
As the former Pasadena City Councilmember who proudly represented East Pasadena from 1987 to 1999, I watched with deep pride as our community grew into a cherished suburban oasis—family-oriented, tree-lined, with vibrant neighborhood shopping centers like Hastings Ranch and a sense of belonging that drew generations of residents seeking respite from the denser urban core. I fought hard during my tenure to protect East Pasadena’s unique character, ensuring that growth respected the low-rise scale, open spaces, and quiet streets that make this area special.
Today, as the city revises the East Pasadena Specific Plan (EPSP)—originally adopted in 2000—to accommodate California’s aggressive housing mandates, I am appalled and heartbroken by the proposed density increases that threaten to destroy everything we worked so hard to preserve.
These proposals—potentially pushing densities toward the General Plan’s maximum of 87 dwelling units per acre in transit-oriented zones, far exceeding the existing 48 to 60 units per acre near the Sierra Madre Villa Metro station—are not mere adjustments; they represent a reckless assault on East Pasadena’s soul. Proponents cloak them in the language of “sustainable growth” and “transit-oriented development,” but make no mistake: this is a blueprint for turning our suburban haven into an overcrowded urban outpost. Taller buildings—up to 45 feet or more in commercial areas like Hastings Ranch Center—with stepbacks that do little to hide the looming scale, and massive projects like the 550-unit Space Bank development at 3200 E. Foothill Blvd. or the 233-unit Panda Inn site, will overshadow single-family homes, erode the family-friendly ambiance, and replace community cohesion with transient, high-turnover populations. I know this neighborhood intimately; I walked its streets, listened to its residents, and defended its low-density character against similar pressures in the past. Seeing these proposals advance now feels like a betrayal of the very people I represented.
The traffic nightmare that will ensue is not hypothetical, it’s inevitable and infuriating. East Pasadena already suffers from choking congestion along Foothill Boulevard, the 210 Freeway, and local arterials, thanks to commuter flows and limited road capacity. Flooding the area with thousands of new residents—potentially absorbing a grossly disproportionate share of Pasadena’s 9,000-unit RHNA target—will unleash thousands more daily vehicle trips without meaningful road expansions or transit improvements that actually work for everyday life. Residents will face gridlock, longer commutes, skyrocketing accident risks, and poisoned air from endless idling cars. While the plan touts proximity to the Sierra Madre Villa station, let’s be honest: many families here rely on cars for groceries, schools, and jobs because Metro service remains woefully inadequate for non-commute trips. The pollution burden will fall heaviest on our children playing in yards, our seniors walking to shops, and our working families already struggling with quality-of-life declines. This is not progress; it is environmental injustice wrapped in green rhetoric.
Our infrastructure is buckling under the weight of even modest growth; imagine the catastrophe of these density hikes. Water systems, sewers, schools, parks, and emergency services in East Pasadena were never designed for explosive population surges. Projects like the 48-unit affordable housing on Halstead Street are just the beginning—add hundreds more units without massive, unfunded upgrades, and we’ll see overcrowded classrooms, chronic water shortages during droughts, strained fire response times, and parks turned into overflow parking. Community voices have begged for more green spaces, wider sidewalks, and pedestrian-friendly paseos, yet these modest asks pale against the tidal wave of development. Without billions in infrastructure investment, the city budget simply cannot deliver—this plan guarantees degraded services and plummeting livability for everyone who calls East Pasadena home.
Worst of all, this feels like East Pasadena is being singled out as the city’s “sacrifice zone” to satisfy state mandates while sparing more politically powerful or affluent neighborhoods. During my years on the Council, we strove for equitable growth; today, the EPSP update risks dumping the bulk of Pasadena’s housing burden here, on a peripheral, lower-to-moderate income area already vulnerable to gentrification from upscale condos and apartments. Why not spread the load more fairly across the city—through balanced infill in underutilized central districts or innovative low-impact designs elsewhere? The uneven approach breeds resentment, deepens divides, and ignores the lessons of fair representation that I fought to uphold.
As someone who dedicated over a decade of public service to protecting East Pasadena, I implore our current leaders: reject this shortsighted, destructive path. California’s housing crisis demands solutions, but not at the expense of obliterating a beloved community’s character, choking its streets with traffic, overburdening its infrastructure, and imposing an unfair share of pain on one neighborhood. Hear the residents’ cries—heed the history we built together—and demand truly balanced, sustainable alternatives that honor East Pasadena’s legacy rather than erasing it. Our families, our future, and our shared sense of place deserve nothing less.
Attorney William Paparian is a former mayor of Pasadena.











