Mayor Adams’ Last-Minute Power Grab Blocks Housing for Needy Seniors

Paul Riverbank, 11/20/2025Mayor’s parkland move halts senior housing, igniting a battle over policy, process, and priorities.

To an outsider, it’s hard to grasp just how much was riding on the corner lot—at least until recently. Developers behind the Haven Green project spent years winding their way through New York City’s famously dense approval labyrinth. Multiple rounds of hearings, environmental studies, and the formality of the Uniform Land Use Review Procedure—ULURP, for those steeped in city process—were all in the rearview. Their plan was ambitious: 123 units of affordable housing for seniors, with nearly half earmarked for those formerly homeless. Every procedural box had a tick beside it.

Then, almost overnight and just as the current mayor was preparing to take a bow on his way out, City Hall made what some are calling a dramatic pivot. Mayor Eric Adams’ team announced that the garden would be declared official parkland—a maneuver the project’s backers saw as a direct blow, if not a breach of faith. The lawsuit came swiftly, with the developers arguing the administration hadn’t just interfered with a single project, but potentially undermined the entire system the city relies on to mediate its land-use battles.

This isn’t just inside baseball for bureaucrats and land-use lawyers. At its heart, the conflict is about how New York reconciles its ever-present housing shortage with the increasingly rare value of open urban space—a tug-of-war playing out in real time, and one for which the city has no easy blueprint.

Garden supporters, naturally, see Adams’ last-minute action as overdue protection for what’s seen as one of the neighborhood’s dwindling green sanctuaries. “A rare bit of breathing room,” one regular put it. The local group that tends it defends the designation as not only legal but necessary, a long-awaited response to years of neighborhood advocacy. They’re calling the lawsuit little more than a stall tactic—a “misguided attempt” to undo a properly executed public good.

Yet the developers and their legal team aren’t convinced the city stayed within the boundaries of proper procedure. They point out that, by transferring the lot’s control from the Department of Housing Preservation and Development over to Parks, the mayor’s office skipped the public process and map changes normally required to reclassify land. The timing, right on the heels of the victory by mayor-elect Zohran Mamdani—an outspoken supporter of the Haven Green vision—has left some observers with the distinct impression of a political chess move rather than a routine government handoff.

The first deputy mayor, Randy Mastro, wasn’t shy about pushing back on that claim. He called the legal challenge “frivolous,” arguing the park designation was entirely aboveboard. From his perspective—and that of City Hall—it’s a straightforward agency transfer, not a property sale or zone change, which would require the lengthy, public ULURP ritual.

Not lost on anyone watching is just how quickly the city has suggested alternative housing sites elsewhere. Among three they're now touting is one on Suffolk Street, which could, at least on paper, host more apartments than the disputed garden plot ever could. But that site—and the others—face their own entanglements: rezoning, community board negotiations, and the unwinnable race against time that haunts every major development in the city.

All of this leaves residents to work out exactly what story is being written here. For those who have rallied to keep the garden as open space, the argument is as much about quality of life as city process. For senior housing advocates, however, the view is less philosophical: they see the garden as a symbol, yes, but more importantly as a concrete solution to a citywide emergency, now stuck in legal limbo.

Stripped down, the fight splits on one question: after decades of policies designed to make land-use decisions predictable and public, can a mayor override the entire process at the eleventh hour? The complaint, blunt in its language, warns of a precedent “dangerous” enough that one stroke of the mayor’s pen might erase years of debate, turning community engagement into window dressing.

As the legal briefs pile up and the new administration signals its intent to reverse the last-minute order, what happens next at Elizabeth Street Garden will likely set the tone for how future development is contested—both in Nolita and across the city. The answer will say a great deal, not just about green space or affordable housing, but about whose voice matters most when New York’s future is being mapped block by block.

If you walk through Manhattan’s Nolita neighborhood, there’s a stretch along Elizabeth Street where, for years, lines drawn on maps and stories told in public meetings have collided. Here sits Elizabeth Street Garden: a quirky patch of urban green that’s been swept into what’s shaping up to be a pivotal legal and political skirmish.To an outsider, it’s hard to grasp just how much was riding on the corner lot—at least until recently. Developers behind the Haven Green project spent years winding their way through New York City’s famously dense approval labyrinth. Multiple rounds of hearings, environmental studies, and the formality of the Uniform Land Use Review Procedure—ULURP, for those steeped in city process—were all in the rearview. Their plan was ambitious: 123 units of affordable housing for seniors, with nearly half earmarked for those formerly homeless. Every procedural box had a tick beside it.Then, almost overnight and just as the current mayor was preparing to take a bow on his way out, City Hall made what some are calling a dramatic pivot. Mayor Eric Adams’ team announced that the garden would be declared official parkland—a maneuver the project’s backers saw as a direct blow, if not a breach of faith. The lawsuit came swiftly, with the developers arguing the administration hadn’t just interfered with a single project, but potentially undermined the entire system the city relies on to mediate its land-use battles.This isn’t just inside baseball for bureaucrats and land-use lawyers. At its heart, the conflict is about how New York reconciles its ever-present housing shortage with the increasingly rare value of open urban space—a tug-of-war playing out in real time, and one for which the city has no easy blueprint.Garden supporters, naturally, see Adams’ last-minute action as overdue protection for what’s seen as one of the neighborhood’s dwindling green sanctuaries. “A rare bit of breathing room,” one regular put it. The local group that tends it defends the designation as not only legal but necessary, a long-awaited response to years of neighborhood advocacy. They’re calling the lawsuit little more than a stall tactic—a “misguided attempt” to undo a properly executed public good.Yet the developers and their legal team aren’t convinced the city stayed within the boundaries of proper procedure. They point out that, by transferring the lot’s control from the Department of Housing Preservation and Development over to Parks, the mayor’s office skipped the public process and map changes normally required to reclassify land. The timing, right on the heels of the victory by mayor-elect Zohran Mamdani—an outspoken supporter of the Haven Green vision—has left some observers with the distinct impression of a political chess move rather than a routine government handoff.The first deputy mayor, Randy Mastro, wasn’t shy about pushing back on that claim. He called the legal challenge “frivolous,” arguing the park designation was entirely aboveboard. From his perspective—and that of City Hall—it’s a straightforward agency transfer, not a property sale or zone change, which would require the lengthy, public ULURP ritual.Not lost on anyone watching is just how quickly the city has suggested alternative housing sites elsewhere. Among three they're now touting is one on Suffolk Street, which could, at least on paper, host more apartments than the disputed garden plot ever could. But that site—and the others—face their own entanglements: rezoning, community board negotiations, and the unwinnable race against time that haunts every major development in the city.All of this leaves residents to work out exactly what story is being written here. For those who have rallied to keep the garden as open space, the argument is as much about quality of life as city process. For senior housing advocates, however, the view is less philosophical: they see the garden as a symbol, yes, but more importantly as a concrete solution to a citywide emergency, now stuck in legal limbo.Stripped down, the fight splits on one question: after decades of policies designed to make land-use decisions predictable and public, can a mayor override the entire process at the eleventh hour? The complaint, blunt in its language, warns of a precedent “dangerous” enough that one stroke of the mayor’s pen might erase years of debate, turning community engagement into window dressing.As the legal briefs pile up and the new administration signals its intent to reverse the last-minute order, what happens next at Elizabeth Street Garden will likely set the tone for how future development is contested—both in Nolita and across the city. The answer will say a great deal, not just about green space or affordable housing, but about whose voice matters most when New York’s future is being mapped block by block.