The sun sets on a chapter of community and support in Northeast Washington, D.C, as Anne Montgomery House prepares to close its doors after a decade of service. Founded by Sister Diane Roche of the Society of the Sacred Heart, this unique residence has been a beacon of affordability and camaraderie for young women pursuing education and careers in one of the nation’s most expensive cities.
The house, named after Sister Anne Montgomery, a longtime peace activist, offered more than just affordable housing. It provided a built-in community and support network, an increasingly rare living arrangement in today’s fast-paced world. As the house prepares to close, residents and friends reflect on the profound impact it has had on their lives.
Building a Community of Support
Sister Diane Roche, now 76, has always been drawn to bringing people together. Her journey has taken her from Haiti and the Democratic Republic of Congo to St. Louis and New Orleans, where she helped establish similar intentional living communities. In Washington, D.C, she saw an opportunity to address a practical problem: the soaring cost of living in the nation’s capital.
Anne Montgomery House offered residents a unique living arrangement. For a monthly fee of $500 for a shared room or $700 for a private room, young women could live in a supportive community while pursuing their goals. This affordability was crucial for many residents, as stipends for fellowships and graduate programs often fall short of covering living expenses in expensive cities.
“The stipend for a Ph.D. is something like $700 a month,” Roche said. “How are you supposed to support yourself on that?”
A Safe Haven in a Busy City
For residents like Abigail Bulman, Anne Montgomery House was more than just an affordable place to live. It was a community that transformed strangers into lifelong friends. Bulman, who arrived at the house in, found a place where she could share homemade dinners, conversations, and support with her housemates.
“I thought this was going to be a place that we pray in the morning, I had chores to do, and then I was going to go to bed here,” Bulman said. “I had no idea they were going to be people that now have been my lifelong friends.”
Mary Gardner, another former resident, echoed Bulman’s sentiments. Gardner joined the home in the summer of 2026 while interning on Capitol Hill. She found in Anne Montgomery House a safe haven where she could unwind after long, emotionally exhausting days.
“I’d come home venting and angry or upset,” Gardner said. “But Sister Clare Pratt, she just listened.”
A Disappearing Housing Model
The closure of Anne Montgomery House highlights a broader trend in the housing market. Across the country, soaring rents have made it increasingly difficult for students and early-career professionals to afford housing in major cities. Intentional living communities, like Anne Montgomery House, offer a unique solution to this challenge.
Ingrid Gould Ellen, a professor at New York University’s Wagner School of Public Service, notes that these communities can provide stability, mentorship, and community alongside affordability. However, they are not a large-scale fix for the nation’s housing shortage.
“In the late 19th century and early 20th century, a large share of young adults in U.S. cities lived in boarding houses,” Ellen said. “We don’t have that option anymore.”
The decline of boarding and rooming houses has left a gap in the housing market, one that intentional living communities like Anne Montgomery House have sought to fill. As cities continue to grapple with housing affordability, the need for such communities remains pressing.
The Last Night
As the sun sets over Anne Montgomery House on July 31, 2026, former residents and friends gather for one last celebration. The kitchen buzzes with activity as volunteers carry in trays of Creole dishes and barbecue. Old friends embrace, refill plates, and pick up conversations that feel as though they never ended.
Bulman joins Sister Roche as she leads the former residents in a traditional Greek circle dance, weaving hand-in-hand through the house as laughter echoes from room to room. “She definitely has the most moxie of any person I think I’ve ever met,” Bulman said of Roche.
Upstairs, Funmilayo Erinfolami packs the last of her belongings into cardboard boxes. Autographed photos of NASA astronauts hang above her desk, reminders of the dream that brought her halfway around the world to study space physics. “These women became my family,” she said.
As the house prepares to close, Sister Roche reflects on the community she has built and the friendships she has forged. “Home for me has to include community,” she said. “I will now have to work at building it somewhere else.”
