[caption id="attachment_2033" align="aligncenter" width="600" caption="Change federal tax policy for rental-market reform: Maureen Enser, Urban Development Institute. Photo by Marlis Funk."][/caption] [Editor's note: More than a third of Metro Vancouver's households are renters. And urban planners say the region needs some 6,000 new rental units a year to keep up with the number of people moving here. But construction is falling far short. Previous installments in this reader-funded Tyee Fellowship series investigated Vancouver's rental housing crisis from the standpoint of tenants, landlords, and the provincial agency in charge of settling disputes between the two. In her final report, journalist Jackie Wong explores what veterans of the rental wars say needs to change to make sure Vancouver's renters and landlords both get a fair shake.] When I meet Martha Lewis in the downtown office of the Tenant Resource & Advisory Centre (TRAC), her exhaustion is obvious. "I'm feeling fed up today," she sighs. Adding to her weariness, she's just heard about federal budget estimates that predictably project a further drop in federal investment in housing and homelessness programs. TRAC distributes free information on residential tenancy law in 18 languages. Its staff holds regular legal education workshops and advocacy training sessions.

[Editor's note: Half of Metro Vancouver's households are renters. Private property owners provide most of the apartments they live in. If either side has a complaint about the other, the dispute is likely to end up before the provincial government agency in charge of landlord-tenant issues. What happens next is anybody's guess. In this latest installment of her Tyee Fellowship series on Vancouver's rental housing crisis, Jackie Wong gets a rare glimpse inside the Residential Tenancy Branch.] Every business day, dispute resolution officers working for the Residential Tenancy Branch (RTB) -- the arm of the provincial government that polices landlord-tenant conflicts -- convene arbitration hearings across the province. What goes on in them is difficult to know. Even seasoned veterans say the agency is shrouded in mystery. "The RTB is Fort Knox," tenant activist Christine Ackermann tells me. "You can't get in. You can't get information. They won't release it."

[caption id="attachment_1991" align="aligncenter" width="600" caption="For years, tenants at The Seafield fought with landlords Gordon and Nelson before the building was sold in 2011. Photo by Marlis Funk."][/caption]   [Editor's Note: As many as half the households in the city of Vancouver, and thousands more across Metro, rent rather than own their accommodation. But for some, freedom from a mortgage comes with mounting insecurity over whether they'll face eviction. Meanwhile, finding an affordable place to call home can mean a nail-biting search. In yesterday's installment of our latest reader-funded Tyee Fellowship series, journalist Jackie Wong heard from tenants who blame the crisis in Vancouver rental housing on grasping landlords. In this report, she hears from landlords -- and gets a different take on the situation.] A vintage road bike leans against the wall outside the Gastown headquarters of Gordon Nelson Inc. (GNI). The office door is inscribed with "Internet Gaming Partners," the name of the online gaming company brothers-in-law Jason Gordon and Chris Nelson own in addition to their namesake rental property management firm. Gordon, 39, is dressed in black tie evening wear -- a holdover from last night's festivities at the father-daughter dance he attended with his young daughter, Lucy, who accompanies us on the interview.

[caption id="attachment_1969" align="aligncenter" width="600" caption="After the landlords they'd fought for years sold their building, tenants of The Seafield hope for a new era of peace. Photo by Marlis Funk."][/caption] [Editor's Note: Vancouver revels in its reputation as North America's most 'livable’ city. Yet for as many as half of Vancouver's households and thousands of others across Metro who rent rather than own their accommodation, finding a place to come home to can mean a nail-biting search. More worrisome still, even once an affordable rental has been found, it can be abruptly snatched away again. In this installment of our latest reader-funded Tyee Fellowship series, journalist Jackie Wong investigates one common practice that has a growing number of renters up in arms. (Read her first report here.)] The hallways in The Seafield apartment building have been stripped of their carpets. Pebbles and dust line the dark walls. It's the first day of March, and the 80-year-old, 14-unit walkup in Vancouver's West End is in rough shape -- in more than one sense. For two and a half years, the Pendrell Street dwelling has been the site of a vocal battle between the people who until recently owned The Seafield, and the people who live there. Brothers-in-law Chris Nelson and Jason Gordon purchased the building for $3,447,000 in July 2008, through their company Gordon Nelson Inc. (GNI). Over the following months GNI issued a number of eviction notices, claiming it needed the suites vacated in order to renovate the elderly building.

[caption id="attachment_1939" align="aligncenter" width="600" caption="Rental housing in Vancouver: 'A downward spiral.' Photo by Marlis Funk."][/caption] [Editor's Note: This is the first in a series of cross-posts with The Tyee looking at "renovictions" in Vancouver. Survey after poll after review lauds Vancouver as North America's most 'livable' -- home to some of the most desirable addresses on Earth. Yet for up to half of Vancouver city residents and thousands of other householders across Metro who rent rather than own their accommodation, finding a place to come home to in the continent's most-envied urban region can seem like the proverbial haystack-hunt for a needle. And once found, rental tenancy can end abruptly even when renters follow all the rules. In this latest Tyee Fellowship series funded by readers, journalist Jackie Wong investigates.] Carolyn Ali didn't expect to be a boomerang kid in her late thirties. She's worked for a decade as a freelance writer. In recent years, as her husband battled an illness that limited his ability to work, her job has been the couple's chief source of income. Their $850-a-month one-bedroom apartment in Kitsilano was small, but close to the weekly newspaper where Ali works part-time as an editor. Then in late April they received an eviction notice, their second in five years. Neither order had anything to do with the couple's conduct. For 15 years they always paid their rent on time and made a point of building positive relations with landlords. On both occasions they were told to vacate their suite so the building's owners could move their own families in. Now, fed up with a system they feel is hostile to long-term tenants, the two are packing up to exit the rental market the only way they can: they're moving in with Ali's parents.

[caption id="attachment_1315" align="aligncenter" width="600" caption="Photo courtesy of Will Keats-Obsorn from the Vancouver Critical Mass flickr pool."][/caption]   When writer and community organizer Chris Carlsson proposed that the San Francisco Bicycle Coalition (SFBC) start a group ride home together on the last Friday of the month, the idea was cautiously embraced by the ad-hoc group of cyclists who would meet at the back of a Chinese restaurant in the early 90s. The SFBC had no interest in sponsoring the event, Carlsson says, but that decision set the course for the spirit of the ride: it would be a spontaneous, unstructured event powered by the collective energy of its participants. On the last Friday of September 1992, a group of 48 cyclists gathered at the foot of Market Street in San Francisco for its first group ride that would become a monthly tradition. Critical Mass was born. The event soon spread to other cities, and the number of participants grew exponentially with each ride.