With Ohio State’s demolition of Buckeye Village comes increased rent, few choices for students with children
Buckeye Village will soon be gone and with it, Ohio State’s only affordable housing complex for students with families and graduate students. With no plans for the construction of new affordable housing, these students and many more like them are left floating in a sea of high rent and apartments that are not suited for young children.
Marcy Paredes|Managing Editor for Design
By Jack Long and Sarah Szilagy
Published July 1, 2021
At Buckeye Village, the beer cans, trash and speakers booming with pop music which are typical of student housing are non-existent. Instead, children’s bikes, playsets and toys are scattered around the affordable family housing complex just off Olentangy River Road.
But for a housing complex meant for families, Buckeye Village is incredibly quiet. Children can’t be heard squealing and laughing as they run around the scarlet and gray playset, swing or zip down slides because what once housed more than 300 families now houses around 30.
Over the last few years, residents here have seen their neighborhood shrink as the university closed applications for Buckeye Village in 2016 and tore down 13 apartment buildings — constructing athletic facilities in their place.
The university decided to use the land that Buckeye Village sits on for athletic facilities because it wished to consolidate athletic complexes and student-athlete services and create a community among student-athletes, university spokesperson Dan Hedman said in an email.
“The community is fading away because there are no more people,” Caesar Gemelli, a fifth-year doctoral student in Spanish and Portuguese, said.
He has lived in Buckeye Village since 2017 and lives with his son, newborn baby and wife Leila Vieira, a sixth-year doctoral student in Latin American literary and cultural studies and a resident since 2016.
Buckeye Village, Ohio State’s only affordable and family housing complex, is set to permanently close next year.
Mackenzie Shanklin|Photo Editor
Nearing a year out from its permanent closure, residents of the once-prosperous affordable housing complex expressed feeling more than just a shrinking community. They expressed fear for their safety and anxiety about finding affordable alternatives.
Buckeye Village was scheduled to finally close on May 15, 2021, but because of the coronavirus, the university extended this date to May 15, 2022, for current residents who will still be enrolled at the university in 2022. In an email, university spokesperson Dave Isaacs said this would be the final extension and “all remaining residents will need to have secured alternative housing after this date, regardless of their expected graduation date.”
Satellite images of the demolition of Buckeye Village apartment buildings and construction of athletic facilities.
Google Earth
“The university continues to investigate long-term solutions that support graduate student and family housing that is affordable,” Isaacs said.
But finding alternative housing may be easier said than done. Students will be hard-pressed to find rental rates close to the university-subsidized rent at Buckeye Village.
According to a Lantern analysis of 1,001 off-campus student apartments, the median rent for a two-bedroom apartment is $1,031.50 and $775 for a one-bedroom apartment. Rent for a two-bedroom apartment at Buckeye Village is $675 and $535 for a one-bedroom, according to a 2018 Lantern article.
Of the 572 two-bedroom apartments analyzed, nearly a third of them allow for a maximum of two residents — meaning they wouldn’t be suitable for a family of three or more. Two-hundred and thirty-one units allow three residents, 132 allow four residents and one unit allows five residents. Twenty-two of the two-bedroom apartments analyzed had no maximum occupancy data available.
Of the 429 one-bedroom apartments analyzed, 95 percent would be unsuitable for a family of three due to occupancy limits; 122 allow for one resident and 285 allow for two. Just 12 units allow more than two residents. Ten of the one-bedroom apartments analyzed had no maximum occupancy data available.
The higher rental prices are not unique to the immediate off-campus area. According to rentdata.org, which pulls data from the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development, the fair market rent value — calculated from the 40th percentile of gross rents in the area — in Columbus is $827 and $1,031 for one- and two-bedroom apartments, respectively.
Columbus’ fair-market rent value is higher than 97 percent of other places in Ohio, according to the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development.
Before the extension, Vieira said she and Gemelli started looking for places to live. They looked beyond the University District into Clintonville and were disappointed with what they found.
“It would be hard to pay for over $1,000 in rent on a graduate stipend,” Vieira said.
Where The Lantern gets its data
The Lantern pulled rental information for 572 two-bedroom units and 429 one-bedroom apartments from the Off-Campus and Commuter Student Services website. The data included rents, addresses, maximum occupancy, what utilities are included, the property type (apartment, condominium, duplex/townhouse), whether the property is wheelchair accessible and the landlord information.
The history of affordable housing at Ohio State
The university’s plan to provide affordable family housing started with the end of World War II and a nationwide insurgence of men home from overseas ready to continue their interrupted educations — and families. Facilitating the desire for education was the Servicemen’s Readjustment Act of 1944, known as the G.I. Bill, designed to help veterans in three main areas: medical expenses, home and business purchases and education.
With a yearly stipend of up to $500 for tuition, books and fees, 7.8 million veterans participated in an education or training program between 1944 and 1956, according to the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs.
But many veterans who hadn’t seen their wives in years didn’t want to choose between college and starting a family, presenting a need for a housing option besides single-sex college dormitories.
Universities across the U.S. set up temporary units, including at Ohio Wesleyan University, where, according to a Dec. 7, 1945, Lantern article, 50 trailers were placed in the women’s athletic field for married veterans.
At Ohio State, old military barracks were set up as emergency housing while the Federal Government Housing Authority paid for and built G.I. Village at Lane Avenue and Olentangy River Road. In 1947, 152 veterans and their families moved into the units. According to Lantern archives, many of the couples were unable to live together before moving into G.I. Village.
“This is the first time in four years we’ve had a real home,” a G.I. wife said in an Oct. 13, 1947, Lantern article.
The three- to five-bedroom fully-furnished units — ice boxes included — ranged between $25 and $43 per month.
Will Ohio State build replacement housing?
The 2013 Athletics District Framework Plan Update indicated the priorities of the university to consolidate the athletic district, including relocating Buckeye Village and determining whether the Buckeye Village community center could be used for athletics or if it should be sold.
A 2010 university development plan mentioned some plans for graduate and professional student housing near Lane Avenue and High Street and some parcels of land between 10th and 11th avenues. This plan also mentioned that the area to the north of the Athletics District, “bounded by Ackerman Road, should be reserved for potential family housing.”
But seven years later, in an updated development plan called “Framework 2.0,” family housing does not appear in the final report, nor does any graduate or affordable housing.
Overlooking mailboxes where apartments used to sit, the Schumaker Complex can be seen.
Mackenzie Shanklin|Photo Editor
Vieira is the housing and family affairs chair of the Council of Graduate Students, and since 2016, she’s met with key university administrators about the future of family housing at Ohio State.
She said it started as monthly meetings to discuss the demolition of the south buildings of the complex and how to move tenants into other units. As the years have gone on, however, she said it’s been a battle to ensure the university has plans to provide family housing — either at Buckeye Village or elsewhere.
In 2019, the Council of Graduate Students passed a resolution calling on the university to begin construction of new family housing units within two years. As part of the resolution, the council asked the university to form a committee of Buckeye Village residents to help plan for new housing.
“The university has consistently failed to prioritize the interests of graduate students with families; is in violation of the university’s own mission and values by taking an action that disproportionately affects marginalized student populations; [and] has broken the trust of current and previous Buckeye Village residents,” the resolution reads.
Protesting against Ohio State’s changes to the family housing neighborhood — whether it be rent increases, necessary renovations or building demolitions — has been a part of the Buckeye Village experience since before its construction.
Before Buckeye Village, G.I. Village residents organized community meetings in January 1947 to complain about mandatory $7 quarterly university bussing fees — worth about $82 today — even if residents didn’t use the buses. According to The Lantern, a planning committee was established to submit formal requests to the university to, among other things, allow residents to hang photos and to paint rooms a color to optimize lighting.
In 1957, the Buckeye Village Council submitted a letter to the university protesting a proposed 21 percent rent increase — from $40 to $46 and $45 to $52 for one- and two-bedroom units, respectively. When the university dismissed the complaint, citing “increasing costs of operation” and needing help with the “financing of future dormitories,” residents sent letters en masse to Ohio’s senators.
“We maintain that we should not be compelled to provide for the housing of unmarried students when our own flimsy and inadequate dwellings are in far greater need for rehabilitation and replacement,” the letter reads. “A University policy that demands forced donations while neglecting the needs of the donors is practically and morally unsound.”
And in the decades since, residents have voiced similar complaints: The university doesn’t do enough to support its graduate and nontraditional students. The university doesn’t prioritize the mission of Buckeye Village, which is to provide safe, affordable housing to students with families. Buckeye Village — and its residents — are forgotten and neglected, left in the dust as the university pursues the advancement of other interests.
The playground located in Buckeye Village has become overgrown with weeds and now sits empty.
Mackenzie Shanklin|Photo Editor
How popular was Buckeye Village?
Buckeye Village wasn’t always so empty. Clippings from The Lantern archives paint a picture of a prosperous community whose residents had strong footholds in university operations.
For decades, in fact, Buckeye Village was not only full — it was overflowing.
“Most students wait 12 to 15 months for the one and two bedroom apartments,” a Lantern article from July 19, 1971, reads. “Presently, 800 are on the waiting list.”
A Lantern newspaper clipping from Feb. 10, 1986, reports that although Columbus housing is “relatively plentiful,” it may be too expensive or inaccesible for single parents — or that children are not permitted.
Lantern Archives
Since 2010, the number of units available has decreased from 360 to 48 units in 2020. The university stopped taking applications for Buckeye Village in October 2016 but made some spaces available for rent in 2019 through an informal application process. Isaacs said in an email a “very limited number” of new applicants were accepted between January and November 2019.
In February 2017, Ohio State began accepting proposals for a new family and affordable housing complex at the northeast corner of Kenny Road and Woody Hayes Drive.
Four-hundred-fifty new units would have been built and rented at 25 percent below the market rate. Hedman said the site selection was informed by Buckeye Village resident feedback and their desire to remain near campus and grocery stores and be located along CABS and COTA bus routes.
Ohio State planned to use a private developer to construct the new complex. But construction never began because the developer would be subject to property taxes for the 10-acre lot. This tax would raise the cost of construction, which would then be passed off to students through higher rents. The university decided to not proceed with construction, citing unfavorably high rent.
In May 2020, Senate Bill 120 went into effect which amended Ohio tax law, exempting non-public developers from a property tax if the developers construct campus housing facilities under a lease agreement with universities.
“If the university were to again pursue a third-party development approach, it may benefit the overall cost. However, as a few years have passed, there are many unknowns at this time including overall construction and management costs,” Hedman said. “As such, the university continues to perform due diligence including a recent survey of graduate students regarding graduate housing which could inform any future recommendations.”
In 2009, the university surveyed and assessed building conditions. Buckeye Village units and the Ackerman Road Child Care Facility behind Buckeye Village were found to be below 80 percent on the facilities condition index, indicating these facilities needed some level of reinvestment, according to the 2013 Athletics District Framework Plan Update.
Now, with less than three dozen families left in Buckeye Village, empty units outnumber occupied ones tenfold. Instead of being consolidated into one or two buildings, families are dispersed throughout the grounds. Many, like Minseoc Choi, a seventh-year doctoral student in education, share a 12-unit apartment building with no one except their wife and child.
“It’s a little bit scary during the night,” Choi said. “Especially our unit.”
The number of empty units in Buckeye Village outnumbers the amount of occupied ones throughout the complex.
Mackenzie Shanklin|Photo Editor
There are so many empty units that Vieira said residents began watching for squatters who may be staying in the several dozen empty units.
Fewer families around presents more safety concerns than just attracting squatters.
Shua Ren, a fourth-year doctoral student in food science and technology, installed a security camera in her window after several families’ units were broken into a few years ago.
She said in November 2020, someone broke into her car and stole her purse.
It’s a little bit scary during the night.
Choi said there isn’t much his family can do beyond making sure the windows are locked at night.
In 2016, elevated levels of lead were found in the tap water at Buckeye Village. Residents were warned not to drink the water and bottled water was made available by the university, according to previous Lantern reporting.
Despite concerns and fears, Buckeye Villagers said they found benefits in living in the complex that go beyond low rent.
Ren said being on campus means she can use the university’s WiFi — something that became even more important for online classes during the pandemic. She also mentioned her daughter’s daycare is just a quick walk away on Ackerman Road.
Even though the dwindling number of residents has made Choi feel unsafe, he said he’s found a community in the several other families who are also from South Korea. Their kids play with each other, and the families get together for special events.
For Vieira, having a community of fellow students with families was the reason she came to Ohio State in the first place.
“It felt like every weekend we would meet with other families and we would go into the playground and have barbecues and they knew what we were going through,” Vieira said. “None of us were doing any work on the weekends because we knew it was impossible with a child. Other people in our programs didn’t understand that because they had other priorities.”
On a particularly warm Sunday in March, a young woman pulled a kitchen chair from her back stoop into the grass. She sat working on her computer as her two children ran around the playground just behind their apartment. The mother would get up and run over to yell at her kids about this-and-that. She would then get settled again in her chair just to have to get back up and redirect her kids’ energy from the street to the playset.
A little later, a couple sat preparing lunch at a set of picnic tables next to the playground. Their kids ran around, doing laps between the tall trees. Somewhere close by the “Buckeye Battle Cry” played.
“It’s not about international students. It’s not about students who are struggling to finish their degrees. This is about the people of Ohio — this is for the people of Ohio,” Gemelli said. “For me, this is the most frustrating part, to see that something that is allegedly run for the people of Ohio is shooting itself in the foot and finishing off services that were there to serve the people of Ohio and to benefit the people of Ohio.”