NOT GOOD IN THIS HOOD Through the early ?80s, abominable Mission Hill tenements were sometimes deprived of heat, water, and even windows.
Oftentimes, inner-city dwellers who have to routinely phone police about disorderly neighbors fear retribution from gangbangers or drug dealers. That is not the case in Mission Hill, where folks who anonymously told the Phoenix about loud parties and constant intoxicated pandemonium there are instead scared that Northeastern students ? whose keggers and illegal porch barbecues often rage until four in the morning ? will smash bottles in their back yards and rearrange the side-view mirrors on their cars.
In fact, the incursion by Northeastern students into Mission Hill, the South End, and Roxbury is changing the face of those neighborhoods, and not just via the superficial evidence of broken glass, fire hazards, and mangled property that students leave in their wake. Multi-generational Bostonians are actually being displaced in alarming numbers, as their neighborhoods increasingly become extensions of the institutions that surround them, and as those colleges and universities continue to rapidly expand their campus footprints and inadvertently drive up real-estate prices.
Among the concrete harbingers of change that have particularly riled activists are: 52 existing affordable-housing units near the Mass Ave T station, which Northeastern now owns and can legally inhabit in 2023; that school's magnificent Fenway concert hall that is the former site of the dearly missed St. Ann's community church; and massive Northeastern facilities hovering above Columbus and Huntington avenues.
Adding fuel to the town-versus-gown fire, Northeastern's 10-year Institutional Master Plan (IMP) is approaching its July 13 expiration date. That strategy, initially set in 2000 and finalized in the mid 2000s, was a then-heralded compromise that smoothed the ruffled feathers of locals and university officials after much heated deliberation. The crux of the plan would have moved more than 1800 off-campus students into dormitories by 2012. But Northeastern recently reneged on that deal. Citing economic hardship, the school suspended its IMP this past year and stalled major development indefinitely. Now, with nearly half of Northeastern's 15,000-student population still off-campus and the school offering no plan to absorb those numbers any time soon, an army of residents, marching with state and city politicians, are once again waging war to restrain Goliath.
"Northeastern," says one South End activist, echoing his equally agitated peers in surrounding communities, "has no credibility left around here. What they're doing is the equivalent of death by incrementalism, and we're not going to take it anymore."
Mission Hill Impossible
In the 1970s, Mission Hill was Boston's valley of ashes. Overgrown vacant lots and charred homes marred the landscape; abominable project tenements were sometimes deprived of heat, water, and even windows. Back then, Northeastern was a commuter school on the border of a community in shambles, its reach ? and outreach ? hardly stretching more than a few blocks off either side of Huntington Avenue. What is now Dodge Hall was an open field; the current site of Northeastern's sports complex was a parking lot.
Around that time, such community organizations as Mission Hill Neighborhood Housing Services (MHNHS) formed to spearhead projects that significantly improved infrastructure. Local groups have since been remarkably successful in those missions, securing affordable rentals and home ownership resources for thousands of long-term residents, and also playing instrumental roles in such retail-revitalization projects as the $48 million pavilion at One Brigham Circle.
The current disagreement between Northeastern brass and local residents reflects a jarring tug-of-war that accelerated in the late 1980s, when the university, following the precedent of the neighboring Wentworth Institute of Technology, began transitioning away from commuter-campus confines and, activists charge, suddenly became interested in community expansion. Northeastern did not have adequate facilities to match its ambition, though, and before long thousands of undergraduates were renting nearby apartments. To many observers, a 1985 increase in the nationwide minimum drinking age from 18 to 21 worsened the situation, as students were blocked from the bars, and Animal House mayhem spilled into the streets.
As more recent history goes, the direct roots of the current stalemate stem back to the Davenport Commons combined student-and-affordable-housing venture on Columbus Avenue in Lower Roxbury. First proposed in 1996 and completed five years later, the $40 million Northeastern effort was built to include 595 student units and 60 condos for first-time homebuyers from the neighborhood. Though Davenport was facilitated by the well-respected Madison Park Development Corporation, which pushed Northeastern to scale back from its initial 800-student-unit proposal, community members by and large still viewed it as an unfair agreement that would take more away from the neighborhood than it would give back.
Broken promises
A recent "community conversation" between local residents and representatives of Northeastern evidenced the hostility between the warring factions. The meeting, held at People's Baptist Church on Tremont Street on May 27, was the third such roundtable of university, political, and residential interests in recent weeks, and tempers were short. District 7 City Councilor Chuck Turner, who was leading a 50-plus-and-growing posse of perturbed locals, seemed visibly aggravated, but waited politely for Northeastern representatives to wrap their opening comments. Emotions began to fly, though, at the 45-minute mark.
"I find myself in a very difficult situation," said Turner, who served as the first director of Northeastern's Afro-American Institute in the early 1970s. Like others in attendance, Turner was angered by the school's request that the Boston Redevelopment Authority (BRA) extend its IMP, and wanted assurance that low-income residents in Northeastern-owned units will not be moved. Added former Boston City Council president Bruce Bolling, who is skeptical of Northeastern's bid: "Don't make us out to be the bad guys. These people have given a lot to Northeastern already."
If there is middle ground here, few are willing to acknowledge it. To many, this latest economy-related breach of the IMP is just another broken promise. In 2000, the very same year that Northeastern submitted its soon-to-expire plan, administrators over-enrolled the school's freshman class by nearly 600, effectively breaking a pledge to contain the student population. Ten years later, approximately 6600 undergraduates from Northeastern live off-campus; low-income tenants have been priced out of apartments that now fetch monthly rents of $1000 per room; long-time homeowners have seen their property taxes skyrocket due to real-estate values that are inflated as a direct result of student demand.
"I understand this frustration," City Council President and Mission Hill resident Mike Ross tells the Phoenix. "It's a sense of hopelessness among residents who were wishing to turn their neighborhood around."
At the South End meeting and in interviews, Northeastern delegates speak of a variety of temporary housing solutions that they wish to employ until they can afford to build new dormitories. They are also actively pursuing better ways to crack down on off-campus horseplay. But whether or not the BRA board approves an extension of the IMP ? a Band-Aid that would change very little ? the relationship between Northeastern and its neighbors appears to be irreconcilably strained, and will only unravel further as more kegs get tapped and side-view mirrors get buckled.
"While discussions with our neighbors can get spirited at times, we share the same long-term goals," writes Northeastern Senior Vice-President for External Affairs Michael Armini in an e-mail to the Phoenix. "We need to continue working together."
"I find this to be an abandonment of all the work we did for years," counters one Mission Hill activist. "It's disingenuous ? the [Northeastern] leadership that is out in front has not made any real effort to come up with solutions."
Chris Faraone can be reached at
cfaraone@phx.com.