The geographic restrictions placed on Chicago’s Black residents by the turn of the twentieth century

Historian Elaine Lewinnek in The Working Man’s Reward summarizes where Chicago’s Black residents lived in the late 1800s:

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By 1870 Chicago’s five thousand black residents lived in every ward of the city as well as numerous suburbs. Chicago had instituted some progressive policies during Reconstruction, including a civil rights law and, in 1874, an officially desegregated school system. After the collapse of Reconstruction, many blacks who had held political office in southern states relocated to Chicago in what observers called “the Migration of the Talented Tenth.” By 1893 Chicago’s black population was fifteen thousand, still just a small fraction of the more than million Chicagoans. Some blacks settled north of Chicago, near domestic service jobs in the suburb of Evanston, as well as on the near West Side. Many gathered in the neighborhood around Clark and Harrison Streets, on the south fringe of Chicago’s business district, an area that escaped the Great Fire of 1871 but was completely burned in 1874.

During the 1880s and 1890s, pushed by racism and pulled by their own preferences for living near black-led institutions, new black migrants were increasingly limited to Chicago’s Black Belt on the South Side. Extending just two blocks west and east of State Street, stretching south to Thirty-fifth Street and eventually Fifty-fifth, this narrow strip contained 56 percent of Chicago’s blacks in 1900, 78 percent, and 90 percent by 1930. (152-153)

This mirrors national trends. W. E. B. Du Bois discusses this in The Souls of Black Folk where he looks at what was possible during Reconstruction and then quickly disappears once that period ends. James Loewen argues in Sundown Towns that after the movement of Black residents all over the United States after the Civil War, many communities in the United States by the late 1800s restricted Black people and other people of color from staying or living in their towns.

And Chicago is a particularly noteworthy example of this because of how strong these geographic lines become. By the early 1900s, violence, formal and informal policies, and social interactions reinforce these boundaries in such a way that Chicago is one of the most racially segregated cities in the United States by the end of the century.

But these boundaries were not always there. They do not have to be there in the future. Lewinnek argues they were the result of particular actions and conditions, including the efforts of working-class homeowners.

The importance of state laws in promoting racial integration in Willingboro, New Jersey

In Perfect Communities: Levitt, Levittown, and the Dream of White Suburbia, historian Edward Berenson notes one important factor that led to racial integration in the Levittown community in New Jersey:

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What made Willingboro different was the existence of strong anti-discrimination state laws and courts willing to enforce them. Neither New York nor Pennsylvania had such laws when their Levittowns were being built. The New Jersey laws forced Levitt to drop his whites-only policy, and he decided that since integration was going to happen, it should unfold as smoothly as possible. Above all, Levitt wanted to avoid another situation like the one that greeted the Myerses in his Pennsylvania development, which had given Levitton a bad name both among white segregationists, who now saw Levittown’s whites-only promise as unreliable, and more liberal-minded people unwilling to live in a community known for racial antagonism. (156-157)

In his previous two communities, pressure brought by organizations and individuals was not enough to push Levitt to allow Black residents. But the conditions were different in New Jersey: the state had already acted. And the way it sounds above, Levitt wanted to both work with the different context and avoid bad publicity.

Thinking about residential segregation and housing issues more broadly, this approach – adopt state-wide policies – is still contentious today. Should a state be able to pass legislation that then limits the ability of local governments or developers to do what they want? Suburbanites tend to like local control; they move to the suburbs, in part, because the local ordinances and kinds of development can limit who might live there.

Earlier in the book, Berenson describes how Levitt said he limited his communities to whites because he was worried about how potential white buyers would respond to integrated communities. He might have been looking out for his bottom line but state legislation or policies could take a different or broader view.

The Chicago bungalow as a symbol of early 20th century success

Living in a Chicago bungalow became a symbol of a successful life:

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The humble bungalow made it possible for Chicagoans to realize the American Dream of home ownership. In the first part 20th century, between 80,000 and 100,000 bungalows were built in Cook County. The majority went up between the end of World War I and the beginning of the Great Depression, making many about 100 years old. Many were home to first-generation immigrants. They formed an arc around the city’s center known as the Bungalow Belt.

It “stretches all around the city, from South Shore to Marquette Park, out west to Austin to the Northwest Side and West Rogers Park,” Dominic Pacyga, a Columbia College urbanologist, told the Tribune in 2000…

In 1997, a Tribune declared: “Bungalows Were Better Than A Place To Live. They Told The World Who You Were” over a story that declared the humble home to be “an idea, a symbol, a trophy, a style, an approach to life.”…

Chicago’s bungalow builders left that idea behind, while appropriating the concept that the middle class deserved homes with little artistic touches, like those the wealthy took for granted: leaded window glass, red or yellow brick with checkerboard patterns, bay fronts either octagonal, squared or rounded.

Three quick thoughts:

  1. This highlights the coming and going of residential architectural styles. This design emerged in a particular era, took off, and now has been replaced by other designs that address the wants of residents and builders and that also became symbols of joining the middle class. (See the suburban ranch home or the McMansion.)
  2. How exactly does a particular home style become a status symbol? The article hints at the role of developers (selling the image that goes with this particular home), politicians (promoting the style and protecting the homes in later decades), and residents. Could we add in famous cultural works that take place in or highlight or celebrate the bungalow? The role of zoning officials and historic preservationists?
  3. How many of these homes initially were owned by white residents of Chicago and how much has this changed over time? How much did bungalows contribute to long-standing patterns of residential segregation and differences in wealth among homeowners?

Extended settlement to Gautreaux case addressing Chicago public housing discrimination

Public housing discrimination has a long history in Chicago. The courts just granted an extension to the settlement to a 1966 case addressing the issue:

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The case, Gautreaux v. Chicago Housing Authority, was a class-action lawsuit brought on behalf of public housing resident and community organizer, Dorothy Gautreaux, and it sought to end systemic racial discrimination in Chicago’s public housing. The lawsuit alleged CHA discriminated by concentrating poor black residents in high-rises in segregated communities and not allowing them the opportunity to move into public housing communities in white neighborhoods. The case went all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court, which sided with the residents and determined that they were being isolated to specific neighborhoods.

Attorneys for both sides negotiated a settlement in 2019, with CHA agreeing to continue developing scattered site housing and engage in discussions on how to improve the housing voucher mobility program. The settlement also called for CHA to provide a detailed schedule to complete mixed-income housing complexes, and create early learning childhood development programs at four existing public housing developments. The original settlement was to last for five years, and if CHA failed on its promises, it could return to court. 

Both CHA and the plaintiffs returned to court recently , as they agreed there were outstanding requirements to be met at six development projects, according to a joint motion filed with the court on Tuesday…

According to the new terms of the settlement agreement, CHA will have one to three years, depending on the project, to complete certain development plans, including for Altgeld Gardens, Lakefront Properties, Madden/Wells, Rockwell Gardens, Stateway Gardens and Robert Taylor Homes. Both parties did agree, however, that CHA had met its obligations to build public housing in areas outside segregated Black neighborhoods, so the housing authority will no longer be subject to court oversight for that part of the agreement.

In a country pretty opposed to public housing, I hope the extension leads to more housing opportunities.

This is also a reminder of the long legacies of housing discrimination and residential segregation. The kind of housing discrimination in public housing experienced in Chicago in the mid-twentieth century may not be legal now but it has effects nearly six decades later. And court orders and settlements may be the most direct ways to lead to change. (See also the Mount Laurel case in New Jersey) compared to legislation (see difficulties in Illinois and other states).

Creating new communities to better benefit from their tax money paid (and support whiter, wealthier residents)

Residents of several places in the South have worked in recent years to form new communities:

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The Louisiana Supreme Court last month cleared a path for the creation of a new city, St. George, after a prolonged legal battle over the feasibility of the city and its implications for tax revenue.

St. George would take almost 100,000 residents away from East Baton Rouge Parish, and critics say it will deplete the parish of the resources from this wealthier, whiter community…

White fortressing, and other kinds of opportunity hoarding, concentrates resources — such as well-funded public schools, access to local revenue and zoning control — among white communities that are already economically and politically advantaged. Meanwhile, they also constrain access to opportunity among people of color.

Proponents of the new city in Louisiana argue that this is a move towards fairness, rather than isolation. On their website, they state: “St. George’s taxpayers provide two-thirds of the revenue to the East Baton Rouge Parish government with only one-third of that government’s expense in return. Incorporating a city would reverse this unjust circumstance to an extent.” This has been a relatively common argument among similar movements since the post-war era, something Princeton University historian Kevin Kruse documents in his work around white flight in Atlanta. When residents of the Buckhead neighborhood in Atlanta were advocating for secession in 2022, they also argued that they were “not getting back in services what they [were] paying in city taxes.”

These movements have persisted for decades, and they are not slowing down. Georgia has added 11 new cities around Metro Atlanta since 2005, most of which are affluent white communities that broke away from majority-Black/nonwhite counties. Last month, residents of a wealthy, majority-white community in Gwinnett County, the northern suburbs just above Atlanta, voted to approve forming the new city of Mulberry, just as the county has become majority-Black.

Several thoughts in response:

  1. This has happened in the United States for a long time in many different forms. These forms include: limited annexation expansion of Midwestern and Northeastern cities starting in the late 1800s as suburbanites no longer wanted to be part of the big city; white flight, urban renewal, and federal support for suburbanization in the mid-twentieth century; formal and informal policies and actions to enforce residential boundaries; and a persistent presence of residential segregation.
  2. Such actions do not reckon with the broader and longer-term consequences of inequalities across places. Those who live in a wealthier community may experience a particular day-to-day life but they are not fully insulated from the concerns of the broader metropolitan region or society at large. Do communities have responsibilities to their residents and to society more broadly?
  3. I wonder how many Americans would agree that what they pay in taxes should roughly return to them in similar amounts from the government.

Chicago as a laboratory – for residential segregation?

A quote discussing a new documentary about residential segregation in Chicago reminded me of imagery used by sociologist Robert Park about seeing a city as a laboratory for study:

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“This documentary really shows that Chicago is not just a place where segregation happened, but in some ways the intellectual and bureaucratic headquarters for thinking about how to carry it out,” Brown said. “It was a real brain trust in Chicago starting at the very turn of the 20th century, thinking about the problems that Blacks posed for real estate values and coming up with different ways of thinking about that as salesmen from the realtor point of view, as an intellectual problem being studied at UChicago, and the way the different neighborhood associations were also trying out different ways of keeping Blacks out of their neighborhoods.”

In other words, at official, neighborhood, and organizational levels, Chicago worked out how to practice residential segregation. Over the years, Chicago has ranked high on measures of residential segregation. A quick visual of the situation – such as a dot map showing race and ethnicity of residents – shows the differences in residences in Chicago today. And did other places follow the lead of Chicago?

I look forward to seeing this documentary.

Shining a light on suburban communities facing significant challenges

A review of a new book provides a reminder that not all suburbs are wealthy enclaves with many top-notch amenities:

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Herold opens his book by visiting his hometown, a Pittsburgh suburb called Penn Hills. In many ways, the story of this particular suburb captures it all. When Herold’s family moved here in 1976, the average home price in 2020 dollars was $148,000. Now it’s $95,000. Herold knocks on a door just down the street from where he grew up, and there meets Bethany Smith, who has recently purchased the house with her mom. She’s single and Black and undaunted, raising a son, Jackson, for whom she wants the absolute best, which means finding a well-resourced, nurturing school and buying a home, an investment that will serve as a foundation to building wealth. (She’s also gotten priced out of her gentrifying neighborhood in Pittsburgh.)

But Bethany has walked into a mess of a town. Signs of wear and tear are everywhere: most notably, a collapsing sewer system and a school district that is $9 million in debt. According to Herold, the town didn’t invest in infrastructure improvements, kicking any needed repairs down the road. Financial mismanagement is everywhere. Enrollment in the schools has steeply declined. White families like Herold’s have moved out; Black families have moved in. It’s a pattern, Herold writes, repeated in suburb after suburb. It’s what I witnessed in Cicero with Latino families. Herold poses the question that drives his reporting: “How are the abundant opportunities my family extracted from Penn Hills a generation earlier linked to the cratering fortunes of the families who live there now?”

We have, Herold suggests, been looking directly at this problem—and either haven’t acknowledged what’s occurring or, worse yet, don’t care. He points to Ferguson, Missouri, an inner-ring suburb just outside St. Louis, where in the summer of 2014 a white police officer shot and killed Michael Brown, a Black teen. In the news coverage that followed, people were shocked to learn that more than 20 percent of the town’s operating revenue came from fees, fines, and court summons collected from the town’s mostly Black residents, a result of aggressive policing. This was because Ferguson had gone the way of so many inner-ring suburbs…

Charles Marohn, whom Herold describes as “a moderate white conservative from Minnesota,” is the one to lay out Ferguson’s decline to him. According to Herold, Marohn had a hand in building suburbs, but he has since had an awakening. Marohn suggests that what’s happened in places such as Ferguson and Penn Hills is the equivalent of a Ponzi scheme. It’s “the development version of slash-and-burn agriculture,” he tells the author. “We build a place, we use up the resources, and when the returns start diminishing, we move on, leaving a geographic time bomb in our wake!”

I have not read the book. As someone who studies suburbs, here are the first four thoughts that come to mind:

  1. Inner-ring suburbs are a unique type of suburb. Right next to a big city, they often look similar to urban neighborhoods (denser buildings), have similar demographics to cities (more residents of color), and can face similar issues as cities. They are suburban but day to day life may not look like that of sprawling subdivisions of recently-constructed single-family homes. That white residents have left these suburbs and these communities may struggle for resources is true. I recommend Bernadette Hanlon’s book Once the American Dream: Inner-Ring Suburbs of the Metropolitan United States.
  2. Suburbs as a whole and as individual communities experience different waves of development. Inner-ring suburbs were some of the first suburbs in the United States (and some were annexed into the big city). The issues described in this review also face other suburbs who may have had a particular character for decades. Communities change as both external forces and internal forces are applied to the suburb.
  3. The review highlights ongoing residential segregation patterns in suburbs. White residents leave suburbs they do not wish to stay in.
  4. Sharing revenues and resources across metropolitan regions and across suburbs could happen but it is likely very unpopular as suburbanites like the idea of local government serving their needs.

Instituting racial covenants for whole neighborhoods outside of Kansas City

Developer J.C. Nichols helped popularize the implementation of racial covenants for whole suburban subdivisions:

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Also known as covenants, they’d existed for decades, typically as an agreement between a developer and buyer on a single lot, proving unpopular to Americans who didn’t want to be controlled on their own property. But Nichols sensed he could foster long-term stability, which would be profitable for him and for homeowners. He initiated restrictions on entire neighborhoods, placing them on the land before any lots were sold—a private zoning system before municipal zoning was widespread. He’s credited as the first developer to emphasize the covenants for middle-class areas and to make them self-renew after periods of 25 to 40 years unless a majority of residents objected, ensuring they’d essentially last forever. For enforcement, he set up homeowners associations.

Nichols’ restrictions started with a few sentences on neighborhood plat documents and eventually ran for a few pages. They set minimum prices for home construction, mandated single-family housing and banned apartments, required a specified amount of space on the fronts and sides of homes, and regulated routine housing elements like chimneys, trellises, windows, vestibules, and porches.

There were also racial restrictions that barred Black residents from owning or renting homes. An early billboard for Nichols’ Country Club District development described the area as “1,000 Acres Restricted.” Newspaper ads claimed that Nichols’ neighborhoods blocked “all undesirable encroachments” and promised that “complete uniformity is here assured.”…

Nobody had seen a swath of suburbia as vast his neighborhoods, which comprised the Country Club District: By the 1940s there were more than a dozen contiguous upper-class and middle-class subdivisions filled with bubbling fountains, tree-lined vistas, and cul-de-sacs, providing homes for as many as 50,000 people across two states. Many subdivisions were buffered by parks and golf courses, and they were all tied together with restrictive covenants. It was the “American’s domestic ideal,” opined a visitor from the New Republic.

Nichols wasn’t the only builder applying covenants. Their use accelerated after 1910, imposing segregation and strict land-development rules across the country. But he was their most prominent proselytizer, promoting their spread through speeches and articles and in leadership roles with national real estate organizations. Nichols’ covenants in Sunset Hill and Mission Hills, two of his poshest neighborhoods, were said by his company to have been copied in more than 50 cities.

Developers, officials, residents, and others developed and put into practice a number of measures to keep people out of white suburban subdivisions. Today, these measures tend to be more economic and zoning-based with fewer explicit references to race and ethnicity. But, as noted above, the outcomes are clear: the suburbs were segregated by race and ethnicity.

Imagining St. Louis as the capital of the US

It is fascinating to consider (1) a different capital in the United States in the center of the country and (2) a different center to the Midwest:

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In some ways, Arenson says, St. Louis was at the heart of these questions. Geographically, it was located where North, South and West came together. It had been a slave state, but had not seceded. It was central to many railroad lines. And it was growing at a remarkable place—it would rise from the country’s 24th most populous city in 1840 to the fourth biggest in 1870.

No one was more convinced of the importance of St. Louis than local businessman and booster Logan Uriah Reavis. Reavis was a remarkable man, with a remarkable appearance. He wore a long, messy red beard and walked bent over a cane due to a childhood illness. Born in Illinois in 1831, he failed in his early career as a schoolteacher “when the students ridiculed him ceaselessly,” according to Arenson’s book. In 1866, he arrived in St. Louis intent on starting a newspaper and elevating the image of his adopted hometown.

Reavis wasn’t the first to suggest the city as a new capital for the nation. In 1846, St. Louis newspapers claimed that the move would be necessary to govern a country that grew significantly in size after the end of the Mexican-American War. But Reavis may have been the most outspoken supporter of the cause. He presciently envisioned a United States stretching not just out to California but up to Alaska and down to the Gulf of Mexico. And he saw St. Louis as the obvious place for the government of this mega-United States: “the great vitalizing heart of the Republic.” In contrast, he wrote, Washington was a “distant place on the outskirts of the country, with little power or prestige.”…

In response, between 1867 and 1868, three House representatives from the Midwest proposed resolutions to move the capitol toward the middle of the country. As historian and educational publisher Donald Lankiewicz writes for History Net, the first two of these stalled in the Ways and Means committee. But a third, introduced by Wisconsin Representative Herbert Paine in February 1868, came to a vote on the floor. Eastern congressmen saw the proposal to move the seat of government to somewhere in the “Valley of the Mississippi” as a joke. But it shocked them with the amount of support it received, ultimately failing by a vote of just 77 to 97.

This story sounds very American: local boosters combined with an expanding frontier and disorder after the Civil War to produce a vision for a new capital in a booming city. Even though this did not come to fruition, it sounds like there was a short window in which is could have happened. And then what would have happened to Washington, D.C., one of the most important cities today?

I also cannot help but contrast this to the fate of St. Louis after this era. I recently showed my urban sociology class the documentary The Pruitt-Igoe Myth. This documentary puts the infamous public housing project in the context of a city that peaked in population in 1950, lost residents in white flight, and is racially segregated. Add this to the competition with Chicago for the center of the Midwest and St. Louis might be a great story of a city that did not live up to its lofty dreams.

Data on whether Americans are moving due to politics

NPR reports on Americans moving to new locations because of politics. Here is some of the evidence presented:

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Residents have been fleeing states like California with high taxes, expensive real estate and school mask mandates and heading to conservative strongholds like Idaho, Tennessee and Texas.

More than one of every 10 people moving to Texas during the pandemic was from California, according to the Texas Real Estate Research Center at Texas A&M University. Most came from Southern California. Florida was the second biggest contributor of new Texans…

Political scientist Larry Sabato posted an analysis on Thursday that shows how America’s “super landslide” counties have grown over time.

Of the nation’s total 3,143 counties, the number of super landslide counties — where a presidential candidate won at least 80% of the vote — has jumped from 6% in 2004 to 22% in 2020…

Bishop’s book explains how Americans sorted themselves by politics, geography, lifestyle and economics over the preceding three decades. Sitting in a Central Texas café, Bishop says that trend has only intensified in the 14 years since the book’s publication.

I have read a lot of similar stories in recent years. All of this data, at face value, seems to make some sense: population flows from one set of states to another, the concentration of politically similar people in certain locations, and an ongoing sorting by politics.

At the same time, I am not completely convinced that it is politics driving moves. How often does a person, family, or business move solely because of politics or politics is the clear #1 reason? Politics might factor in an ultimate decision but I suspect jobs, retirement, and the locations of family are more often prime movers and/or large factors. Plus, the organization or sorting or residents has been going on for decades due to race/ethnicity (see the example of the suburbs) and social class (again, the suburbs). And could we consider how political patterns are related to race and class?

We can always find at least a few people who will describe moves undertaken to be closer to their political allies. I am not sure we are at the point where many are moving primarily or solely because of politics.