Pandemic precarity and everyday disparity: gendered housing needs in North America

ABSTRACT

We identify key issues for housing researchers, practitioners, and advocates working in the United States and Canada to consider, both during the COVID-19 pandemic and far beyond. First, we draw upon feminist and intersectional literatures on gendered inequalities and social structures, which provide the often forgotten or overlooked context for women’s experiences in housing. This includes the broader insight that too frequently, women have not been involved in shaping the policy and planning climate around housing, even as they disproportionately are affected by them. Second, we describe women’s housing-related precarity and some of its implications, grounding this research in a political economic critique of the way that housing and resources are allocated and the neoliberal climate that values profit over people and that has induced instability for many women in so many communities. We conclude by offering examples of organizations and initiatives that work to address the disparities identified herein. Throughout the paper, we emphasize the need for intersectional and interdisciplinary collaborations (for example, among queer, anti-racist, feminist, political economic, and other scholars) that engage with complexity and orient toward equity and justice.

KEYWORDS:

• Housing
• Gender
• Women
• Precarity
• Covid-19

Introduction

As both the current moment and our years as feminist scholar-practitioners are laying bare, tremendous precarity and inequality exist in housing. This precarity is dramatically exposed by the COVID-19 pandemic, but rooted in decades of neoliberal and colonial policies that have privileged and heightened housing as an asset for exchange rather than a necessity or right for survival (Madden & Marcuse, 2016; Soederberg, 2018; Stein, 2018). And the burdens of housing precarity are not evenly shared. While still a whisper in mainstream academic circles, feminists have been shouting for quite some time about the ways that gender relations shape vulnerabilities around shelter and survival. Given the persistent and pandemic need, (re) invigorated feminist energies in North America, global attention on housing, along with growing conversations and debate about what a post-pandemic future might look like for all, we argue that this approach is needed now. In doing so, we revive voices of long-time feminist housing activists and scholars, and also re-center feminist intersectional critical praxis to question how we value and appropriate the labors, the security, and the material structures surrounding housing in North America.

Our approach foregrounds gender, noting that Indigenous, migrant, disabled, Black, LGBTQ2s+ and other women face especially profound and compounded inequalities. Below, we highlight some key issues for housing practitioners, advocates and researchers working in the United States and Canada to consider, both during this pandemic but also far beyond. First, we draw upon feminist and intersectional literatures on gendered inequalities and social structures, and how these are exacerbated by the pandemic, which provide the often forgotten or overlooked context for women’s experiences in housing. This includes the broader insight that too frequently, women have not been involved in shaping the policy and planning climate around housing, even as they disproportionately are affected by such policies. Second, we describe women’s housing-related precarity and some of its implications, grounding this research in a political economic critique of the way that housing and resources are allocated and the neoliberal climate that values profit over people and has induced instability for many women in so many communities. Throughout the paper, we emphasize the need for intersectional and interdisciplinary collaborations (for example, among queer, anti-racist, feminist, political economic, and other scholars) that engage with complexity and orient toward equity and justice. Finally, we conclude by offering examples of policies, organizations and initiatives that work to challenge and address the disparities identified herein.

Uneven lives: gendered vulnerabilities

There are significant gendered dimensions of social life in North America that position women in vulnerable and unequal positions and ultimately intensify their housing needs and shelter experiences: their caregiving responsibilities, the lower wages and wealth they attain, their exposure to violence, the mental health challenges they face and their lack of representation in decision-making. These vulnerabilities are both deeply related to each other as well as amplified for particular groups of women, including but not limited to women of color, immigrants and refugees, women with disabilities, Indigenous women and transgender women. Firmly entrenched, these vulnerabilities have been magnified, and have intensified, during the pandemic (see table 1).

Table 1. Summary of disparities, effects on housing and amplified pandemic precarity

Everyday Intersectional Disparities	Effects on Housing	Amplified Pandemic Precarity
Women do the vast majority of caregiving for children, sick or elderly family members, and in community. The vast majority of single-parent households in Canada and U.S are headed by women, and most are lower-income.	Women-headed households are less likely to be homeowners and more likely to live in lower quality and/or crowded rental housing. They also require larger units and access to childcare, schools, and other important services. Due to insufficient childcare supports, women take lower-earning jobs, further limiting housing options based on income and location needs. Especially because of children, lack of safety and security in housing/neighborhoods, crowding, and poor housing quality are major sources of stress for women.	School and daycare closures have intensified caregiving burdens for women. Caring for COVID-positive family or community members is a responsibility often shouldered by women.Potential pandemic evictions could affect schooling and childcare options and access to place-based networks. Pandemic stress affecting women/caregivers can lead to job loss, missed work, mental health and other problems. “Doubled-up” households with multiple children and no school or childcare generates tremendous stress and conflict for parents and children.
Women (especially BIPOC and trans) earn less due to discrimination, concentration in low-paid industries, and as workers in part-time and flexible jobs “chosen” at times to balance caregiving and paid labor. Women-headed households are very likely to be poor, and over time significant gender and race wealth gaps persist.	Women with children have fewer quality housing choices, and spend a higher proportion of their income on rental housing. Public assistance is insufficient. In housing searches, women with children (especially BIPOC) risk discrimination and/or violence and manipulation by landlords. If and when evicted, there are long-term financial, health, criminal justice and emotional consequences for women and children.	Increased caregiving responsibilities mean that many women have cut hours or left the workforce, leaving them vulnerable tofinancial and housing insecurity.. Budget cuts in local and state governments and significant employment losses in service-related sectors have affected employment options for women.
Women (especially those with disabilities, trans, and Indigenous women) are much more likely to experience violence in households, from intimate partners (IPV), as well as harassment in workplaces. Community or neighborhood violence is also a major concern. Shelters and services for IPV victims are at times insufficient and/or not culturally or gender supportive.	IPV is a major reason that women lose housing, and circularly, lack of alternative housing options cause women to stay in abusive relationships. Stigma against survivors of IPV prevents them from gaining housing and may cause them to lose it. Housing displacement can isolate survivors from resources or the support needed to escape abusers. Property owners/managers may discriminate or perpetuate their own violence against poor women.	Survivors are forced to spend more time with abusers during shelter-at-home orders. Some services and shelters–already insufficient–have declined or closed. Household and community violence are often exacerbated during crises, including the global pandemic.
Poor women (especially BIPOC) rely disproportionately on informal networks of support and require local services and amenities, especially for caregiving, but also for health, well-being and economic support.	Services are often unevenly distributed and many lower income women live in neighborhoods without sufficient services. Displacement (via gentrification, public housing dis-investment, and eviction) negatively affect women’s local networks, often leaving them and their children more vulnerable.	Due to COVID-closures and shelter-in-place orders, women have limited access to social services and increased isolation from informal networks. Informal support networks are overextended as so many people are affected by COVID-19 and related health and financial problems (with Indigenous, Latinx, and Black communities significantly affected). High rates of impending evictions during the pandemic will likely affect women’s place-based networks.
Health and well-being are gendered in ways not fully understood. Women and caregivers have higher rates of depression, anxiety and PTSD. Racism, colonialism, poverty, gender-based violence and related traumas contribute to health difficulties especially for women of color.	Factors such as IPV, caregiving, poverty and low wages contribute to poor mental and physical health. Health crises (physical and/or mental) for themselves or their children can cause women to lose their housing. Circularly, eviction, homelessness, living in crowded, violent, or poor-quality housing lead to poor health and stress.	Those who rely most on social networks for support are most at risk for contracting COVID-19. Crowded and unstable housing can also lead to increased risk for COVID-19, as families move from one shelter to another. Families that are doubled up due to housing precarity experience considerable stress. Closed schools and daycare and the need to help multiple children with learning needs can amplify this stress, with neimplications for health, well-being and support networks.
Women and other marginalized populations are vastly under-represented in leadership and governance positions.	Even as women need housing assistance and services the most, and are affected by housing and development decisions, they have little say in them. Diverse perspectives and “lived” experience are not brought into housing policies and budget allocations. Women, Indigenous people, and people of color lack input in management and design of housing and services, which are often inadequate and/or culturally inappropriate. Those who benefit from uneven policy or management arrangements (property owners and developers for example) may have the most say in them.	Many burdens of the COVID-19 crisis have been largely borne by women even as men have been making critical decisions about policy, relief packages, and more. Women are disproportionately employed in city and state government, including leadership positions. These jobs may be atrisk due to budget constraints during the pandemic.

Triple burdens of care: unpaid, paid, and community labors

As has been made especially clear amid the COVID-19 pandemic, women conduct the majority of caring labors in both households and communities (Stanfors et al., 2019). Even as data suggest that men are increasing their household contributions, women in heterosexual households bear greater responsibilities for education, feeding and caring of their children (Bianchi et al., 2012; MacPhail, 2017), even when both parents conduct paid work and when women out earn their spouses (Treas & Drobnič, 2010; Treas & Tai, 2016). The COVD-19 pandemic has exacerbated these responsibilities significantly and visibly by shuttering schools and child care centers (Patrick et al., 2020), and transferring the responsibilities for education and child development disproportionately on women’s shoulders regardless of employment status (Zamarro & Prados, 2021).

In single-headed households, women are far more likely to assume child rearing responsibilities (Lu et al., 2020), resulting, for example, in fifteen million children who are raised by women in the United States alone (Livingston, 2018). And the responsibility for caregiving is not just about parenthood – women are more likely to care for sick or elderly relatives (Stanfors et al., 2019), often while raising their children (Stokes & Patterson, 2020). In communities devastated by incarceration, instability, and violence, women become “other mothers,” caring for children whose parents are no longer able to do so or who have died or disappeared (Collins, 2005). Informally or as staff in nonprofit organizations, women are also on the front lines, providing care, time, and labor for the benefit of communities (Nagar et al., 2002; Wang et al., 2017).

Lower wages and less wealth

Directly related to their labors, women have lower incomes than men, and are more likely to be poor. Overall, lone mothers and elderly women are most vulnerable to poverty, as are Black, Indigenous, and women of color, immigrants and refugees, and women with disabilities (Fins, 2019; Government of Canada, 2016; McCracken & Watson, 2004). Gendered income disparities are a result of discrimination, structural inequalities, violence, and colonial policies and practices. For several reasons, women earn lower wages and are entitled to fewer job-related benefits. They are more likely to be concentrated in undervalued and underpaid jobs, including child care and social service provision. Because of a lack of supports for child and elder care, women are also more likely to take lower wage jobs near their homes, work shorter or flexible hours, and interrupt employment by taking leave to care for others, including during the pandemic (Y. Lee et al., 2015; Moyser, 2017; Petts et al., 2020; Zamarro & Prados, 2021). As recent months have shown, they also hold up households, communities, and economies during times of crisis. For particular women, gender, racist, and colonial practices collectively stymie their earnings livelihoods. For example, the National Inquiry into Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls (MMIWG) highlight colonial policies which have created reliances on male breadwinners and which have uprooted traditional livelihoods (National Inquiry into Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls, 2019a &, 2019b). Furthermore, women who are victims of intimate partner violence often experience financial abuse and/or lose significant wealth at the hands of, or while leaving, their abusers (Sullivan & Olsen, 2016; Wachter et al., 2019).

These inequalities add up to both gendered and raced earning gaps (even among full time workers), and startling differences in incomes based on (binary) gender. Recent reports on wage disparities show a gender gap of thirteen cents per hour for work conducted in Canada (Pelletier et al., 2019) and approximately eighteen cents in the United States (Institute for Women’s Policy Research, 2020), with wage gaps dramatically higher for Black and Hispanic women in the United States (Institute for Women’s Policy Research, 2020) and among refugees (Minor & Cameo, 2018). Importantly, these gaps only account for full-time wage earners, when in fact women are much more likely to be part-time and contingent workers, resulting in far greater income and wealth discrepancies. Census data from Canada and the U.S. reveal startling differences in incomes based on (binary) gender: in Canada, median incomes are 53,800 USD for single women versus 81,700 USD for single men, and 36,600 USD for female-headed households versus 45,300 USD for ones headed by males (Fox & Moyser, 2018). In the United States, similarly large discrepancies occur, with 24% of female-headed families falling in the “crisis” category of household income versus 7% for men (Lu et al., 2020).

Reliance on social supports

Gendered inequalities in income and caregiving responsibilities, combined with insufficient public safety nets and effects of living in poor neighborhoods, mean that support networks are at the center of many poor women’s survival (Reid, 2013; see also Hynie et al., 2011). A large body of research shows that many poor mothers form supportive communities in place by providing emotional and material resources to one another (Hynie et al., 2011; Mistry et al., 2008; Reid & Reczek, 2011; Taylor & Conger, 2017). In fact, informal social support is one of few options many of these women have to meet basic needs (Radey, 2018). Reid (2013) argues that community may be especially important to low-income families and neighborhoods of color. She notes that African American and Mexican American communities, for example, have cultural histories of women-centered social networks that have material and emotional benefits for people who experience chronic racism and poverty (Chatters et al., 1994; Johnson & Staples, 2005; Taylor et al., 2016). Research on immigrants and refugees from both countries documents the vital role of women’s informal networks in providing assistance with child care and access to community services (Hynie et al., 2011). This informal support has a positive, if sometimes small, effect on psychological distress, economic hardship, parenting practices and child outcomes (Radey, 2018). During the pandemic, reliance on such networks has been impacted through shelter-in-place orders, the consequences of which are not yet reported.

Violence against women

Especially worrisome amid COVID-19, women are more likely to be victims of violence than men (Breiding et al., 2014). Perpetrators of violence are most commonly intimate partner or family members (Sinha, 2013). Risks of family violence increase during periods of disaster, significant distress and upheaval, to include the current pandemic when shelter-at-home orders compel women to spend more time with abusers and many social services have shuttered (Peterman et al., 2020; Woman Abuse Council of Toronto, 2020; Women and Gender Equality Canada, 2020). Police data from four American regions indeed show increases in cases of intimate partner violence in the early weeks following the March, 2020 lockdown, ranging from ten to 27% (Boserup et al., 2020), with large increases reported in both incidents of such violence as well as calls to crisis supports in Canadian communities as well (Bradley et al., 2020). Intimate partner violence is not the only form of violence to which women and girls are subjected, and intersectionalities matter (Abraham & Tastsoglou, 2016): an alarming and disproportionate number of Indigenous women, girls and 2SLGBTQQIA people have disappeared and been murdered over many decades, killed by family members, partners and through “stranger violence.” (National Inquiry into Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls, 2019a, p. 55). They are also more likely to be victims of sexual assault and trafficking (National Inquiry into Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls, 2019a). Women with disabilities also have a higher likelihood of experiencing sexual violence than those without (Basile et al., 2016; Cotter, 2018) as do transwomen, women of color, and those living in neighborhoods with concentrated poverty and high crime (Goetz & Chapple, 2010; Richie, 2012; Ritchie, 2017; Roschelle, 2017). Immigrant and refugee women experience physical, sexual and psychological violence, often exacerbated by lack of social connections, language limitations, lack of participation in the labor market and knowledge of local services (Godoy-Ruiz et al., 2015; Guruge et al., 2012; Okeke-Ihejirika et al., 2018). Colonial violence is part of the lives of Indigenous women, girls and 2SLGBTQQIA people, “perpetuated through a variety of different strategies, including depriving people of the necessities of life, using public institutions and laws to reassert colonial norms, ignoring the knowledge and capacity of Indigenous Peoples, and using constructs that deny the ongoing presence and dignity of Indigenous Peoples. It is also linked to racism.” (National Inquiry into Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls, 2019a, p. 76)

Mental health and well-being

Related to inequalities in caregiving, wealth, and violence exposure is the reality of gendered differences in experiences of mental and physical health and well-being. These differences are complex, weighty and still not understood. However, women have much higher rates of anxiety disorders and depression and are more likely to be diagnosed with PTSD than men (Somers et al., 2006). Family caregivers, most commonly women, are more likely to report poor to fair health and to experience chronic health conditions than their non-caregiver counterparts and low-income mothers, and in particular report high levels of stress related to caregiving. During the pandemic, American women with school-age children are reported to have experienced greater psychological distress compared to those without dependents, while their male counterparts do not show similar increases (Zamarro & Prados, 2021), while Canadian research shows that women were more likely to report stressors related to their ability to care for friends and family and the impact of the pandemic on their children (Jenkins et al., 2021). Transgender women and non-binary people have higher rates of depression, anxiety, and suicide (Hanna et al., 2019; Hoffman, 2014) than the cisgender population, with again early research showing that the pandemic has had disproportionate, negative impacts on the mental health of young people who are gender diverse or transgender (Hawke et al., 2021). Black women are more likely to experience severe depression and postpartum depression than white women, likely in part due to the racial and gender discrimination they experience as individuals with multiple marginalized identities (Carr et al., 2014; Chang, 2018). Indigenous women experience significant trauma and lack of support for their health due to violence, abuse and the legacy of residential schools, settler-based definitions of what constitutes health and well-being, underfunded health services which are culturally unsafe and not located in community, and economic, cultural and social marginalization (National Inquiry into Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls, 2019a; Sakamoto et al., 2010). In addition, concepts of healing and well-being are often siloed and medicalized. As Chioneso et al. (2020) point out, “community healing” is rarely explored as an agent for improved health and wellbeing.

Representation in governance and leadership

Finally, and critically, women – especially women of color, disabled women, and Indigenous women – are vastly underrepresented in governance, decision-making, and housing and urban development. In Canada and the United States, women are mayors of approximately one-fifth of cities (18% and 21% respectively). They comprise less than one third of elected officials in regional and national government. For example, 29% of members of parliament in Canada are women and 26.5% of congrssional members are women in the United States (Center for Women in American Politics, 2021; Federation of Canadian Municipalities, 2020; Statistics Canada, 2018a). For women of color and/or who are Indigenous, these numbers are much lower (Center for Women in American Politics, 2021). Although women from various backgrounds are more likely to participate in community through volunteering and play key roles in community organizing, tenant organizing in response to threatened, mass evictions, redevelopment efforts, housing disrepair and neighborhood safety (Arena, J, 2012; Baranski, 2007; Feldman & Stall, 2004), they rarely have power over critical urban and housing development decisions. They make up a very small percentage of private sector organizations, developers, architects and others who create the spatial and social infrastructure of cities (reference withheld, 2016; Besner, 2017). While information on diversity in nonprofit sector governance is sparse, we know that about 45% of board positions are filled by women (Bradshaw & Fredette, 2013; Fredette & Sessler Bernstein, 2019; Ostrower, 2007), with lower percentages for the largest nonprofit organizations (Ostrower, 2007) and directors are predominantly white and able-bodied (Bradshaw & Fredette, 2013; Fredette & Sessler Bernstein, 2019; Ostrower, 2007). Colonialism has uprooted traditional, women-centered decision making and participation in Indigenous communities (National Inquiry into Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls, 2019c). In addition, women are rarely involved in the design of affordable and other types of housing, and substantive tenant involvement in public housing management is typically lacking (Right to the City Alliance, 2010).

Uneven lives: implications for housing

More than statistical curiosities or unfair gendered social practices, diverse women’s lives and experiences outlined above have multiple implications for housing experiences, policy, practice and research.

Reliance on rental housing for women and their families

To begin with the more physical aspects of sheltering, women-heading families are less likely to be home owners (Fox & Moyser, 2018; United States Census Bureau, 2019b) and thus disproportionately rely on rental housing: 2015 data show that 38.2% of female-headed versus 62% of male-headed families were living in a house which they or another family member owned (Fox & Moyser, 2018), while in the United States, 48.6% of female-headed households versus 56.1% of male-headed households own their own home (United States Census Bureau, 2019b). Equally obvious but not always stated, women require housing for others, not just themselves. Women with dependents typically need different (multi-bedroom) units compared to those who live alone or couples without children, but about 20% of all lone-parent renter households in Canada inhabit housing which does not meet occupancy standards based on the number and age of their dependents (Fox & Moyser, 2018; see also Jones & Teixeira, 2015). Such a figure is particularly noteworthy given that other household types (single households, couples, and couples with children) have much higher rates of housing suitability, and that this was a more pronounced problem than housing disrepair. In addition, there is a severe shortage of larger units for women with children (Ewan, 2020; Knowles et al., 2019). A recent report found that only 1% of 50,000 purpose-built rentals in the Vancouver area had 3 or more bedrooms (Knowles et al., 2019). Ewan (2020) noted that black women with children can spend years in crowded units in Toronto Community Housing while on a waiting list for a larger home. In Indigenous communities in Canada, crowding is a key and long-standing issue as well (Statistics Canada, 2017). Beyond requiring larger units, women with children need access to housing in amenity-rich and safe locations to support connections to schools and child care, and to support mental health and well-being of their dependents and themselves (Briggs et al., 2010; Jones & Teixeira, 2015; Whitzman & Desroches, 2020).

Discrimination, eviction and coercion

Women thus experience, along with their dependents, the vulnerabilities associated with relying on the marketplace for shelter, a sector which is largely unlicensed and under-regulated (Oliveri, 2018) and which aims to earn profit and in which lower-cost units are subject to gentrification and financialization (August & Walks, 2018; Madden & Marcuse, 2016; Slater, 2004), and in which vacancy rates may be low and policy makers do little to intervene (Oliveri, 2019; Slater, 2004). In addition, discrimination against women of color is not uncommon in these settings (Ewan, 2020). Studies show that women with low incomes (especially mothers and women of color) are more likely to fall behind on rent payments and thus are more vulnerable to eviction (Desmond, 2016). For women, housing insecurity and eviction are commonly the result of financial difficulties such as job loss and unemployment, often combined with health concerns such as disabilities (Desmond, 2016; Gultekin et al., 2014; McCracken & Watson, 2004). Additionally, poor women on the private rental market, and in particular women of color (Elengold, 2015; Oliveri, 2018), may face harassment and assault. Property owners use their institutional authority to exploit economically vulnerable women tenants through sexual coercion (Elengold, 2015; Reed et al., 2005; Tester, 2008) and threats of evictions, denials of tenancy or unit repair, and offers to reduce or waive rents in exchange for sex, occur (Elengold, 2015; Oliveri, 2018). National survey data on housing experiences from both countries overlooks potential, sexually exploitative practices of property owners (Statistics Canada, 2018b; United States Census Bureau, 2019a; see also Oliveri, 2018) and this phenomenon is under-researched.

Women, especially black women, also face discrimination on the private market or even in social or cooperative housing, as women of color with children are commonly declined the opportunity to rent (Desmond, 2016; Ewan, 2020; Jones & Teixeira, 2015). In addition, some studies suggest that property owners were less willing to rent to a domestic violence survivor or to women currently living in a shelter or with a friend, as many survivors tend to do upon leaving a violent relationship (Barata & Stewart, 2010). Stigma against women experiencing violence is commonly exemplified by “not in my backyard” campaigns against transition houses or by property owners who assume renting to these women will lead to property damage and violence in their neighborhoods (Knowles et al., 2019). Intersectionality matters here: immigrants, Indigenous, women of color, women with children, and those who are LGBTQ2+ report high levels of discrimination in housing searches on the private market, and are also more likely to be evicted (Addis et al., 2009; Hanley et al., 2019; Martin & Walia, 2019; Teixeira, 2006 &, 2008; Quets et al., 2016).

Housing affordability

Beyond these experiences of evictions, sexual coercion and discrimination, women are more likely to struggle with housing costs given their lower-incomes, their need for larger units and their reliance on a profit-oriented rental market. Female-headed renter households are more likely to experience core housing need in Canada compared to any other household type (Canada Mortgage and Housing Corporation [CMHC], 2016); among lone-parent renter households headed by women, 41.6% fall into this category, versus 29.7% for those headed by males and 26.8% for all renter household types combined (Canada Mortgage and Housing Corporation [CMHC], 2016). In the U.S., women who rent, and particularly women of color, are also the most likely to spend more than thirty percent of their income on housing (National Equity Atlas, 2017). Curiously, though various U.S. data sets (e.g. the American Community Survey) can be pieced together to show facets of the housing precarity and burdens that women face, data is seldom presented on gender and intersectional disparities in housing research (for exceptions, see the National Equity Atlas, 2017; Quets et al., 2016) or, when available, often lacks interpretation (Office of Policy Development and Research, U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development, 2019). Overall, public data that captures housing precarity by intersectionality (e.g. race+gender) remains underdeveloped and difficult to locate in both countries.

Given their reliance on rental housing, it makes sense that public and subsidized, nonprofit housing are critical supports for women, who are disproportionately served by them (Province of Nova Scotia, 2019; Reid, 2013). As gender and housing scholar Jacqueline Leavitt (1993) explained, “any attention to public housing is a de facto recognition of a largely woman’s world” (p. 109). In the United States, women comprise at least 2/3 of housing assistance recipients (Right to the City Alliance, 2010), with similar compositions in Canada (Province of Nova Scotia, 2019). The result is that women and other vulnerable populations are most negatively impacted when financial assistance is insufficient (Hrenchuk & Bopp, 2007) or when housing supports are negative forces for women, precipitating the removal of their children when housing is deemed unsafe, for example. Women are also negatively affected when social housing is eliminated via retrenchment and urban development, especially poor women and women of color (Curran, 2017; Ewan, 2020; Reid, 2013). As scholars have described, neoliberalism and global gentrification processes have sped up the elimination of state-managed housing, allowing public units to be eliminated in favor of mobility vouchers (Briggs et al., 2010), to fall into disrepair (Hanlon, 2012), or to be colonized by middle or upper-income households (August, 2016; Chaskin & Joseph, 2015). Overall housing assistance is often underfunded (Oliveri, 2018), which for Indigenous people has long been the case, both on and off reserve (Belanger et al., 2012). A shortage of social housing, along with simultaneous increases in poverty, have led women to become homeless in this environment (Finfgeld-Connett, 2010). Women of color, migrant women, elderly women, disabled women, and Indigenous women, in particular, are financially and socially vulnerable due to discrimination and low earnings and low savings (Hanley et al., 2019).

Amenities, services and networks

While public housing stock is a critically important piece of housing infrastructure for women, this tenure type often fails to include supportive amenities and services including child care centers, health care clinics, educational services, and recreational opportunities (Silver, 2011; Silver et al., 2015) Advocacy efforts that work to increase funding for and bolster this tenure type must include, as an objective, the embedding of new services to support tenants, as well as locating new public housing units close to services (Right to the City Alliance, 2010). Further, participatory research with Canadian public housing residents, similar to the work done by the Right to the City Alliance in the United States (), is desperately needed to better understand the experiences of women who live in such housing and what investments and changes are needed to enhance well-being (see, for example, Ewan, 2020.) Public housing in both countries also typically lacks tenant management, which would allow residents to provide continuous input and oversight into their housing and local neighborhoods, and give women and gender-diverse people who participate the opportunity to develop their skills and self-confidence (reference withheld Leviten-Reid et al., 2016; Duguid et al., 2013).

It also makes sense that in the replacement of public units with market-based housing vouchers, women again are disproportionately impacted. While these financial allowances may assist women and their families with the cost of renting in the private market, those who receive them experience a range of challenges in finding and paying for units, including a mismatch between subsidies and rental increases, landlords opting out of voucher programs due to low vacancy rates, gentrification and the draw of more lucrative or more “desirable” tenancies (Briggs et al., 2010; Greenlee, 2014; Wright et al., 2006), and a lack of programming available to help families navigate local rental markets (Collinson et al., 2019). Research on housing vouchers, in fact, has largely found that participants end up living in neighborhoods with high poverty levels (McClure et al., 2015; Metzger, 2014), not unlike the places featuring concentrations of social housing maligned by developers.

Relatedly, a thorough analysis and policy discussion of the relationships between affordable housing and social networks for women is desperately needed, both because of the emphasis on mobility vouchers and since women and children are most likely to be dislocated during urban gentrification processes (Curran, 2017). This dislocation disrupts not only housing but the social ties and relationships that are so important for those in caregiving roles (Curran, 2017; Davis, 2004; Ewan, 2020; Keene & Ruel, 2013). Mendenhall et al. (2017), for example, note that black women in Chicago use women-centered networks of care to circumvent or avoid government aid that is either undesirable, inaccessible, or stigmatized. Often the emphasis on poverty de-concentration fails to acknowledge local assets and forms of resistance such as social connections and informal social control and why they are needed (August, 2016), instead focusing on quantitative measures of neighborhood distress such as household income and unemployment (for example, McClure, 2019; Walter et al., 2017; Woo & Kim, 2016). Loss of community is likely to have especially negative consequences for poor women, who, as we describe above, rely extensively on informal social networks for survival.

Finally, we note that services and housing developments are rarely designed and delivered by women, a diverse group of leaders, and/or people with lived experience. And, as stated above, women are vastly under-represented in policy-making. These factors can result in culturally inappropriate, exclusive or inadequate services and policies that fail to reflect the experiences and needs of diverse women, including trans-individuals or Indigenous or migrant women, for example, (Sakamoto et al., 2010). We also note that female elected leaders are often more likely to address issues like child care and domestic violence and to favor investment in social welfare, and their lack of presence in leadership often translates to lower investments.

Health and well-being

The gendered dimensions of both mental health and exposure to violence as they relate to housing are also critical for practitioners and policy makers to consider. To begin with, relationships between poor mental and physical health and housing are multi-directional and under-studied. On one hand, maternal depression can increase the risk of experiencing housing instability (Corman et al., 2016; Curtis et al., Curtis et al., 2014), and poor mental health is an important predictor of homelessness among women, often mediated by other factors such as poverty and exposure to trauma and violence (Finfgeld-Connett, 2010). In addition, mental illness and depression reduces the instrumental and social support available to household heads (Harknett & Hartnett, 2011), and those lacking such support are substantially more likely to experience housing instability and homelessness (Eyrich et al., 2003; Fertig & Reingold, 2008; Lee et al. S. S. Lee et al., 2010). Research also indicates that housing instability, housing unaffordability, and poor housing conditions or neighborhoods are associated with mental health and well-being. Not surprisingly, a recent study of 388 low-income mothers shows a strong relationship between housing cost burden and higher maternal stress scores (Bills et al., 2019). Burdette et al. (2011) demonstrate that housing disrepair correlates with mental distress among the same population and similarly, Suglia et al. (2011) found an association between both housing quality (noisy and crowded homes) and housing instability and depression, and an association between housing instability and anxiety disorders. Wells and Harris (2007) studied relationships between housing quality and psychological distress among a group of low-income women relocating from inadequate to newly constructed homes, finding that improvements in psychological distress were largely due to improvement within one subcomponent of housing quality – crowding. Waldbrook (2009) also found positive health effects for women transitioning from homelessness to housing, in part because their newfound stability allowed them to access health care.

Violence

Mental health, well-being, and housing are especially critical issues for women who experience violence. Intimate partner violence is increasing dramatically as people are forced to shelter-in-place due to COVID-19 (UN Women, 2020), and the pandemic is intensifying and exposing the grossly insufficient resources and shelters available for victims of domestic violence (Maki, 2017). Knowles et al. (2019) highlights this by noting that women are being forced to trade safety for housing while also noting that violence is both a cause and result of women’s homelessness. In Canada, significant variations exist in access to shelter and support based on region of the country and a community’s population size (Schwan et al., 2020). Nationally, and on a single date in 2018, 699 women and 236 accompanying children were turned away from domestic violence shelters in Canada, with capacity cited as the most common reason (that is, by 82% of respondents) (Moreau, 2019). During this same year, such shelters were used by over 68,000 people, 99.9% of which were women and their accompanying children, and for which there was an over-representation of Indigenous and nonpermanent resident admissions (Moreau, 2019).

In addition, and as noted above, certain groups of women experience higher rates of violence and may be less likely or able to access shelter and other resources (for example, Cotter, 2018; Okeke-Ihejirika et al., 2018; National Inquiry into Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls, 2019a; Okeke-Richie, 2012). This includes LGBTQ2S youth (Abramovich, 2016; Coolhart & Brown, 2017), immigrants and refugees, Indigenous women and Indigenous, two-spirit and transgender adults and youth (Martin & Walia, 2019; Schwan et al., 2020; Vecchio, 2019). Barriers to accessing resources include a lack of shelters in Indigenous and rural communities, limited accessibility for those with disabilities, services which are not culturally safe, and harassment and failure to acknowledge LGBTQ2S identities (Abramovich, 2016; Vecchio, 2019). Lack of recognition of LGBTQ2S identity may be additionally concerning as Sakamoto et al. (2010) note that the presence of violence and trauma were “ubiquitous” (p. 6) in the lives of, trans women participating in their study.

For women who have experienced intimate partner violence, achieving stability is crucial to well-being, with safety, community, and comfort central to this (Woodhall-Melnik et al., 2017). Tutty (2009) and Tutty et al. (2009) find that the range of unique safety needs of abused women, especially those whose partners remain threats, must be the core issue when considering housing; options that would be appropriate for women with fewer safety risks might simply never be appropriate for women whose partners have been brutally violent (Tutty et al., 2009). While social housing is a critical resource for low-income women in violent relationships (Reid, 2013), housing alone is not enough.

Not surprisingly, women who are victims of domestic violence experience homelessness and challenges in keeping their housing (e.g. making late rent payments, skipping meals, being threatened with eviction) (Wachter et al., 2019). Some predictors include experiencing a greater severity of violence, contacting fewer formal systems, having less informational support, and receiving a negative response from welfare (Baker et al., 2003; Pavao et al., 2007; Sullivan & Olsen, 2016). Due to zero-tolerance and other nuisance ordinances, along with landlord bias, many landlords will evict domestic violence survivors because of the perceived or real damage their abusers inflict in the apartments they rent or because they do not want to contend with disturbances (National Law Center on Homelessness and Poverty, 2018; see also Desmond, 2016). Overall, domestic violence is a leading cause of homelessness, either directly or indirectly (Pavao et al., 2007; Sullivan & Olsen, 2016). Additionally, researchers have found that a lack of affordable housing options can make it not only more difficult for women to leave abusive relationships, but one of the reasons they seek help at shelters or stay longer there (Correia, 1999; Hammeal-Urban, 1999; Maki, 2017; Menard, 2001).

To reiterate a point above, violence against women is not contained to the household, but happens in neighborhoods and communities, some which produce a “corrosive” environment for women and girls (Briggs et al., 2010; Goetz & Chapple, 2010). Briggs and Turner (2006) found that women who moved to low-poverty neighborhoods demonstrated mental health benefits from their relocation due to increased feelings of safety and security. However, as mentioned earlier, the disruption of social networks for women who move out of neighborhoods can also be difficult for women and people of color (Reid, 2013). In sum, much more work needs to be done to understand and ensure that the safety, security, and support needs of women are met as we evaluate and implement different affordable housing measures.

Homelessness

The final theme we want to address here, which is deeply connected to the inequalities and lack of housing resources described above but is also too infrequently engaged with in the literature, relates to gender, intersectionality, and homelessness. Importantly, homelessness looks different and is less visible for women. These invisibilities, combined often with sexism, colonialism and racism in policy making, result in insufficient resources and supports for female-identifying homeless populations. In addition, pathways to homelessness are influenced by gender and other factors.

Homelessness among women is salient and chronically underestimated, in part because it is more hidden, and may look like overcrowding, couch surfing, staying in violent relationships to maintain housing or to maintain custody of one’s children, or paying high rents that make necessities like food unaffordable (e.g. Klodawsky, 2006; Maki, 2017; May et al., 2007; Schwan et al., 2020). Women who lose their housing often adopt strategies which may be less visible to the public (Klodawsky, 2006; Mayock et al., 2015; Robinson & Searby, 2005), and stigma and shame encourage women to conceal their lack of shelter (Mayock et al., 2015), as does their vulnerability to violence. Single women who experience homelessness have been referred to as “self-managed” (Robinson & Searby, 2005, p. 16) because they often manage their situation on their own and avoid presenting at services until they have no other option. We also know that Indigenous populations are an important part of a growing and often hidden homelessness problem (Christensen, 2016; Peters & Christensen, 2016; Schwan et al., 2020), and that there is too little information on Indigenous and women of color who are especially vulnerable to homelessness. Importantly, the hidden nature of homelessness, combined with colonialism, racism and sexism, mean that there are often insufficient resources to address the problem, prolonging their experiences of homelessness and its risks, and increasing the long-term effects on health and well-being, which may include further trauma, mental health problems, exhaustion and more (Gessler et al., 2011; Mayock et al., 2015; Watson et al., 2016).

Finally, pathways to homelessness may be quite different based on gender, sexuality, and other identities and social experiences. Domestic violence is a leading cause of homelessness for women, occurring both directly and indirectly (Pavao et al., 2007; Sullivan & Olsen, 2016). For example, abusers may steal or destroy a victim’s property, ruin their credit, or prevent them from working; or domestic violence can lead to depression, illness, and related job loss, which then translates into homelessness (e.g. Adams et al., 2012; Lacey et al., Lacey et al., 2013). Women also become homeless because of a growing shortage of affordable housing and a simultaneous increase in poverty, and because of mental illness and substance abuse which may be related to interpersonal or structural violence (Finfgeld-Connett, 2010). Homeless women are more likely to be victims of sexual assault and to have received a mental health diagnosis than homeless men (Khandor & Mason, 2007). LGBTQ2S individuals (especially youth) are also more likely to experience homelessness because of unacceptance or family violence in their households (Corliss et al., 2011). In addition to violence, Hrenchuk and Bopp (2007, p. 36) note that lack of accessible and affordable transportation, poor infrastructure, costs of living, employment opportunities, and other social issues may particularly contribute to women’s homelessness. Further, Hrenchuk and Bopp (2007, p. 36) note that the “criminalization of women for crimes of survival” including prostitution, welfare “fraud” and drug use all contribute to and complicate the path to regaining lost housing. Studies also suggest that immigrant and refugee women have particular needs and risks when compared to Canadian-born women experiencing homelessness. As Paradis et al. (2008, p. 3) report “women without status … are extremely vulnerable, often living in conditions of deep poverty, housing instability, danger, and exploitation … For these women, pregnancy and childbirth represent a crisis, making employment impossible, incurring health care costs, and disrupting precarious housing arrangements.”

Conclusion

While feminist critical scholars have been chiseling away at and calling attention to these inequalities for decades, unequal structures remain relatively stalwart. However, we are inspired by the persistence of intersectional activists, the shifting terrain of increased resources for and attending to housing for all in Canada and the US, and the possibilities for transformation that often bubble up during crises.

The themes we have outlined above sketch out a research and action agenda for housing that better serve our most vulnerable populations. In particular, more research is needed to analyze housing data by intersectionality, and significantly more research needs to be done to track harassment and assault on the part of landlords. The role of informal networks in the lives of women and their families need to be much better understood, and engaged research must be conducted in collaboration with tenants living in public housing in Canada and with women of color and Indigenous communities in the United States; too often those with lived experience, especially black mothers, are distant objects of research rather than important collaborators and contributors (Mendenhall et al., 2017). Additional and innovative, holistic research is also needed on the health and well-being of lower-income women, and models that look at health and healing from a community perspective are particularly important (Chioneso et al., 2020; Mendenhall et al., 2017). Finally, housing initiatives designed for diverse women and their families should continue to be evaluated in order to better understand and fine-tune service provision, governance mechanisms and housing design. In all of these areas, understanding the effects of the current pandemic on precarity is crucial, even as we refuse to avert our gaze from long-standing intersectional disparities.

While more research is needed, we know that women-led and other practical housing interventions exist that can be scaled and learned from, that more investment in housing infrastructure and assistance is needed, that an intersectional lens will benefit existing policies and practices, and that some gender-sensitive policy responses to the pandemic are already emerging that can be adapted. For example, tools like the COVID-19 Global Gender Response Tracker demonstrate how countries are enacting policy to respond to issues of economic security, unpaid care, and domestic violence for women (COVID-19 Global Gender Response Tracker, n.d.). Notably absent from the U.N. data is information on housing policy, however, reflecting the persistent gap in intersectional feminist housing studies and programs. Additionally, many regions in both the United States and Canada have put into place eviction moratoriums and expanded temporary housing assistance endeavors (Benfer, 2020; Canada Mortgage and Housing Corporation [CMHC], 2020). Further, the use of a gender-based analysis on housing has been adopted in Canada, although it is sorely needed in the American housing landscape as well: the Canadian, National Housing Strategy features an emphasis on GBA+ and has dedicated a minimum of 25% of funds to initiatives which support women and girls, including those who are older, those who live in remote communities, newcomers, and those escaping intimate partner violence (Government of Canada, 2018).

There are also extant, grassroots housing models that have much to offer. Atira Women’s Resource Society is a pioneering, women-centered nonprofit organization operating in urban centers in British Columbia, Canada, and sponsors a range of affordable, non-market housing initiatives to support those affected by violence, including a shelter for women who are pregnant or with newborns, transitional housing for older women and single-room occupancies for youth (Atira Women’s Resource Society, 2019). These women are also able to access a wide range of supports, programs and services, including restorative common spaces in their buildings (Sagert, 2017), childcare, and health and employment services. Further, the organization provides a health and safety liaison program for women residing in single-room accommodations (SRAs), offering, for example, mediation between tenants and building managers and working to improve the safety of this housing (Escalante, 2013). In Oakland, California, Moms 4 Housing, a collective of homeless and marginally-housed mothers, organized to occupy a vacant home owned by a corporate real estate investor. Primarily Black mothers, they are survivors of domestic violence and are triple-burdened by work, care, and community labors described above. Rooted in intersectional understanding of the exploitation of Black and brown communities at the hands of real estate profiteers, as well as the specific injustices faced by Black mothers, the Moms 4 Housing collective sparked resistance to capitalist notions of housing and profit, but has also inspired and endorsed housing alternatives such as cooperative housing and community land trusts. Housing policy proposals from Oakland, as well as from national legislators, have begun to address the precariousness of housing for many families (Harris, 2020). Examples include the proposed Moms 4 Housing Tenant Opportunity to Purchase Act, which would give Oakland tenants the first right to buy their building if their home goes to market, and the “People’s Housing Platform,” a package of seven bills proposed by a progressive group of U.S. Representatives to address housing precarity through tenant protections, community reinvestment, and affordable housing (Brave Noisecat, 2020; Sisson, 2020).

Important to note is the fact that five of the seven Representatives involved in this housing platform are women of color, underscoring the need to center female and diverse leadership in housing policy.

Cooperative housing led by women have been successful in both Canada and in the United States (as well as in Europe [De Jorge Huertas, 2020]). Co-housing and cooperatives have been shown to produce high levels of satisfaction, security and stability in housing for women, especially for those who have experienced negative interactions with landlords, homelessness, and other forms of housing instability. They have a strong record of providing high-quality, safe, affordable housing for low- and moderate-income populations and are an excellent opportunity for women with lower incomes and younger families to attain housing security and leadership roles (Clark et al., 1990; Saegert & Benitez, 2005; Wekerle, 1997). Self-management, leadership, and the provision of multiple services provided through cooperatives and housing offered by community development corporations have also been found to be valuable for women. Some forms of co-housing may reduce women’s caregiving responsibilities (McCracken & Watson, 2004; Tummers, 2015; Vestbro & Horelli, 2012): housing projects designed by women architects and planners have responded to the everyday and intergenerational experiences of women, with concepts like flexible communal spaces, including terraces, meeting rooms and laundry, ample spaces for strollers, and co-located assisted housing for elderly integrated into the design (Ullmann, 2013). While more research, investment, and fine tuning of cooperative housing models is needed, especially with an intersectional and culturally competent lens that has women at the forefront, they remain an important and underutilized housing option for diverse women.

Overall, explicitly intersectional feminist housing approaches remain largely absent in many policy and practice interventions. Housing programs tend to serve women because women are in greatest need of stable housing, not because they are specifically tailored to meet their needs. It is by coincidence, rather than by design, and as a result it is often unsustainable and insufficient. Critical resources are needed to invest in long term change and equity in housing, and we believe the time is now.

Acknowledgments

The authors would like to thank Sandy Koo, Isobel Araujo, Aijia Deng and Will Roy for their research assistance.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).

Additional information

Funding

This work was supported by the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada and the Canada Mortgage and Housing Corporation [890–2018–1009, 1004–2019–0001].

Notes on contributors

Brenda Parker

Brenda Parker is an Associate Professor and Associate Dean of Academic Affairs at the College of Urban Planning and Public Affairs at UIC. Her research focuses on gendered and raced inequalities and activism in cities, including those related to housing and urban development. Her current projects focus on activism among formerly incarcerated individuals; experiences of women with disabilities in government, and housing interventions that engage with the needs of womyn and marginalized communities. She has published articles in journals such as Antipode, Canadian Geographer, and Gender, Place and Culture as well as a book, Masculinities and Markets: Raced and Gendered Urban Politics in Milwaukee (2017, University of Georgia Press). She has served on several boards, including the Center for Research on Women and Gender, Chicago Legal Advocacy for Incarcerated Mothers, and Cabrini Green Legal Aid.

Catherine Leviten-Reid is an Associate Professor in the Community Economic Development program at Cape Breton University, and is a member of the Nova Scotia-based Affordable Housing and Homelessness Working Group. She is currently principal investigator of a five-year, SSHRC-CMHC partnership grant on affordable rental housing called People, Places, Policies and Prospects, and in 2018, her work was acknowledged by Canada Mortgage and Housing Corporation for housing research excellence. Much of Catherine’s research is community based, and her work focuses on community development, social care, housing and social economy.

Catherine Leviten-Reid

Brenda Parker is an Associate Professor and Associate Dean of Academic Affairs at the College of Urban Planning and Public Affairs at UIC. Her research focuses on gendered and raced inequalities and activism in cities, including those related to housing and urban development. Her current projects focus on activism among formerly incarcerated individuals; experiences of women with disabilities in government, and housing interventions that engage with the needs of womyn and marginalized communities. She has published articles in journals such as Antipode, Canadian Geographer, and Gender, Place and Culture as well as a book, Masculinities and Markets: Raced and Gendered Urban Politics in Milwaukee (2017, University of Georgia Press). She has served on several boards, including the Center for Research on Women and Gender, Chicago Legal Advocacy for Incarcerated Mothers, and Cabrini Green Legal Aid.

Catherine Leviten-Reid is an Associate Professor in the Community Economic Development program at Cape Breton University, and is a member of the Nova Scotia-based Affordable Housing and Homelessness Working Group. She is currently principal investigator of a five-year, SSHRC-CMHC partnership grant on affordable rental housing called People, Places, Policies and Prospects, and in 2018, her work was acknowledged by Canada Mortgage and Housing Corporation for housing research excellence. Much of Catherine’s research is community based, and her work focuses on community development, social care, housing and social economy.