Not Making The Grade -Teachers have a tough time trying to live in San Francisco

When Steve Bush joined Galileo High School’s English Department in 1999, he already had a picture of what the future might hold for him.

by Carol Lloyd, special to SF Gate
Tuesday, March 12, 2002
©2002 SF Gate

"I replaced a young teacher who couldn’t afford to be a teacher anymore," says the charismatic, smooth-scalped Bush, his oversize shirt lending him an air of homeboy chic. As time passed,
Bush watched it happen again and again: The young teachers who didn’t own homes or have longtime rent-controlled apartments couldn’t afford to live here and moved out of the profession —
or out of the area.

"I quickly realized there are two tiers of San Francisco public school teachers," he said. "The ones that have been around since the 1970s, who own their own homes, and the veritable tsunami
of new teachers who stay for two years and then go."

Now, after teaching English and theater at McAteer High School for the past two years, he, too, is facing his fate as a member of tier two. After attempting to live in one of the most expensive
cities in the nation on a school-district teaching salary that ranks as one of the lowest in the state, he’s ready to throw in the towel. (The starting salary for a San Francisco teacher is about
$38,000.) But instead of moving into business or banking or another more lucrative field, he’s giving up on San Francisco. Next year, he’ll move back home to Louisville, Ky., where he looks
forward to the prospect of living a life with fewer financial stresses and maybe even buying a house — something he can’t begin to contemplate in his current situation.

"We’ve been looking online, and it’s really disturbing," Bush says. "You can buy a five-bedroom remodeled Victorian for $175,000 in Louisville, and this is in a neighborhood with an
alternative movie house." After pausing to contemplate his future, wearing an ironic grimace, he adds, "I’m going to buy a house with a porch where I can sit and throw stones at the neighbor’s
dogs, just like my father did."

Sitting in his little single-family home, his 1-year-old daughter giggling with his wife in the other room, one can almost imagine Bush as a teacher anywhere in the USA. He seems to enjoy a
middle-class, if modest, lifestyle that includes clean new clothes and simple furniture.

Yet this good life is an illusion he’s been able to maintain only by employing economy and compromise. Ever since his landlady made it clear there is not enough square footage in their
$1,450-per-month one-bedroom Dolores Park apartment to accommodate their expected baby, they’ve been renting a house for $2,000 in San Bruno, a town he has no special affection for.
("We’ve got a Wendy’s on the corner. Do I have to pay two grand to live with a Wendy’s on the corner?") And it’s his wife’s work as a freelance graphic designer and copy editor that really allows
them to eke out the sparest living.

"Every month, I give my wife my paycheck," he says. "She pays the rent and my student loans, then she gives me back $106."

Of course, the story of the ordinary family run out of San Francisco because of high housing costs is not a new one. But Bush is part of a particularly endangered breed — one that city and state
officials have specifically targeted for special help. Not only is he a public school teacher, he also is committed to working in what are known as "low performing" schools. Translated into plain
English, this means those schools that have become dumping grounds for children with academic challenges and socioeconomic disadvantages — the schools where we put kids the rest of
society has already written off.

Traditionally, it’s been more difficult for school districts to retain the teachers in these schools because the job, while paying just the same as other teaching positions in more high-performing
schools, has additional stresses and fewer perks. Since the parents of children attending low-performing schools rarely have the education or time to fund-raise or volunteer to improve their
children’s educational experience, the teacher ends up working in an environment with less support than other schools. And because many of these campuses have histories of violence and
drugs, teacher burnout tends to be especially high.

So, even as Bush has seen his colleagues escape out the back door long before their student loans are paid, he’s also watched city and state officials launch incentive programs that attempt to
solve the needs of both teachers and school districts — housing for the former and stable school faculties for the latter.

One program, funded by the state and administrated by San Francisco’s Mayor’s Office of Housing and called the "Mortgage Credit Certificate Program for Teachers," offers a tax break to
teachers who work in low-performing schools and buy homes in San Francisco. In addition, the city offers a $7,500 loan that is forgivable if the teacher stays at the low-performing school for five
years.

What, exactly, does this mean in dollars and cents? If a teacher buys a $400,000 home (which means, in San Francisco, a two-bedroom condo in a modest neighborhood), puts 5 percent
($20,000) down, uses the forgivable loan to pay part of the $12,000 closing costs and takes out a $380,000 loan at 6.5 percent interest, he or she will have a monthly mortgage payment of
about $2,400.

At the end of the first year, because the majority of the mortgage payments will go toward reducing the interest, the teacher will have paid about $27,000 in interest. According to the program’s
policies, the participant can get a dollar-for-dollar rebate on 20 percent of the interest paid, so, for the first year, the teacher would save $5,400 in taxes.

In effect, this reduces the month mortgage by $450, so the teacher’s payments are closer to $1,950 per month. Every year, that amount would get a little lower, eventually reducing the benefits
to zero — but by then, presumably, the teacher would be receiving raises and paying off student loans, thereby offsetting the extra expense.

Sound like a pretty good deal? Well, in another city or decade, it would be. The problem is that for most teachers, this deal isn’t nearly enough help to allow them to buy a house.

Mati Bates, who administers the program for the Mayor’s Office of Housing, says that though the agency has enough funding to approve about 40 loans a year, so far it’s completed only 1
approval. "The problem is that even with our program, it’s difficult for teachers to qualify for loans of $380,000 to $430,000" — the maximum allowable under the program.

Bates says many teachers are interested, but in the end, only a few eligible teachers can really afford to buy. "I get calls every day," she says. "Either they’re not eligible for the program,
because they’re not permanent employees or they don’t work at one of the targeted schools. And sometimes, when I tell them the maximum purchase price, I can hear their mouths drop. It’s
like they can’t ever imagine being able to afford something like that."

Other aid programs also exist, but many have the same flaw: The teachers can’t really afford the help. For instance, though S.F. teachers (along with police officers and firefighters) get some
preference on Treasure Island housing, the apartments are only marginally under market rate, and the isolation of living on an island without a grocery store makes owning a car all but
essential.

For Bush, these programs were no help at all. At one point, he was told about a new affordable-housing development with units that would be going for a rock-bottom price in the mid- to high
$300,000s. The catch was that the housing was on a street in Bayview where gangs like Big Block and the West Mob transact their business. "How can I put it?" Bush says. "It was the epicenter
of urban discord."

Despite the ineffectualness of such programs, Bush doesn’t fault the city. "There’s nothing they can do," he says. "That’s what the market demands. It would be nice if teachers could be paid
$50,000 to start, but that’s not going to happen."

In the end, what is San Francisco’s loss is Louisville’s gain. Bush has already applied to work in the toughest school in the district (where, he notes, he’ll earn about the same salary), and he
seems to relish the prospect of making a difference in his students’ lives. "No one expects anything of these kids," he says, "but if I can let them know that their lives are not over at 14, that their
English teacher expects more of them than wallowing in mediocrity …"

When asked if he, too, might become a victim of burnout, he acknowledges that his work is not for everyone, but for those who love the challenge, it’s the greatest job in the world. "I love my
job," he adds. "The pay’s not good, but not many jobs give the opportunity for greatness. Teaching offers the opportunity for greatness every day, if it’s only to get 60 percent of your students to
turn in their homework." He shrugs. "With teaching comes a degree of vanity. I want to teach kids that their education is their responsibility and that it’s the most important thing they’ll ever do."

Ironically, Bush won’t exactly be leaving his current students behind, because his students will also be leaving him. This year, McAteer, notorious as the worst high school in San Francisco, is
expected to be closed, ostensibly because of low test scores and other factors suggesting the school’s wholesale failure. But Bush believes that despite such explanations, there’s also an
economic reason as well — one that’s directly related to the high cost of housing.

"Whatever anyone says, one of the big reasons for closing McAteer is the fact that there are only about 500 students enrolled there," he says. "And this is because there are fewer families in
San Francisco. Why? Because they can no longer afford to live here."

And so it goes: Like teacher, like student, and like so many other residents of the city who have had to move on, the high cost of owning a home takes its toll. Thus the face of San Francisco
changes, one U-Haul at a time.

Carol Lloyd is currently at work on a book about Bay Area real estate. She is teaching a new class on buying your first home in the Bay Area starting in April. Author of a best-selling career counseling book for
creative people, "Creating a Life Worth Living," she is also teaching a workshop based on the book starting March 19. For more information, email her at [email protected].

©2002 SF Gate

URL: http://www.sfgate.com/columnists/lloyd/