“$2,500,” Shuford said.
Shuford’s family of six have lived in their three-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment at Heather Hill, a multibuilding complex of 459 units in Temple Hills, for nearly three years. Partially thanks to a temporary cap on increases passed by the County Council in 2023, rent has remained stable for Shuford, 31, since he moved in.
But that protection will expire in October, leaving many working-class renters like Shuford possibly facing steep hikes in the coming year, even as they struggle with poor maintenance and unresponsive landlords. Organizers like Benito-Perez have been knocking on doors across the county, hoping residents like Shuford will sign a petition in support of formalizing the cap.
Housing affordability is a pressing issue for legislators in Prince George’s, a majority-Black suburb bordering D.C. Black and Latino renters stand to be disproportionately affected by rent hikes here, where despite pockets of affluence, 10 percent of residents live below the poverty line, according to the U.S. Census Bureau. Homelessness in Prince George’s is also on the rise, increasing by 47 percent last year — the highest in the Washington region.
More people on the streets would overwhelm county services, said council member Krystal Oriadha, the sponsor of last year’s rent cap bill. “Our agency budgets can’t bear it. We are maxed out as a county here.”
For Shuford, the hole wasn’t the only issue. His brand-new washing machine was filling with dirty water, and his sink was overflowing regularly.
“We have just had temporary rent stabilization at 3 percent, but we want to make this law permanent,” Benitez-Perez said to Shuford. “What do you think of that?”
Shuford was silent for a moment. He drives a bus for the Washington Metropolitan Area Transit Authority, and his wife works in the guidance office at a county public school. His oldest child is 13, and the other three are younger than 5. The family has been plagued by chest colds and coughs that he worries are caused by mold.
Shuford signed the petition, shrugging off worries that going public with his problems would draw a negative reaction from Heather Hill’s management.
“My household is sick,” he said.
OneWall Communities, Heather Hill’s management company, based in Stamford, Conn., did not return calls and emails seeking comment on whether it plans to increase rent or address the conditions residents described.
‘Not a permanent solution’
Rent stabilization measures have become increasingly common in counties across the D.C. region and beyond, as rents skyrocketed during the pandemic. Last year, Montgomery County passed a bill that would permanently cap rent increases at 6 percent for all residents.
Oriadha, the Prince George’s council member, proposed a straight 3 percent rent cap for the county last spring. Other council members balked at such a measure, concerned that area landlords would either sell or steer new building projects elsewhere. Council members voted instead to pass a temporary cap for one year, then determine its future this summer.
“Three percent is not a permanent solution. We can’t continue this way indefinitely,” Council Chair Jolene Ivey said in an interview. She warned that in a county where nearly 4 in every 10 residents is a renter, Prince George’s can’t afford to put in place polices that will scare away landlords. Montgomery County, in contrast, has a slightly lower percentage of renters but also saw a lower increase in homelessness in 2023.
“There is no way we can expect landlords to provide a service and maintain their properties with that in place,” said Ivey, who voted in support of the temporary measure. She added that in her recent conversations with local landlords, they have opposed a permanent 3 percent cap.
The National Apartment Association, which advocates on behalf of apartment building owners, also opposes rent control. “Rent control distorts the housing market by acting as a deterrent and disincentive to develop rental housing, and expedites the deterioration of existing housing stock,” the association says on its website.
Organizers concerned about affordable housing, however, see the county’s large share of renters as a bloc of potential political power. CASA is part of a coalition that includes the NAACP, the county branch of the Democratic Socialists of America, the Poor People’s Campaign and local church groups. Others have also joined the push for a permanent cap, such as the Prince George’s County Educators Association, which is the local teachers union, and Life After Release, an organization working with formerly incarcerated people.
“These partners coming together shows how dire protections on rent increases are,” Benitez-Perez said.
Coalition volunteers have teamed up to go out each week to gather petition signatures from renters. They’ve also engaged people such as Charlene Hall, 59, who has lived in Heather Hill for six years, to help rally her neighbors. She and her adult son and daughter share a three-bedroom unit. Hall knows firsthand how renters have been in a constant battle with management over the disconnect between the price they pay for rent and the housing quality that monthly price provides.
“I have been having problems since I moved here,” she said. “There would be water problems, flooding in the unit. I’d wait days for them to fix it. Then there was mold in the closet.”
According to Benitez-Perez, signatures are just the first step in sparking more political engagement among the county’s renters. “The goal, more than anything, is to get people informed that this is happening,” he said.
Benitez-Perez doesn’t know yet how many signatures he and his fellow organizers have been able to collect. Whenever the council moves forward with a proposal, the coalition will submit the signatures. For now, they will keep knocking on doors, reaching out to as many communities as possible.
At Heather Hill, Raynard Dorsey, 51, pays $1,805 for a carpeted one-bedroom. He doesn’t have a washer and dryer. Calls for maintenance are often ignored, he told Hall, Benitez-Perez and others from CASA after they had knocked on his door.
Dorsey has a steady job as a barber in Southeast Washington, but the monthly rent and bills leave him without any savings he could use to move. He was sympathetic to the cause, Dorsey explained, but not sure about signing a petition that might put him at odds with the landlords. Management had just done him a favor by cutting his rent a little.
“Do you think it’s worth what you’re paying?” Benitez-Perez asked.
“It’s really not, man,” Dorsey said.
Hall saw an opening. Her own housing problems had jolted her into volunteering. She felt that others should know they were not alone in feeling taken advantage of.
“You got a one-bedroom?” Hall said. “I got a three-bedroom, and you’re paying what I pay.”
Dorsey sighed, then signed the petition. “They only lowered it by $83,” he said.
Hall and the others moved on to knock on the next door.