Shake up at the Cecil...

Surprise announcement sparks fear about displacement.

Last Wednesday, the ground leaseholder of the Hotel put his stake in the Cecil for sale. I wanted to write about it sooner, but I was fielding phone calls and emails from residents who were shaken and very concerned. As of this writing, I am at 17 emails, texts or calls from concerned residents.

As I told the Los Angeles times late last week, I am stunned that the owner didn’t give the community any advance notice of the sale. It was irresponsible at best and destabilizing at the worst.

Let me share with you some quotes from some of the texts and emails.

• “Am I kicked to the curb? What am I going to do?”

• “Why did they buy this just to sell it again?”

• “If I have to go back to the streets, I won’t make it.”

• “Why didn’t they tell us?”

I am grateful that I have been able to develop trust with residents, enough that they felt they could reach out to me. I told them that they would not be unhoused as a result of this sale. And I know they felt better.

The Cecil, billed by the Times as “infamous,” has its own unique problems. And each problem has a solution. An overarching solution that would staunch many of the less obvious but still pressing issues is to create a sense of community. The work that I have started, with the support of the on-site managers, was geared toward community-building.

The out-of-state owner has no sense of what the residents need. He has no idea of what “community” means to people who have been shunned, pushed to the margins and often left to their own devices to merely survive. On the other hand, he created an atmosphere of uncertainty and insecurity. He didn’t prioritize communication with those whom he was meant to be serving.

I hope whoever buys the ground lease has a better sense of what is needed for the Cecil — and hopefully its someone local who has a clear sense of the scope of the housing crisis we are experiencing in Los Angeles. The new owner should understand that the Cecil does not need to be “infamous,” but instead can be a place of authentic transformation and recovery.

I’d like to think that this lack of transparency didn’t set my work back ten steps. If it did, we, the residents and I, remain on a path of healing and growth. I’m not going anywhere.

Please support the work we do at the Cecil and across Skid Row. Our work is completely donor-supported. Your monthly or one-time gift can be life changing.