17-07-2025
Neal: Finally bought a house — 15 years and 3 displacements later
Columnists
Like many families in Montreal, mine is still unpacking — digging through boxes to find the tools and utensils we need to make summer meals special. The difference is, our last move was over a year ago.
Moving Day might be a Montreal tradition, but behind the bustle lies a deeper reality: Housing has become a business that leaves some families in limbo, and the ripple effects last long after the rental truck pulls away.
When a move is unexpected or leaves families stretching every dollar to secure their next place, the aftermath can mean months — sometimes years — of re-establishing routines, personal networks and support systems, and that's if you end up with an address of your own.
In Quebec, homelessness rose 44 per cent between 2018 and 2022, with nearly 4,700 people in Montreal living without a stable home. Montrealers aren't alone in this challenge.
Across Canada during that same time, nearly one in nine households were living in homes that were unaffordable or inadequate, according to the C.D. Howe Institute. Families with young children are being pushed out of stable housing faster than they can recover, and they're staying longer in shelters because the pathway to a permanent home keeps narrowing.
The challenge is echoed in the U.S., where nearly half of all renters are considered 'cost-burdened' with millions of households spending more than half of their income just to keep a roof over their heads. Whether north or south of the border, families are becoming casualties of a system that treats housing as an asset class and not a public good.
In my family's case, it took 15 years of saving and three displacements before we finally bought a place of our own. The first unexpected move happened in Los Angeles when the owner of our Koreatown condo defaulted, and the unit was sold to investors at auction. We had 30 days to leave, and I was seven months pregnant.
The next two occurred in Montreal, first in the Plateau and then on the South Shore, one year apart, when the owners returned to reclaim their home. When we finally found a place to buy, we had to compete with 11 other offers within 48 hours of it hitting the market.
Today, home prices are at an all-time high — 60 per cent higher in Montreal, according to a housing market report from — putting ownership increasingly out of reach. Families are being funnelled into a rental market where supply is tight and average rents could rise at least five per cent higher than they were a year ago, thanks to the latest guidance from Quebec's housing tribunal.
Meanwhile, a growing share of housing is being bought by investors and corporations. As reported by Canadian Dimension magazine, Canada's top 25 landlords held more than 300,000 rental units in 2020. These corporate landlords can profit by maximizing rents and minimizing operating costs, like maintenance, repairs and tenant services. They reshape neighbourhoods as homes are treated as revenue streams rather than shelters.
And while housing costs and everyday expenses keep bubbling up, wages barely keep pace. Statistics Canada data shows that earnings have increased, but with slower hiring and some salaries frozen, many families are left stuck in place as their grocery bills climb.
During my recent trip to the U.S. Midwest, a local driver shared that Kringles — a flaky Danish pastry — cost just 90 cents when he was younger. I paid $12 for the cinnamon-flavoured one I brought home to share with my family. Different commodity, same price problem.
Solving the housing crisis will require building more units and rebalancing power through rent controls with teeth, reforms that prioritize affordability and safeguards that prevent families from being displaced.
Public investment should make housing stable, not just profitable. Because when homes are treated as assets instead of essentials, even those who manage to hang on are often just one crisis away from falling through the cracks.
