Gentrification and the NYC Housing Market: A Second-gen Immigrant’s Reflections

Originally seen in Cincinnati Magazine

My hometown was once the semi-affluent neighborhood of Astoria, Queens, New York City. When I close my eyes to conjure the streets and storefronts, I remember the sunshine brightening the awnings of quaint cafes, rows of thrift stores, and a few too many cookie stores. Whenever I tell people that I hail from what they now perceive to be a hip, trendy town and moved to South Richmond Hill, there’s congratulations mixed with confusion. What could justify leaving Astoria? It was for survival. My family, in essence, was pushed out.

My parents rented out a one bedroom apartment in Astoria for the better part of 20 years. Prices were affordable (though, in retrospect, adults were always complaining about the costs). Greeks and Bengalis could unite under being first- or second-gen immigrants, growing up on Crescent Street, and attending the same public primary schools. Local small businesses welcomed people of color, offering familiar foods, friendly translation services, and a microcosm of a community that felt close to home.

However, around the late 2010s, my family and I noticed disconcerting changes. Stores that had been successful for as long as I could remember were suddenly demolished. In their place, posters were put up displaying sleek, sparkly supermalls that towered over everything. Our landlord, who once kept the rent stable and appreciated my father for always paying on time, began itching to raise prices and push us out. All of our Bengali acquaintances, struggling to juggle rent plus maintenance costs, migrated to Buffalo, NY; New Jersey; or left the northeast altogether. In their place, rich white youths moved in. I had no complaints about them, per se, but it became clear that they saw my brown skin as a relic of the past–I wasn’t their target audience for baby boutiques and chic “chai tea latte” spots.

As Gen-Z kids, we were willing to battle the racial discrimination and generational poverty involved with this transition. But, our millennial and Gen-X immigrant parents saw racism and housing discrimination as something to bear; a “tax” to pay for the privilege of living in America. My Bangladeshi parents were too fatigued to protest gentrification after decades of struggling to achieve the American Dream, but Gen-Z residents were less willing to keep their head down. Intrigued by these fundamental differences between Gen-Z and older generations when it comes to housing and gentrification, I spoke with a friend who has also had personal experiences with these issues.

Rebecca Ke, a senior at Stuyvesant High School, lives in Manhattan’s 8th Avenue Chinatown. She expressed her gratitude towards her neighborhood: “Eighth Avenue is well known to be a place where a lot of Chinese people live [...] and all of them typically speak Mandarin or Chinese, and other dialects of Chinese,” Ke said. Her parents chose to move there because they did not speak English well, and that aspect of the 8th Avenue Chinatown has allowed them to survive in America for decades. “My parents have reassured me that when I go to college, they're going to be fine because in the neighborhood they live in they [won’t] need English. [That was] a concern of mine because I act as a translator for my parents.” Ke’s concerns about language barriers and gentrification are widely echoed by a large portion of American Gen-Z youth, many of whom are products of immigration waves during the 80s to early 2000s. Approximately 29% of Gen-Z Americans are first-generation Americans, a 6% increase from millennials.

However, Ke has noticed that, similarly to Astoria, the demographics of the 8th Avenue Chinatown are quickly changing. Relatedly, prices are rising and bigger, tourist friendly stores are moving in. “I see a lot of big stores popping around [that] are still Asian, but more popular with tourists.” She added, I do find it worrying if there [are] going to be more people who aren't of Chinese descent to move there because of [associated] rising prices,” said Ke. Concerns surrounding demographic changes aren’t necessarily rooted in exclusion or a disdain towards possible incomers to Chinatown, which is a common argument used against anti-gentrification proponents. Rather, physical immigrant-based communities exist to support people of color who may not have easy access to traditional systems such as housing. In fact, most of the small businesses in the Eighth Avenue Chinatown rely on providing resources tailored to help Chinese immigrants: Mandarin-speaking doctors, tax collectors, translation services, immigration lawyers, Chinese restaurants, etc. It’s more than simply wanting to live with people that “look” like you.

Nowadays, Gen-Z and millennials, as inflation rises and communities of color are demolished to make space for large corporation buildings, are being forced to take more unconventional forms of housing. “A lot of housing in my area, and in a lot of Sunset Park specifically is underground housing,” Ke said, “[...] they have a top floor and there's like a basement level where you can go down and live in that area, which [...] makes more space and stuff.” Ke herself was forced to move several times in her childhood due to varying reasons relating to housing unavailability or problematic landlords. “I lived in a house that they eventually kicked us out [of] because they wanted to [...build] another wall in the area, like in the house itself. So they could add more space. So they can say it's more rooms to rent out,” Ke recalls. Not only is it immoral to have locals live in smaller spaces like these, but they pose genuine health risks as people can get trapped during floods and are prone to pest infestations. This is the devastating reality that Gen-Z and millennials must face when it comes to housing and gentrification in NYC: as more non-locals and corporations move into areas with lower property taxes and prices, they utilize unfair methods to push locals out, many of whom are often people of color and/or descendants of immigrants.

One recent incident in which Gen-Z activists rallied for ethnic residential areas was related to mega incarceration. In 2017, Mayor Bill DeBlasio approved an $8.3 billion dollar fund to build a 40-story “Mega Jail” in the Centre Street and Baxter Street Chinatown. This plan necessitated the demolition of dozens of Chinatown residential buildings and the displacement of hundreds of Chinatown residents. In response, Gen-Z Chinese-Americans united with older generations to protest these plans, arguing that the plan took advantage of the lower income Chinese immigrants that lived there. Furthermore, several non profit organizations such as Welcome to Chinatown combined online resources with social media initiatives to encourage activism against gentrification – a combination which is uniquely and markedly Gen-Z.

However, housing market grievances and benefits don’t stop at gentrification. As Gen-Z ranges from 11 year-old children to 26 year-old adults, we’ve just recently begun to enter the housing market. From college dorming to house hunting near our workplaces, we’ve been facing incredibly unique developments in the housing market that are inextricably tied to current politics and economics. Caleb Lee, a high school freshman based in Flushing, NY, recently had a brush with finding an apartment to buy in Manhattan in order to shorten his commute time to school. “Everyone would rather have a smaller [commute…] My commute is just an hour, but if I could find a cheap rent or cheap apartment near Stuy, that would still be great for me,” said Lee. Especially in NYC, where a large number of middle school and high school students attend magnet schools with longer commute times, the issue of transportation is a large incentive for students to move or rent a smaller apartment, though it’s by no means common. “Every few weeks or so [...] I would go on Zillow to look at some rentals or look at even buying an apartment. [...] I think I did find some good ones. But their maintenance was high or their rent was pretty high. Or it just wasn't good enough to make me actually want to buy it,” said Lee.

Something that Lee thinks is a uniquely modern, Gen-Z-specific contribution to finding housing today is the impact of technology on transparency in the market. For example, apps like Zillow and Trulia have purposefully made it harder to find critical information about residentials that can explain cheaper prices, such as high maintenance costs, poor environments, or land leases. On the other hand, these apps have made it easier to find other kinds of technical information simply by looking at the house description. For instance, websites have made it much easier for Lee to check for Housing Development Fund Corporations (HDFCs) – co-ops for low-income families – and their income requirements. HDFCs can be a viable option to prevent rapid gentrification as they offer quality housing for stable rent prices and are less likely to neglect low-income locals in favor of richer non-locals. It’s worth it to say that by using social media and apps to erase the middlemen, Gen-Z is effectively creating a subtle rebellion, empowering themselves to demand information and spread awareness about unfair practices in the housing market.

Both Ke and Lee agree that compared to past generations, Gen-Z and millennials have far less support when it comes to successfully navigating the housing market amidst economic crises. The process of buying a home has greatly complicated since the reign of the nuclear family model of the 1950s – a model associated with one mother, one father, and their children. But many aspects of American life have changed since those days, including inflation and job salaries that don’t quite cut it. According to a Redfin study featured by Forbes, millennials and Gen-Z have faced the brunt of the housing crisis, as every two in five Gen Zers and millennials work side hustles in order to save up for a down payment. Furthermore, more paperwork, more criteria, and more government regulations without adequate personal finance education in schools have left many Gen-Z Americans clueless as to how to even start the process of buying a property.

In the future, both Ke and Lee hope that the government will take steps to alleviate Gen-Z of their housing woes. We’ve seen it in the past; during the COVID-19 pandemic many NYC citizens received help from rent-relief programs for up to one or two years. Furthermore, small scale changes like mandating personal finance classes in public schools can leave Gen-Z better prepared to identify and tackle gentrification and housing issues. Lastly, I implore readers – no matter which decade you were born in, or where you live – to take a stance against housing discrimination and gentrification. Signing petitions to stave off unfair redevelopment, shopping at small businesses, and participating in immigrant-based community events are all great ways to make sure that no one is pushed away from home ever again.

Gulam Monawarah is a senior at Stuyvesant High School. She serves as an Editor of her school newspaper, the Stuyvesant Spectator. In her free time, she likes to knit, illustrate, rollerblade, and listen to R&B music.