HOUSING: ADUs and IOUs

“That meeting [sic] was a small but mighty and productive group,” said Aron Murillo, reflecting on the Community Housing Conversation held on Tuesday night in June Lake’s Community Center. “But the work isn’t done to make change locally, or on a bigger scale.”

For mediator Paul McFarland, Tuesday night was a summit for transparency and collaborative solutions. As a member of the Mono Basin Housing Working Group, McFarland voiced the group’s frustration with what he called “black market meetings.”

“We wanted to stop talking about solutions to ourselves,” McFarland said of himself and his fellow working group members, “and figure out what some of the solutions [were] that communities want to support and get engaged in. Nothing happens unless people make it happen.”

Before the conversation portion of the evening, Eastern Sierra Community Housing presented on Accessory Dwelling Unit (ADU) compliance with California state laws, and income eligibility for prospective affordable housing projects.

ADU compliance, it seemed, was a hot topic of the night. County staffer Brent Calloway, was drafted by McFarland to set the record straight on ADU usage within Mono County. Calloway conceded that even he couldn’t keep up with all with all the state laws regarding ADU compliance—the litany of which results from an act of desperation by the state, according to Calloway, “to push for these accessory dwelling units as a solution for housing.” 

Calloway moved the conversation toward residential vehicle (RV) operation, first delineating those permissible forms of RV usage within Mono County. Dropping the other shoe, Calloway said, “We know there are people living all over the county in RVs that are not permitted. And the way the county goes about enforcing the regulations is that we are a completely complaint-based, operation.”

More on that, later.

Following Calloway, it was Mono County Supervisor, Bob Gardner, who took to the floor to promote the Board of Supervisors’ Ad-Hoc Subcommittee supporting housing initiatives. Gardner also informed those in attendance that they could visit the county website for “a list of 40 things” that the county had done to further steps toward remedying the housing crisis. 

“Structurally,” said Gardner, “we’ve done things.”

And as the meeting briefly adjourned for a break involving brownies and catered sandwiches from Epic Cafe, it appeared that civility and decorum was the order of the day. That is, until the floor opened up to public input from community members.

It was community member, Anthony Marzano, who first spoke out against those ordinances issued by the county which he viewed as arbitrary and inconsiderate of the community’s workforce. 

“I don’t know how many of you guys think two grand a month is reasonable rent, but it’s not for everyone,” said Marzano. “You’re putting out people who do the actual work here. That shovel the snow, that clean your tables, that clean your f*cking houses. You’re putting out people that can’t afford anything else. You’re putting out these two,” Marzano said, gesturing to the couple seated to his left.

That couple was Aron Murillo, and his girlfriend, Shay Pace—educators and residents of June Lake for the past four years.

Murillo and Pace moved into their current RV unit out of necessity. Having previously rented what Murillo remembers as a dilapidated unit—laden with mice and sewage issues—for their first two years in Mono County, Murillo and Pace made the decision to acquire an RV.

I caught up with Murillo after the Community Housing conversation, who admitted that his lifestyle is “extremely challenging,” and “not for the faint of heart.” Still, Murillo has felt supported by the community, which is why recents complaints issued against his and Pace’s RV usage—as hinted at by Calloway—have come as a shock.

To his knowledge, Murillo and Pace have been abiding by RV usage ordinances. 

 “The complaint is likely a generalized, submitted complaint form,” said Murillo. “It could be anyone from a second home owner to someone feeling vindictive of this lifestyle which is not geared toward ‘development.’”

Murillo was informed by the county that, because of violations, he and Pace have a little more than two weeks to vacate, or else, face a $100 fine for the first day of the violation, followed by a potential increase to $500 for each consecutive day in which a violation is committed.

During the meeting, Murillo pointed out that local ordinances have not kept pace with the current market environment, nor have attitudes kept pace with the cultural movement toward alternative housing styles.

“The housing situation hasn’t changed,” said Murillo, Tuesday night, “So we have to change how we think about the housing situation.”

The remainder of the conversation aimed to further that change. The community voiced concern that the rising level of homelessness was severe enough to warrant a state of emergency, and urged the county to use its power of purse to take action. Structural change, it seems, is hard to gauge. In times of crisis, immediacy is what matters. 

Attendees rallied behind the idea of a community housing trust—one that would impose an “empty house tax” on second homeowners. Theoretically, the proceeds of the tax would be funneled into housing initiatives.

The takeaway from Tuesday night is that many community members believe that safe, affordable housing in Mono County is a right, not a luxury. 

In today’s housing climate—untethered by orthodoxy or convenience—collaboration, leniency, and yes, conversation, will go a long way.