Classism in the Suburbs: Why Opposing High-Density Housing Hurts Our Communities

Students have been living in tents outside West Valley College, in order to learn. But yes, let’s oppose more accessible housing.

Driving by my community college in Saratoga, CA, I noticed signs protesting the construction of high-density housing on Chester Street. The signs shouted warnings about how such a development would “destroy the neighborhood.” As I took in this sentiment, I couldn’t help but feel struck by how deeply snobby and selfish it seemed. This wasn’t just an aesthetic complaint—it felt like an effort to keep people out.

Living in a community like Saratoga, with its stunning landscapes and top-tier primary schools, comes with privilege. But is this privilege a reason to exclude others? Let’s take a closer look at what’s behind the opposition to high-density housing and the classist undertones that make it so harmful to our communities. When residents argue against high-density housing, they often cite practical concerns: protecting property values, reducing congestion, or preserving the neighborhood’s “character.” While these reasons seem innocent enough, they often mask deeper, more exclusionary biases.

For instance, the idea of “destroying the neighborhood” raises a question: What exactly is being destroyed? The community’s sense of exclusivity? The socioeconomic status quo? There’s an underlying message in these objections that high-density housing—and the people it would bring in—don’t belong. This perspective can send a strong message of economic elitism: that only people who can afford single-family homes at market rates deserve to be part of the community.

Hakone Gardens, in Saratoga.

This type of resistance to housing diversity has a classist impact. By fighting against high-density or affordable housing, affluent communities effectively shut out middle-income families, essential workers, students, and retirees. The result is a system where only those with the means to purchase high-value homes can live nearby, creating a socially and economically homogenous community.

Blocking high-density housing doesn’t just affect the people who can’t live there; it also hurts the community itself. When only certain types of people can afford to live in a neighborhood, it limits diversity in every form—social, economic, and cultural. These affluent communities become bubbles, lacking the richness that a mix of backgrounds brings to a neighborhood. They miss out on the chance to create connections across differences and to share resources in ways that strengthen the entire community.

Contrary to popular fears, high-density housing isn’t a threat. In fact, it brings many benefits. It reduces commute times, allowing people to live closer to their jobs. It supports local economies, as more people shop, eat, and spend in the area. It also enhances cultural diversity, exposing residents to new perspectives and backgrounds. High-density housing can even attract more funding for public services and amenities, as a broader tax base supports schools, parks, and infrastructure.

Inclusive housing policies are not about diminishing community values; they’re about enriching them. When people of different income levels can live, work, and grow together in a community, it creates resilience. The neighborhood doesn’t lose its character—it gains strength and depth.

If we peel back the practical concerns and examine what’s really driving opposition to high-density housing, it’s often about comfort, privilege, and control. But should we really prioritize comfort over inclusivity? Privilege over accessibility? When we look at it this way, the argument becomes a moral one. Who deserves a place in our community, and who doesn’t? Do we have a responsibility to make room for people of all backgrounds, or should we maintain a divide that only benefits a select few? Making space for others, literally and figuratively, is not about tearing down communities but about building them up.

High-density housing in a place like Saratoga won’t destroy the neighborhood. What it can do, though, is challenge us to rethink what a neighborhood should be. Rather than clinging to exclusivity, we can foster communities that welcome diversity and invite growth. A true community doesn’t gate itself off from others; it opens its doors, knowing that the best neighborhoods are those that reflect a variety of people, backgrounds, and incomes.

If we want to live in a community that reflects our best values, we need to question our own privilege and biases and consider what it would mean to share our neighborhood with others. Instead of rejecting high-density housing, let’s recognize it as an opportunity to make our communities better, fairer, and more inclusive for everyone. As a student parent who is constantly searching for viable housing, this issue strikes close to home.