Fair Chance for Housing may finally get a fair chance in New York City. Last Thursday, the proposed bill—which would make criminal history background checks of prospective tenants by landlords an unlawful, discriminatory practice—was brought in front of the Committee on Civil and Human Rights during a City Council hearing. Ahead of the meeting, a rally was held at City Hall drumming up momentum for the act.
“Right now, our city is experiencing an overwhelming housing and homelessness crisis that’s devastating the lives of countless New Yorkers,” said Majority Leader of the City Council Keith Powers at the rally. “As temperatures keep dropping, let these frigid days serve as a reminder: we must do everything in our power to get people off the streets and into stable housing. It’s past time we stop this endless cycle of incarceration and homelessness, and give these folks the chance to rebuild their lives.”
Another speaker, nonprofit Fortune Society’s Andre Ward, stressed to the Amsterdam News the importance of the rally the day before.
“[It] is to ensure that New Yorkers and concerned people realize that discriminating against people with conviction histories is not the right way to go,” he said. “And that people that have conviction histories deserve housing opportunities, just like anyone else. We know as an organization that there are 750,000 people in New York City who had conviction histories, that’s around 11% of the population.”
Of those with a conviction in the “Big Apple,” nearly 80% are Black and/or brown based on race data findings between 1980 and 2019 by the CUNY John Jay College of Criminal Justice. So while racial discrimination by landlords is explicitly banned by almost every level of government, an absence of Fair Chance for Housing opens the door to deny a significant number of Black New Yorkers housing.
Roslyn Smith, a program manager for the anti-violence movement V-Day, says after coming home from a 39-year sentence, she was rejected by race during her apartment search long before she could even be rejected by her conviction history.
“I would call them up and you know, I sound Black,” she said. “So I would have conversations with them. And I would ask them, is the apartment currently still available? ‘Oh, no, we just rented it out.’ But I just looked on the website 10 minutes ago, and ‘oh the website was updated.’
“They were giving so many stupid excuses that I knew it was because I was an African American person. Half the time, I didn’t even get to the point of putting in an application where they had the background check.”
City Councilmember Shahana Hanif says opposition of the bill is heavily rooted in landlord anti-Blackness rather than good faith safety concerns given that the Fair Chance for Housing Act, as it stands, would still allow property owners to check the sex offender registry with appropriate notice and would provide an opportunity for the applicant to dispute.
“I don’t understand the concerns, to be honest, because there are several exceptions to who has access to housing through this piece of legislation that would give them some ease,” she said. “This is about people’s safety and stability and people who are coming into neighborhoods to return to a life where they have stable housing, employment, school, and to be able to integrate into family life again. Landlords should be supportive of this [and] advocating with these people who will be paying rent and be good neighbors. And that’s the commitment.”
“That’s who I’ve heard opposition from. My team and I, and the majority of the Council—we have over 30 sponsors on this piece of legislation—are ready to debunk any of these myths that some of these landlords are spewing. I think a lot of what we’ve seen are dangerous myths and tropes. And then specifically, just anti-Black. It’s really important [to know] that this is the way the landlord community thinks of Black people. That’s not okay.”
In fact, proponents of Fair Chance for Housing argue that banning rental background checks increases public safety. They contend the bill would lead to easier re-entry to society, more employment and less recidivism. Additionally, a significant population of those returning home from a sentence are elderly and face elevated danger themselves if they cannot secure a long-term place to stay.
Smith ultimately found permanent housing after taking over a lease from a friend without a conviction, despite holding a decent paying job. For others, like Vilma Donovan, a leap of faith by sympathetic landlords is the pathway to housing. But before her stroke of luck, the long-time Fortune Society member was told to her face during an affordable housing lottery she would never find a place as a “felon.”
“The only reason I got housing is because a coworker who knew somebody else who knew somebody else, had an apartment, and the landlord knew of my conviction,” said Donovan. “This man said to me, ‘I’m gonna give you a shot.’ I lived in that apartment for 11 years. And not once was my rent ever late.
“Having a key to your own place to rest your head is the most important thing when you come home from prison. Especially when you’re doing everything that you’re told to do to re-enter society. Get a job, you got to do this stuff—this is what society says and I was doing it.”
But not everyone returning home from a sentence can count on his or her support system. Both Smith and Donovan initially stayed in transitional housing. Fearing she would take up city resources for someone else, Leah Faria moved home instead after her release despite a strained relationship with her mother. She said her surroundings made re-entry significantly more difficult.
Still, Faria found work within a month of coming home, earning more than enough to make rent for the apartments she applied to. But landlords still didn’t respond—like Donovan, a connection at work ultimately landed her in permanent housing. And while men overwhelmingly make up the number of New Yorkers arrested in the city each year, justice-impacted women face specific, gendered concerns when they come home.
“When you’re trying to get re-acclimated, [there’s] other obstacles, like [to] obtain your vital documents, find employment, take care [of] your medical issues, not to mention, if you’re a mother, you’re trying to regain custody of your kids, you need housing,” said Faria. “You need that…safe space, especially me being a survivor of domestic violence. Coming out, you’re still vulnerable, you need to have that safe space to lay your head at night.”
But passing Fair Chance for Housing isn’t the finish line. Smith says it’s difficult for justice-impacted Black and brown New Yorkers to seek second chances when they’re often never afforded a first chance. For now, she’s hoping they’ll get a chance to restart.
“The majority of formerly incarcerated individuals work harder than the average person, because we know that it’s going to be pushed back,” said Smith. “And if we mess up, then Peter is going to pay for Paul, everybody’s going to be subject to the backlash from it.
“We are looking for housing [and] that we can be independent. We did our time. We paid our dues. We’re out here, we’re being productive citizens, we’re working, we’re paying taxes, we’re paying our bills and we’re not thinking about doing anything wrong. We want a safer society, too.”
Tandy Lau is a Report for America corps member and writes about public safety for the Amsterdam News. Your donation to match our RFA grant helps keep him writing stories like this one; please consider making a tax-deductible gift of any amount today by visiting: https://bit.ly/amnews1