无码视频

鈥淗ome sweet home鈥� is not quite so simple in the time of polycrisis鈥攅conomic, political, environmental. Far from the white-picket-fence propaganda of earlier eras, we must reimagine how we live and whom we live among, embracing the wisdom of limitations and sustainability, interdependence and multigenerational thriving, proximity and tenderness. It鈥檚 time we met this precarious moment with the housing that honors it, so we can live the lives of care, dignity, and beauty that we all deserve.

The Democrats seemed to get this. From the moment vice presidential candidate Tim Walz stepped into the public spotlight, he centered the importance of policies that honor care. It was a refreshing twist to hear from a man with the trappings of traditional masculinity鈥攆ootball, guns, and camo鈥攚ho really gets why to a thriving country.

And, of course, his running mate, Vice President Kamala Harris, put housing at the center of , which included detailed plans to spur new construction and reduce costs for renters and homebuyers, largely through tax incentives. 鈥淲e will end America鈥檚 housing shortage,鈥� she promised point-blank in . She also spoke widely and enthusiastically about her intention to create a Medicare at Home benefit, which would have unlocked billions of federal dollars for in-home health aides and other indispensable sources of care for our elders.

By contrast, the Republican agenda, which is now confirmed to be outlined in tome, will not only privatize Medicare and defund Medicaid鈥攃rucial care support for elders鈥攂ut also intends to eradicate the Department of Education, gut the Department of Housing and Urban Development, and retreat from fair lending policies and other recent reforms within the real estate industry intended to cut down on racial discrimination.

It鈥檚 easy to be discouraged, and even downright fearful, of these shifts; for some of us, they are life-threatening. But we can鈥檛 let our fear keep us from dreaming about a longer-term shift that would honor the universal labor of care in all of our lives. For too long, we have thought about housing and care in separate circles, when in fact, they are overlapping spheres. Where and how we live鈥攖he structures of our homes, the density of our neighborhoods, the division of public and private spaces鈥攊nfluences everything about how we show up for one another in times of need.

Despite the narrative being put forward by conservative forces right now鈥攏amely, that all care needs can be met by unpaid labor within nuclear families鈥攖he reality is far more complex. We start as largely helpless little beings, needing round-the-clock care, and while we don鈥檛 like to think about it, we sometimes end life like that, too. In between, there is illness (acute and chronic), disability (which is also inevitable, though many of us struggle to acknowledge that reality until we鈥檙e forced to reckon with it personally), and the run-of-the-mill cooking, cleaning, nurturing, calendaring, wiping of butts, listening over tea, processing of feelings, and so much more along the way.

All of this鈥�all of it鈥攈appens under the roof of a home鈥攕omething too many in this country still struggle to access and hold on to. How we care for our people, how we share the care labor, who we even define as our people, is drawn into the subtext of every blueprint and regional planning drawing. Historically, women of color have borne the brunt of caregiving in this country, often invisibilized and underpaid鈥攁 fact powerfully surfaced by the dignifying and their allies in recent years. Most of the time, the dynamism between our built environment and our care labor is still largely unintentional. But among a growing number of wise and thoughtful advocates, it is becoming the text, not the subtext. 

Take Washington-based Frolic Communities, an innovative new response to the issue of gentrification. Frolic works with single-family homeowners to co-develop multifamily housing on their properties, which they live in, alongside their children, and other friends and community members. Homes in these projects鈥攗nlike so many cooperative models鈥攃an be purchased with low down payments and are affordable to middle-income families, and importantly, are designed with care in mind. Multiple generations can live, cook, eat, play, and support one another through the typical struggles of daily life. 无码视频 and more to create more density. Co-founder Josh Morrison believes, as he told me, that the 鈥減rocess can be more graceful and kind鈥� by utilizing new financing models and care-conscious design. under its belt already, one of which is fully built and thriving.

But, of course, dealing with zoning, financing, and creating functional communities is a heavy and sometimes burdensome lift. Another example of innovation at the intersection of care and housing is the ADU, or accessory dwelling unit. An ADU is a secondary housing unit on a single-family residential lot, sometimes called a 鈥済ranny flat.鈥� California, where so far, is on the cutting edge of this remarkably flexible and widely accessible solution, and many other states are modeling their approach on what鈥檚 happening there.

Casita Coalition, a California-based nonprofit, is teaching other states how to get the right reforms in place to unlock this decidedly middle-income solution to create room for adult children to care for their aging parents, grandparents to care for their grandchildren, and so many more creative combinations. The magic of ADUs is that they offer both privacy and proximity, and often at the right price.

There are so many big questions for us to be asking right now at the intersection of care and housing: What if we had real, scalable examples of housing that honored the centrality of care all over the country? We can鈥檛 build what we can鈥檛 see; so many people in this country are hungry for more care-conscious housing options, like , but they have never been to Denmark to check one out.

What if we reimagine the financing structures to help people of all different economic classes access care-focused housing? This could look any number of ways: from updating appraisal practices to finding entirely new sources of housing financing from the health care sector. Housing, after all, has a profound impact on the health and wellness of people.

What if zoning policy followed the logic not of the market alone, but also the logic of love? This could look like the loosening of single-family zoning, minimum lot size, and/or parking requirements in order to make way for more affordable, dense, and multigenerational lots. We can鈥檛 be creative about how we live and how we care when there is so much red tape obscuring our imaginations.

What if politicians didn鈥檛 just talk a big game during election season but became obsessive about governance that actually met people where they are? So many people are trying to afford homes and meet a wide variety of needs for their families (of all shapes), communities, and futures. What if government housing policy supported these myriad family configurations across a lifespan, with a combination of vulnerabilities and loving commitments to care?

What if we, the people, started to apply this mindset鈥攖hat care and housing are intertwined鈥攖o our own lives, choosing not to wait on the powers that be to catch up to our vision of a more caring future? What if we reached out to neighbors and audited their care needs and capacities, created ad-hoc cohousing by tearing down fences, and created more communal rituals鈥攕hared meals, cooperative childcare, and other mutual aid interventions鈥攊n our communities?  

Sometimes a problem is actually best solved when we understand that it鈥檚 not one problem but multiple problems intertwined. That is the case with care and housing in this country right now, which is so desperate for new systems and structures that reflect our deep and challenged commitment to our families, both by blood and choice. We will keep fighting for policies that reflect our intersectional values, and in the meantime, we will live into them in creative, communal ways.