35are shielded in periods of economic du-
ress: they pay up to 30% of their income
toward rent, while public-housing au-
thorities pick up the remainder. If a resi-
dent’s income declines because of a layoff
or reduction in work hours, their monthly
rental burden follows suit. The system is
designed to boost residents out of pov-
erty and to prevent their children from
falling into the same trap. “We like to say
that if we’re raising the next generation
of public-housing applicants, we failed,”
says Stephen Norman, the executive di-
rector of the King County housing author-
ity, which developed the project.
Affordable-housing advocates are en-
thusiastic about Biden’s proposals but
caution that they would be expensive
and complicated to implement. Nation-
ally, less than a quarter of American fami-
lies who meet eligibility requirements for
public-housing assistance are beneficia-
ries of it, according to a 2014 report from
the Urban Institute, a left-leaning think
tank, and on average, those who do ben-
efit from public-housing projects wait
nine months to be placed, according to the NLIHC. Within the
idealistic Greenbridge neighborhood, placement takes much
longer: if Aldama met the qualifications for a subsidized one-
bedroom unit there, he’d be joining a queue that is currently
more than 10 years long.
Like more than 10 million Americans in a similar situation,
Aldama doesn’t have that kind of time. The federal eviction mor-
atorium will expire at the end of March, and it’s unclear whether
state and local governments or the federal government will ex-
tend their bans, or for how long. “I know how close we are to
not having a roof over our heads,” Aldama says, adding that he
is aware that he and his partner remain in their home largely be-
cause of de Laat’s patience. “There’s not a day that I don’t think
about how grateful I am,” he says.
But, like de Laat, Aldama knows the current arrangement is
unsustainable in the long run. And neither of them sees an easy
way out. Aldama will continue to do food deliveries as long as his
clunker of a car starts, and he plans to apply for more in-person
jobs after he’s vaccinated. But for now, the possibility of making
enough to pay his rent next month—much less his back rent—
would be laughable if it weren’t so scary. When I set out to leave
his condo, he suggests I stop by a homeless encampment down
the road. “There’s probably 150 people living there,” Aldama
says of the intersection of Lake City Way and NE 125th Street.
Look closely, he adds. He may join them soon. —With
reporting by Mariah Espada/Washington 35%
Estimated
percentage of
total eviction
filings that were
sent to Black
renters amid
the pandemic—
despite
moratoriums3 in 4
Proportion of
landlords in the
U.S. who are
white