With Memorial Day upon us, Vineyard temperatures have been hitting summertime levels in recent days, and the whole Island seems to be swinging into what is anticipated to be another busy summer; that means many Islanders are performing a familiar dance step: the Island shuffle.
We all know this one, where someone is forced to temporarily shuffle out of their home while they or their landlord lean in to make ends meet by renting during the lucrative summer rental market.
It’s not easy on those who have to pull up stakes, and the root cause here is the lack of affordable housing. That’s no secret on the Island, and there is a growing consensus that we have to do more to solve that problem.
More than half of all housing units on the Island sit empty during the winter, and houses have become astronomically expensive over the years, with housing at a median of more than $1.5 million. And in a continuously evolving housing dynamic, a legislative tool that can bolster Vineyard efforts to fight the housing crisis still sits in committee at Beacon Hill: the transfer fee.
It’s an idea that has widespread support as a way to help local families stay on the Island. Local leaders, housing advocates, and six town meetings have continually backed the legislation to establish the fee, which would allow the Island to have a dedicated Martha’s Vineyard Housing Bank.
The transfer fee as proposed for the Island is a one-time 2 percent fee on property sales of more than $1 million. The money would be managed through a newly developed housing bank, and the funding would be funneled toward affordable housing initiatives across the Island, and even purchase deed restrictions to preserve units for year-round tenants.
A recent report conducted by the UMass Donahue Institute, a public-service research arm of the University of Massachusetts, at the request of the Martha’s Vineyard Commission, found that there would be little downside, and that the fee would offer a tool to bolster the local housing market and economy. This approach is particularly needed in a community like the Island’s that relies on seasonal tourism.
This is a critical initiative that we feel the Island needs, and it has been made clearer with a recent string of events that have brought up issues about the resources available to us. Last month, the massive 116-unit Green Villa project was approved by the commission. While it still needs some permitting from Oak Bluffs, its size and location, right next to the 60-unit Tackenash Knoll under construction, raised questions for Islanders. How much room does the Island truly have for new housing projects? Is there enough accessible water for the Vineyard if buildouts continue? How much of the Island’s character will be sacrificed?
Not only that, an April ruling by the state Housing Appeals Committee deemed the Martha’s Vineyard Commission a “local board,” a categorization that essentially pushes out the commission from making major decisions on projects proposed under a state housing statute — called Chapter 40B — which allows developers to curb some local zoning if at least a quarter of units are affordable. The MVC, which has acted as a guardrail for decades from overdevelopment on the Island, has appealed the decision and is awaiting an answer.
These housing cases have highlighted a phrase Vineyard planning regulators have repeatedly stated over the years regarding the Island’s housing crisis: “We can’t build ourselves out of this.”
Vineyard towns are bracing to launch ambitious housing construction plans, which follow a roadmap so at least 10 percent of community housing stocks are affordable. So far, only Aquinnah meets that threshold. So, the housing bank can be an important part of this process of ensuring there is affordable housing for all. More houses that were previously inaccessible will gradually become available to Islanders, a vital part of keeping talented year-round teachers, tradespeople, and first responders on the Vineyard.
We believe that is a dance floor that will serve the whole Island, and do so without stepping on toes or forcing some of us to have to trudge through that forced march known as the Island shuffle.