A Landlord’s Lament: The Uneasy Reality of Housing

Peace to the folk.

As it relates to the relationship between landlords and tenants, "unease" is the word I'd use to summarize it, at least personally—replacing a host of expletives I could use and, frankly, would rather use. Disgust in the tone? Surely. Warranted? Couldn't be more—especially when we unpack the circumstances that define, or rather, create the dynamic.

This doesn’t have to be a battle, a gladiator standoff, everyone waiting for first blood. But the way this relationship is structured, landlords and tenants are adversaries from inception.

We’re told to open our homes, to assist with the housing crisis, to show compassion. Yet, compassion seems to be a one-way street. Laws, protections, and public perception often conspire against landlords, favoring tenants—even when the tenants are blatantly in the wrong.

Landlords have been villainized for decades. We’re painted as faceless profiteers or heartless corporate entities, leeching off struggling tenants. But that narrative is as damaging as it is false. The vast majority of us are regular folk—retirees, working families, single moms—who invested in real estate not to exploit others but to secure our futures, maybe even leave something for our kids, to give them a leg up.

The very idea that someone gains residency just by staying in a place long enough, even without paying rent, is ridiculous on its face. It essentially demands that landlords take responsibility for someone else's life while that person assumes dominion over the landlord’s property—often with zero regard for the owner whatsoever. all to the tune of the law.

How could a law—better yet, why would a law—give that kind of power to someone who is actively, intentionally wronging another? Take the respective hats off—the roles and titles no longer exist—what's left is humanity. From there, we all know this is absolute bullshit.

Consider this: during COVID-19, eviction moratoriums protected tenants unable to pay rent due to financial hardship. But what about the tenants who could pay but simply chose not to? What about the landlords who relied on that income to stay afloat? One San Francisco landlord deferred rent for a tenant who claimed hardship. Months later, that tenant bought a new car and promptly ghosted them when the moratorium lifted.

This isn’t a rare story. It’s an all-too-common reality. Landlords are left to foot the bill for damages, unpaid rent, and legal fees while tenants walk away without accountability. The laws designed to protect tenants ignore one key truth: landlords are human, too. And when the moratorium was lifted, what happened? People who had grown accustomed to not paying rent suddenly had to pay again. The result? Combustible, to say the least.

Once upon a time, I rented to a tenant who turned my property into a marijuana grow house.

It wasn’t just the physical damage they caused—rewiring the property, violating zoning laws, and disrupting the peace of my otherwise quiet neighborhood. It was the blatant disregard for decency. I reported the issue to local agencies, even wrote my City Council representative—only to be met with indifference. In fact, more often than not, I got no response at all. Despite clear zoning violations and the fact that my tenant had no permission or license to cultivate cannabis, enforcement was nonexistent. Meanwhile, I was left to deal with the fines, legal fees, and repairs—all out of pocket after not receiving rent for over six months. Tell me, how is that justice?

Laws like the Tenant Protection Act of 2019 were intended to prevent abuse and ensure fair treatment of renters. The goal is noble. The execution is not. The law assumes landlords are inherently the bad actors—but oftentimes, nothing could be further from the truth. And what’s wild? It would be so easy to prove. Residency is a record. Why isn’t that the deciding factor? Not just the fact that someone is a tenant, but what kind of tenant they are. Simply replace "landlord" where "tenant" is in the previous sentence. Boom.

And when the landlord isn’t receiving rent, for any reason, do the banks holding the mortgage offer a reprieve? Can I send East Bay MUD a promissory note when they come collecting for water and garbage services—telling them my tenant decided not to pay? When the City of Oakland sends a property tax bill, do they care about my personal situation? Do people simply decide not to pay the electric bill? Their phone bill? The internet? No, because they'll turn them off. But when it comes to rent? The decision is made against landlords every time—because the law allows it.

If you ever find a "bad landlord", I can promise you they have a horror story or horror stories that hardened them. I'm not suggesting this should excuse behavior, more of a plea for it to be considered. Trust me, when they find a good tenant, because they exist as well, the relationship between each other is likely civil and decent because they understand the possibility of one another; a symbiotic play at work. I know this relationship as well, its beautiful ; an exchange where regard leads, for sure.

Even the process of evicting a tenant for just cause is a labyrinth of bureaucracy, delays, and expenses. By the time the court finally rules in favor of the landlord (if they do), the damage—financial and emotional—is already done. And insult to injury? We pay court fees for a situation we didn’t ask for or deserve.

Let’s be clear: bad landlords exist. Slumlords who exploit vulnerable tenants. People who neglect their properties. They deserve no protection whatsoever. I don't stand with landlords, necessarily, I stand with what's right, what's decent. In this regard, why doesn't everyone, including the laws? Why must the majority suffer for the sins of the few?

Landlords aren’t asking for favoritism. We’re asking for fairness. For laws that recognize our humanity and our rights as property owners. For accountability on both sides—not just for landlords, but for tenants as well. For policies that encourage cooperation, not contention.

Because if we continue down this path—if landlords are treated as expendable, as villains, as bottomless banks—then what incentive do we have to participate in solving the housing crisis? Who will provide housing when the system drives us out?

The narrative needs to change. Fair and decent should be the standard for everyone, regardless of the hat they wear. And maybe, just maybe, someone will care enough to listen. I appreciate your time. One Love

-Smirk

#oldheadenergy

Shelitha R. Campbell, DNP, MSN, BSN, APRN, FNP-BC, PHN, HMCT