As a fellow social housing tenant, I felt I had to respond to the recent article by Elizabeth Spring, in which she says it’s terrifying to be a tenant right now. I have no idea which social housing landlord Elizabeth is renting from, but I can assure her that the experience she describes does not reflect my own.
I moved into social housing five years ago, after the break-up of my marriage. My housing association flat was my lifeboat; without that safety net I’m not sure how I would have coped. At no point did I ever feel, as Elizabeth says she does, “beneath contempt” or “a loser”. I was treated with dignity and respect by all those who supported me. I was encouraged to make decisions in my best interest, and given all the necessary information to do this.
A few months after I moved in, I received a letter inviting me to a tenant engagement event. Being inherently nosy and wishing to get to know my local community better, I attended. I learned at this event that my new landlord genuinely cared about the community, and wanted to be a part of it and support those who contributed to it. I discovered there were many ways in which tenants could become involved, and am now a member of my housing association board. I also found, chatting to other tenants, that many were people like me, who had fallen on difficult times and been supported by social housing. We all had a desire to pay it forward, and to contribute to the organisation which helped us so it could help others.
My first event as a member of the board was a strategic planning day, where, despite it being my first meeting, my contributions were listened to and included in the records. I have since attended numerous events and meetings, reviewed tender documents, discussed changes to policies and been involved in appointing the new chief executive. At all times I have felt that my contribution was appreciated and where appropriate, acted upon. I must add that I am not the only tenant on the board: I am one of five, and none of us are there simply to pay lip service to the regulator’s requirement for tenant involvement.
Although I do not always agree with the other non-executive or executive directors, I have never been shouted down or told to shut up. If I have a question, I know that I can approach any of the directors, the chair of the board or the chief executive, and they will either answer me directly, or point me in the direction of the appropriate member of staff.
Tenant involvement has resulted in the funding of a number of activities, such as allotment and gardening clubs, community cafes, even day trips to the seaside. Without the participation of tenants at all levels of the organisation, this just wouldn’t happen. I appreciate that not all housing associations have tenants on their boards, but there must be some impetus on tenants to seek out opportunities to get involved. If tenants do not attend meetings or return surveys, for example, the organisation may well shrug its shoulders and say, “Well, we tried”.
The housing landscape is changing, but rather than watching from the sidelines, I can be a part of that change. I can influence discussions and decisions, present a different point of view, and use my professional knowledge and expertise (I am a nurse), to highlight concerns which may have been overlooked.
I may be lucky to be a tenant of a forward-looking, tenant-focused housing association, but I know I am not the only one. If yours isn’t, perhaps you need to start asking the awkward questions.
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