|
 Sorry,
No Solar Panels in This Neighborhood
How
some homeowners’ associations inhibit ecologically sound living
Source:
Featurewell.com
The house Heather and Joseph Sarachek were building in Scarsdale,
N.Y., was to be a model of green efficiency, complete with
geothermal heating and cooling. Even the electricity to run
the system would be clean, coming from solar panels on their
roof—but when the time came to install the panels last fall,
construction came to an abrupt halt.
A local Board of Architectural Review refused to issue the
Saracheks a permit for the solar apparatus, having received
a letter from at least 15 neighbors—among them doctors, lawyers
and other presumably well-educated people—arguing that the
panels “would clearly be an eyesore in our lovely Quaker Ridge
neighborhood.”
This March—four months, $20,000 in extra construction and
legal costs, and 107 petition signatures later, and after
agreeing to plant a screen of trees to hide their “eyesore”—the
Saracheks finally got the board’s decision reversed. On a
4-3 vote, the victory was a squeaker. But it meant that the
prosperous village of Scarsdale, where the average house is
valued at $834,000, would see its first solar panels ever.
On April 14, in more than 1,400 lo cations from coast to coast,
Americans rallied around the goal of reducing carbon emissions
by 80 percent within the next four decades. On April 22, the
San Francisco Chronicle’s Earth Day editorial spoke
for millions of us when it urged: “The whole planet, with
billions of people and scores of governments, must work together
on the same page. It’s the only way to curb the global threats
of rising temperatures, dirty air and polluted and life-depleted
oceans. One day in late April isn’t enough.”
But too many cities, counties, towns and subdivisions are
still working off the wrong “page” by banning ecologically
sound practices and even mandating consumption and waste.
Rooted in outdated aesthetics and plain old snobbery, those
regulations make less sense than ever on a planet in peril.
The Saracheks and other Scarsdale residents live under citywide
architectural restrictions, but 57 million Americans—approaching
one person out of five—live in homes regulated by homeowner
associations (HOAs). These private groups hold sway not only
in gated havens of the rich but in many more modest neighborhoods
as well.
HOA boards of directors usually are elected by residents,
but their architectural review committees often are not. They
have sweeping powers to enforce so-called restrictive covenants,
which can control almost any aspect of the property, from
the size of the house or garage down to details like changes
in paint color or placement of basketball hoops. When a house
is sold, the covenant goes with it.
The Community Associations Institute cites polls showing that
78 percent of homeowners belonging to HOAs believe the rules
they live under “protect and enhance” property values. And
when it comes to enforcing neighborhood behavior, it’s what
people believe that counts.
Many homeowners’ associations post their covenants on their
Web sites for the convenience of members. Doing some simple
searches, I recently found a few dozen such documents. They
often are highly detailed in describing what is allowed, what
is not and what happens if you don’t do what you’re supposed
to do or fail to do what they require.
I was looking for rules that affect a home’s environmental
footprint, and there were plenty. The most common restrictions
were ones that prohibit drying clothes outdoors (effectively
forcing the use of electric or gas dryers), forbid or restrict
the placement of solar devices, dictate industrial-style lawn
and landscape care or set a minimum square footage of floor
space. Most also ban political signs, which itself can be
an important environmental issue.
HOA documents are littered with those and a host of other
bans on earth-friendly practices. Here are excerpts, taken
directly from HOA covenants, that illustrate the kinds of
prohibitions being enforced across the country:
Westerley subdivision in Sterling, Va.: “Solar panels and
solar collectors are prohibited.”
Camelot in Cottleville, Mo.: “Exterior solar collection systems,
wind generator systems or other similar appliances are prohibited.”
Peach Creek in Lisle, Ill.: “Compost piles may not be created
on any properties. . . . A window fan is never allowed to
be placed in the front windows of a home.”
Quail Cove in Tucson, Ariz.: “Outdoor clotheslines are not
permitted.” (This in a region where the great outdoors is
like the inside of a clothes dryer!)
Crest Mountain in Asheville, N.C.: “The following are precluded:
Outside clotheslines or clothes drying . . . window air conditioning
units . . . vegetable gardens . . .”
Tavistock Farms in Leesburg, Va.: “Vegetable gardens must
not exceed 64 square feet.” (With no more than 8 feet by 8
feet for growing vegetables, should they really be calling
this place “farms”?)
Sun Valley in Waldorf, Md.: “No awnings in the front of the
house will be allowed.”
Suppression of clotheslines probably has received more attention
over the past few years than any other type of anti-green
restriction. Despite renewed interest in “solar drying,” highlighted
each April 19 by National Hanging Out Day, HOAs across the
country are retaining their laundry-line prohibitions—reflecting,
say critics, their deep-seated prudishness and class bias.
People rarely confront HOAs directly over clothesline rules;
most either conform or covertly disobey. Alice (not her real
name) lives in the Lakeside Estates subdivision of Austin,
Texas. Because her HOA bans outdoor clothes drying, Alice
told me by e-mail, she slips out to her backyard on summer
mornings with one of those expanding “umbrella”-style clotheslines,
puts it up, and hangs her laundry: “I put things out and try
to get them in as soon as I can. I don’t leave my clothesline
out when it isn’t in use.”
Alice has received no warnings from her HOA—yet. But you wouldn’t
expect such guerrilla-style energy conservation to be necessary
in laid-back Austin. Alice says, “Yeah, usually people think
of Austin and they think of relaxed attitudes. But I think
since the housing market boomed, it has made people a lot
less relaxed.”
Evidence to back up her theory can be found just across town,
beyond the northwest corner of Austin’s city limits in the
middle-class suburb of Hunter’s Chase. There, Jason and Lisa
Spangler have been maintaining a garden of native wildflowers
and other plants in their front yard for years. But they almost
lost their native plantings in August 2002, when they received
a violation notice on behalf of their HOA.
Jason told me, “Someone came by on a ‘random inspection,’
taking pictures, and thought it was some sort of grass and
weeds.” The Spanglers faced legal action if they didn’t mow
it all down.
They stood their ground, and the showdown came at a meeting
of the municipal utility district that enforces the rules
in Hunter’s Chase. At the meeting, characterized by Spangler
as “very unpleasant,” he and Lisa were asked how they could
have something “so ugly” in their front yard. No one seemed
impressed that they used no herbicides, insecticides or fertilizers
on their wildflower garden. “One board member said she had
an art degree,” said Jason, “and she could see that the ‘texture’
of our yard just didn’t look right.”
To the board’s chagrin, the Spanglers had backed up their
claims with extensive documentation from the Native Plant
Society of Texas. Lisa says board members resented what they
saw as an intrusion by out-of-towners: “They asked, ‘How much
did you pay these people?’ ” But, said Jason, the evidence
was overwhelming, and “they had no choice but to approve the
garden.”
West of Austin, in more drought-prone parts of the American
West, lawns remain the rule. Although xeriscaping—water-conserving
landscape design—is becoming more common, one developer recently
told the Colorado Springs Gazette that for the most
part, “There’s no question. People want green, nice, good-looking
sod.”
Even if they don’t want it, their HOA might well force it
on them. And environmentally questionable rules can intrude
well beyond the front lawn. For example, by mandating minimum
square footages, many associations are helping pump up the
already-bloated American home.
A 2005 article in the Journal of Industrial Ecology
showed that a very well-insulated 3,000-square-foot house
consumes more energy than a poorly insulated 1,500-square-footer.
And building a 25-percent smaller house saves more trees than
are saved by using advanced wood-efficient construction techniques.
The average U.S. house in the 1970s had 1,500 square feet;
by 2006, the typical house was heating and air conditioning
almost 2,500 square feet, despite having fewer people living
in it. The average home today has three times as much living
space per person as in the 1950s. Many HOAs want to keep those
numbers going up.
Here are some more typical passages from covenants imposed
by HOAs in several states, each mandating some kind of stepped-up
resource consumption or pollution:
Piedmont community in Pine Mountain, Ga.: “Size and square
footage of heated and conditioned space: A minimum 2,750 square
feet.”
Cobblestone in Wichita, Kan.: “Minimum living area excluding
the basement: Single level—1,800 square feet. Two level—2,000
square feet [with] central heating and air conditioning. .
. . Seeded or sodded grass lawn on entire lot.” Also “minimum
of two car garage—concrete driveway.” (No cobblestone driveways
in Cobblestone!)
Van Zandt Farms in Haslet, Texas: “Sprinklers shall be installed
in the front yard of each residence.”
Eagle Point Golf Community near Medford, Ore.: “Lawns shall
be watered, fertilized and sprayed for weeds and/or insects
and diseases as needed to keep them healthy and green. They
shall be mowed on a regular basis.”
Applewood Park in Tigard, Ore.: “. . . a mowed lawn that is
regularly fertilized and is free of weeds and debris . . .
including clover and dandelions.” (This is followed by a helpful
hint: “There is a product called ‘Bayer’ that works well for
removing clover.”)
Covington Estates in Fishers, Ind.: “Each lot shall maintain
at least two continuous dusk-to-dawn lights . . .”
Franklin Green in Franklin, Tenn.: “Each residence shall include
an attached garage for a minimum of two cars and a maximum
of three cars.”
Bent Tree West in Dallas, Texas: “Any garages, servants’ quarters,
storage rooms, or carports erected or placed on any portion
of said lot must be attached to the main structure . . . garages
shall provide a space for a minimum of two conventional automobiles.”
(Servants’ quarters?)
Penalties for breaking such rules can range from small fines
to foreclosure and loss of the home. Anti-HOA activists maintain
lengthy lists of cases in which families have been foreclosed
upon—like the Orlando, Fla., woman whose house was put up
for sale because she hadn’t paid $108 in association dues.
The Peach Creek Homeowners Association guidelines, which say
they “exist for the benefit of our community to help maintain
property values,” are typical, stating that a homeowner who
commits a fifth offense and owes $200 or more in fines is
subject to “legal action and/or forcible entry and eviction.”
In an apparent attempt to provide some reassurance, the document
speaks in the voice of Big Brother: “If a homeowner is found
in violation of a rule, regulation or guideline and fined,
remember this action is taken because the majority of homeowners
in Peach Creek consider it to be just and proper.”
State legislatures are starting to rein in HOAs that try to
ban environmentally responsible practices. At least 12 states
have adopted laws that guarantee the right to erect solar
equipment, although most of them permit HOAs to enforce “reasonable”
conditions.
Hawaii, for example, passed a law in 2005 that ensures a right
to solar energy. The legislation grew out of experiences like
that of Matthew Calloni of ’Ewa Beach, who fought a yearlong
legal battle with his HOA to put a solar water heater on his
townhouse. And a bill was introduced in the U.S. House of
Representatives in March that, if passed, will protect homeowners
nationwide from HOA solar bans.
Many HOA rules forbid panels anywhere but on the rear of the
house, flat against the roof. If the rear part of your roof
doesn’t face south or is in the shade, that’s tough. Now before
the Arizona legislature is a bill, HB 2593, that would prevent
HOAs from requiring solar panels to be positioned inefficiently
or in expensive locations.
Florida is one of the more progressive states in curbing HOA
abuses, with legislation guaranteeing citizens the right to
have solar panels, use clotheslines, and plant non-grass front
yards, overruling any neighborhood policies to the contrary.
Joanne Oliver of Ponce Inlet, Fla., was a highly successful
realtor in Miami for 15 years. I asked her to imagine that
she were showing a house in one of the upscale communities
where she had handled properties and that the house next door
sported solar equipment on the roof, a line full of laundry
in the rear, and a front yard covered with tall native plants.
Would that affect the price of the neighboring house she’s
trying to sell?
“Solar
panels,” she told me, “would not be a negative these days.
And a different kind of front yard, yes, I think people might
tend to go for that. That could catch on. But clotheslines!”—here,
she couldn’t stop laughing—“I can’t remember the last time
I saw a clothesline in Miami. That just doesn’t happen. Wait,
I have seen one clothesline recently—behind my mother’s house
in Ohio!”
The simplest way to stay out of trouble with HOA property
cops, of course, is to live in a neighborhood that doesn’t
have private covenants. Many communities have some restrictive
subdivisions, but also a much larger territory that remains
free. In fact, in much of America a “live-and-let-live” attitude
is still the rule. Lisa and Jason Spangler told me they’d
never had neighbors complain about their non-lawn in Austin.
In fact, said Jason, “Neighbors walking by often stop and
compliment our prairie flowers.” It was an overzealous HOA
bureaucracy, not the community itself, that tried to kill
their garden.
University of Arizona associate professor Paul Robbins says
that the key point of his book Lawn People, expected
out in June, is to show that the economy and the culture cannot
be meaningfully separated and that “it is this blurring that
so marks contemporary capitalist urban ecologies.”
As he described it, his work shows that “distinctions between
the meaning of our lives and the values of our properties
are often intermingled and difficult to distinguish. There
are clear tensions between our many contradictory desires;
we want to be good citizens, good consumers, and good environmental
stewards—a triumvirate that may simply be materially unachievable.”
Even homeowners who put being a “good consumer” a distant
third among those three desires will find that consumption
remains the housing industry’s No. 1 concern. When real-estate
values are considered as crucial as they are in the America
of 2007, it doesn’t matter what real people in real neighborhoods
prefer. Players who have a big stake in the game have little
tolerance for anything that smacks of green frugality.
Anti-environmental HOA restrictions are part of a larger problem:
the growing power of such “private governments” to control
people’s use of their own property. But if the tide of ecological
destruction is going to be turned, then flag-waving, don’t-tread-on-me
appeals to property rights, while helpful in some cases, will
turn out to be a big hindrance in others.
If a neighborhood wants to outlaw four-car garages or ban
daily lawn sprinkling during a water shortage, only the most
fanatical property-rights crusaders are likely to object.
But what if a more farsighted HOA decides to ban all toxic
lawn chemicals or silence the shriek of leaf blowers in the
fall (or maybe declare its streets off-limits to Hummers!)?
Many Americans would be happy to live under regulations like
those, but there are plenty of people who’d fight hard for
their right to blow leaves and spray weeds, just as hard as
we might fight for the right to put a “Let’s Get Out of Iraq”
sign in the front yard.
A struggle to defend private property is always sure to draw
broad support from across the political spectrum; however,
resistance by environmentally minded homeowners will have
to be mounted collectively and on the merits of the issues
themselves, not just as a fight for property rights.
Stan
Cox is a freelance writer living in Salina, Kan. This story
first appeared at AlterNet.org.
|
Site
Search 
