To fix our housing crisis, Jericho woman says attitudes need to change as much as zoning regulations

By Mollie Nicholson, for the Community News Service

JERICHO – Marjorie Minot wanted to do something about Vermont’s housing crisis. She found herself living alone in her four bed, four bath house, in a town with some of the lowest housing availability in Vermont.

“From an ethical point of view, I don’t think it’s right for one person to live in this much room,” Minot said.

She seriously considered subdividing her property so some other family could build a house there, but local opposition made her abandon that plan.

That’s when she reached out to HomeShare Vermont. The nonprofit matches homeowners with people seeking affordable housing. They can pay rent or, in some cases, live rent-free in exchange for their help with chores.

Meanwhile, nursing instructor Paul Kruglov needed to move to Vermont but couldn’t find housing. HomeShare Vermont matched the two last summer.

“I almost gave up.” Kruglov said. “This was a better situation than I could’ve ever imagined.”

The situation is better for Minot, too.

“It’s a big house. Now it feels friendlier to me,” Minot said. “The atmosphere is better.”

Vermont needs up to 36,000 new homes by 2029 just to keep up with demand, according to the Vermont Housing Needs Assessment. But not nearly enough housing is being built to meet that need.

Meanwhile, it’s even worse in Vermont’s most populous county. The vacancy rate in Chittenden County is just 1%, according to the U.S. Census Bureau.

Despite the obstacles she faced, Minot refused to give up on her personal mission to provide housing. Her journey reveals both challenges and potential solutions for Vermont’s housing crisis.

Too big for just one person

Minot’s home lies up a small hill at the end of a long driveway. From her front porch, she can see a beautiful, serene view of mountains and forests.

Minot spent years transforming what she describes as a fixer-upper. She collected ideas in scrapbooks for windows, layouts, and finishes before finally hiring an architect and contractor to bring her vision to life.

For the last 10 years, Minot lived alone in a house she felt was too big for just one person to fill. She initially planned to subdivide her 10-acre property to create additional lots for others to buy.

Beginning in 2023, she spent two years pursuing this option. She hired professionals, worked with the local zoning office, and spent thousands of dollars in the process.

Disapproval from neighbors led Minot to give up on creating new housing on her land.

“I wasn’t willing to have any more problems, so I dropped that project,” Minot said.

The experience left her frustrated, but determined to find another way.

A whirlwind pairing

Minot had been watching advertisements for HomeShare Vermont for about two years before calling them last summer.

HomeShare Vermont has been facilitating shared living arrangements for 43 years. According to their annual report, the organization matched 157 homeowners with 143 people looking for housing last year. Almost all those homeseekers, 92%, identify as low-income, as well as 70% of people sharing their homes.

Demand for HomeShare Vermont’s services has grown along with the housing crisis, said Ric Cengeri, Outreach and Communications Specialist for HomeShare Vermont.

“We’ve had pretty stunning growth, and the cost of housing has precipitated it,” Cengeri said.

“For people looking for affordable housing, this is a great option,” Cengeri said. “And then for people who own their homes, it’s a great way for them to be able to age in place, to earn extra income through rent.”

A HomeShare Vermont coordinator interviewed Minot for two hours to screen for any issues that could come up with a new roommate.

“They really go in depth about what could be the issues that would affect me or would make me not like this or what could go wrong,” Minot said. “I really appreciated that.”

Minot came prepared with the characteristics she wanted in a new housemate, including being comfortable with her exuberant dog, Bentley.

Meanwhile, Kruglov had been searching for housing since April. He’d been offered a job as a nursing instructor at Vermont State University, and his classes would start in August. He was running out of time and options.

“He was on the verge of leaving. He was going to turn the job down,” Minot said. 

Normally, HomeShare Vermont uses a two-week trial period for new roommates to see if the arrangement works. Minot waived it.

She met Kruglov on Zoom before he moved in, just one day before his semester started.

“I said I was comfortable meeting on Zoom because I’m pretty intuitive,” Minot said. “I also trusted the people who run the program.”

Now, Kruglov returns home from teaching classes late at night, meaning his schedule barely overlaps with Minot’s. The two typically see each other midday, sometimes going for hikes with Bentley or chatting over coffee.

When Kruglov visits his mother in Connecticut, she sends back food for Minot.

“The only challenge I’ve had is, his mother cooks too much for me.” Minot said. “She loves me. I don’t even know her.” 

Wealthy, educated and underhoused

Minot’s story plays out in Jericho, one of the wealthiest, highest-educated communities in Vermont, and one with an acute housing shortage.

Jericho has a median household income of $115,223, significantly higher than Chittenden County ($94,310) and Vermont ($78,024). Almost two thirds of Jericho residents hold at least a bachelor’s degree.

Meanwhile, Jericho has the third-highest median home value of any town in Chittenden County (only Charlotte and Shelburne are higher.) The town’s median home value of $469,700 exceeds the average in Chittenden County by about 20%.

These statistics on wealth are also indicators of capacity for new housing. Jericho potentially has the infrastructure, schools and financial stability to accommodate growth. Yet housing occupancy rates approach 99%, leaving virtually no available units for newcomers.

Several decades ago, Jericho was a growing bedroom community, less than a half hour commute from Burlington. Its housing was more affordable. Children filled the schools.

But starting in the 60s, town leaders began making it harder for new housing to be built. The lack of a large-scale sewage system also limited development.

Today, new housing being built in Jericho is often large, expensive, single-family homes. Town leaders are studying ways to address this, by adding a village wastewater system, for example.

In Chittenden County, the situation is just as dire. With a 1% vacancy rate, only about 700 homes are available for rent at any given time, far below the 5% rate considered healthy for a functioning market, according to Vermont’s 2025-2029 Housing Needs Assessment.

Changing our way of thinking

The Vermont Housing Needs Assessment estimates a need for between 24,000 and 36,000 additional homes statewide to raise vacancy rates, house the homeless and replace homes lost to flooding and other causes.

The effects of Vermont’s housing shortage is evident in Minot’s own family. 

“My son is 31, has his degree, has savings with his partner, and they’ve been looking for two years,” she said. “In my day, what they have saved would have bought more than this house.”

For Minot, the problem isn’t just about her own living situation: it’s about addressing the state’s housing crisis, starting at the community level. 

“Somewhere along the line in America, we’ve lost community,” she said. “If I knew Paul and I knew he needed a place to live, I would bring him in even without Home Share. That’s just who I am. But somewhere along the line, we’ve gotten frightened of each other.”

Minot remains active in town meetings, lobbying for rezoning and advocating for more housing development. 

“I hope that we’re going to ease up the zoning so that people can add moderately priced houses to our neighborhoods,” she said. “If changing our way of thinking isn’t the answer, I don’t know what the answer is.”

Via Community News Service, a University of Vermont journalism internship