East Riverside's 'Equity Lens' Is Just a Fancy Way to Say 'Get Out'

So the city of Austin threw a little party at the old Tokyo Electron campus, which they bought for a cool $87 million—because nothing says "we care about affordable housing" like dropping nearly a hundred mil on a tech ghost town. Kids got their faces painted while their parents were subjected to what can only be described as a municipal version of a timeshare presentation. "Hey, wanna hear about how we're gonna displace you with a light rail and some Koozies?"

Soud Twal, a real estate agent who probably wears a suit made of hundred-dollar bills, says the area looks "night and day" from five years ago. Yeah, night and day—like how a punk show at a DIY venue is night and day from a corporate-sponsored 4,000-seat music hellhole run by AEG Presents. They're building that monstrosity at River Park, along with 5,000 units of "multifamily housing" that'll cost more than my entire collection of rare seven-inches. Twal claims developers don't want to push anyone out, but let's be real: when a single-family home in the neighborhood is listed for $3 million, the only people moving in are trust-fund babies and tech bros who think "gentrification" is a fancy coffee drink.

The city planners are trotting out their "equity lens" and "policy toolkit" with 46 whole tools! That's like bringing a plastic spork to a chainsaw fight. They're updating master plans from the early 2010s, which is about as useful as rereleasing a cassette tape in 2026—nostalgic, but nobody's actually listening. Meanwhile, Noé Elias from the neighborhood association calls it a failed experiment that's destroying the community. Preach, brother. They knocked down five apartment complexes to build this "transit-oriented" utopia, promising affordable units that'll probably be as scarce as a sober person at a punk show.

And the light rail? A $7.1 billion train that won't even be done until 2033. By then, the only thing left in East Riverside will be artisanal taco stands charging $15 for a basic bean burrito and condos named after punk bands they've never heard of. The city says they're gathering feedback, but let's be honest: they're just checking boxes before they pave over everything with concrete and corporate logos. As for that Tokyo Electron land? No plans yet, but I'm sure they'll figure out how to turn it into another overpriced mixed-use nightmare. Keep Austin expensive, am I right?