My name is Felix Jordan, and I recently left the Boston area. 

I’m actually a statistic, in that way. In an article published by WBUR in March, it was estimated that about one in four young people are planning to leave the Greater Boston area in the next five years. This is despite the fact that around 90% of respondents said they were satisfied with their life here. 

Why? It’s simple— it costs too much to live there. 

I’ve always maintained that I was one of the lucky ones. I am able-bodied (at least, for now), so I didn’t have any access needs in the apartment search outside of needing close proximity to transit. I started working my post-grad job in February of my senior year, and was able to save the thousands of dollars it would take to move into an apartment after graduation. I was able to live with dear friends. 

But even with all my luck, the raw numbers aren’t pretty. 

My roommates and I spent $14,000 collectively to secure our Somerville apartment. The money was split between first and last months’ rent, the security deposit, and a broker’s fee. If any of us lived on fixed incomes or even made five thousand dollars less annually, this would have been an impossible task. And even with all that money upfront, we still needed a co-signer. 

In addition to the financial burden, the apartment is inaccessible— it has stairs to get in. My own mother couldn’t come in when I first moved in,  because she has an old injury that makes steep, narrow stairs virtually impossible. I paid about $1031 to live with three other people (who fortunately, I get along with), and considering the apartment’s proximity to public transit and the city, it’s considered a steal. 

While working at an independent living center didn’t exactly make me Warren Buffet (or even Jimmy Buffet), I have been able to get by just fine. I have been able to pay my rent on time, feed myself, and even go out on occasion. I lived paycheck to paycheck, but it was certainly a living, and for that, I’m grateful. 

While I am grateful for the life I was able to live, it wasn’t sustainable by any means, and I knew there was going to be a time where I’d no longer be able to keep up. Mostly stagnant wages and constantly rising cost of living meant that something was going to have to change. 

So I moved back to my hometown of Nashville, TN, hoping I can find a new job and a new place to call my own from there. Like so many others in their 20s and 30s, I’m moving home and hoping for the best. It would have likely cost me thousands of dollars to move blocks away, and I certainly can’t live on my own in the Boston area on an organizer’s salary. So I left. 

I’m giving up a lot. My friends, almost-decent travel, the freedom to live a happy queer life the same way I did in Boston. I’m postponing my transition while I live with my (not queer-friendly) family. But I’m also getting the chance to start over. 

Again— I’m one of the lucky ones. 

What about those who don’t have a home? (According to this article by WGBH, the number of people experiencing homelessness rose another 17.2% last year.) What about those who had one, but can no longer access it due to acquired disabilities or injury? What about those who can’t find a home they can access and afford? What about those whose only option for home is expensive, and only getting more expensive by the day? What about those who don’t have a safe family home to go back to? What about those on low and/or fixed incomes, who, even if they can afford rent, can’t afford the thousands of dollars of moving fees the average renter encounters in the Greater Boston area? What about those who have not been lucky?

So what needs to change? 

A large part of my work at the Boston Center for Independent Living (BCIL) has been around housing vouchers, but there are not enough vouchers for everyone who can’t afford rent here. Programs like the Alternative Housing Voucher Program and the Massachusetts Rental Voucher Program definitely help, but that’s not enough. We need rent stabilization, decreased rents, no more broker’s fees, increased tenant protection, and anti-discrimination protections— the list goes on and on. But we need change, and we need it now.

I once attended a disability conference where a disabled Bostonian earnestly asked about her options for affordable, accessible housing. A panelist smugly responded, “Leave Boston.”  While that was an option for me, a transplant with family and supports elsewhere, this young woman had been born and raised in the area, and simply wanted to be able to continue to see her family, her support system, and continue to be a part of that community. Housing that is actually affordable (what many who work in housing would call “deeply” affordable) is needed, and needed now. Our only answer can’t be telling people to just leave— take it from someone who did just that.