degree and started a job in the field you paid to study. I’m just trying to find the balance of doing what I have to do and doing what I want.

Right now, I want to make a new life in a new place and if takes me a little longer to figure it out, I guess I’m okay with that.