Wednesday, July 10, 2013
A few weeks ago, in our GOOD Ideas issue (Vol. 11, No. 42), we published information that we hope will begin and forward conversations about race in the city. What prompted us was the extraordinary contentiousness of the recent mayoral race.
On page 17 of the issue, under the heading of "Racism Affects Families from Generation to Generation," we provided information that demonstrates the assertion of the title, using family wealth as the subject. Truth be told, the conclusions are startling, even to many of us who are well educated on the issue of racial disparities in wealth. Our graphic tried to simplify it through the example of three children, all born to low-income families before World War II.
The case studies came directly from the Annie E. Casey Foundation's "Race Matters Toolkit" PowerPoint slide show. To punctuate the outcome, we used data from an Urban Institute study, "Less Than Equal: Racial Disparities in Wealth Accumulation," published in April. On page three of the report is a graph illustrating average family wealth by race and ethnicity titled "The Racial Wealth Gap is Not Improving." In 2010, an average black family's wealth was $98,305, the graph shows. For an average Hispanic family, the figure was a slight increase, to $109,599. The figure increased six fold for white families, to $631,530. The data correlate to a February study from the Institute on Assets and Social Policy at Brandeis University, "The Roots of the Widening Racial Wealth Gap: Explaining the Black-White Economic Divide."
What the data prove is that it really does take money to make money. As the Urban Institute study points out—and the IASP study confirms—once a family has some wealth, it tends to grow exponentially.
"Wealth is not just for the wealthy. The poor can have wealth too—and that wealth can accrue over time or provide collateral for borrowing, giving families a way to move up and out of poverty," the UI study states. "A home or a car can offer benefits far beyond their cash value. And even a small amount of savings can help families avoid falling into a vicious cycle of debt when a job loss or financial emergency hits."
On the other hand, the Great Recession has hit those with little wealth hardest of all, exacerbating inequalities. "The 2007 - 09 recession brought about sharp declines in the wealth of white, black, and Hispanic families alike, but Hispanics experienced the largest decline. Lower home values account for much of Hispanics' wealth loss, while retirement accounts are where blacks were hit hardest," the study continues.
"Between 2007 and 2010, Hispanic families saw their wealth cut by over 40 percent, and black families saw their wealth fall by 31 percent. By comparison, the wealth of white families fell by 11 percent."
From a historical perspective, the Servicemen's Readjustment Act of 1944, aka the G.I. Bill, provided unprecedented opportunities for millions of American soldiers who served in World War II. From low-interest mortgages to tuition-free college educations, the bill propelled huge numbers of families into the wave of national prosperity in the following decades. More than any other social program, the G.I. Bill defined the American Dream—especially for low-income rural white families.
For many minority veterans—African Americans, Hispanics and American Indians among them—institutional racism barred them from taking advantage of those benefits. What good was free tuition in 1944 to a Mississippi Delta black man denied admittance to high-quality schools such as Ole Miss for another 20 years? For marginally educated men from communities with substandard segregated schools, were they even ready for college? And how could a low-interest mortgage benefit a man in a time when homes in newly sprouted suburbs were off limits, and banks routinely denied applications simply because of the color of his skin?
Granted, the bill leveled the economic playing field for some. "The empirical evidence suggests that World War II and the availability of G.I. benefits had a substantial and positive impact on the educational attainment of white men and black men born outside the South," wrote Sarah E. Turner and John Bound in "Closing the Gap or Widening the Divide" in 2002. "However, for those black veterans likely to be limited to the South in their educational choices, the G.I. Bill had little effect on collegiate outcomes, resulting in the exacerbation of the educational differences between black and white men from southern states."
Generations later, the entrenched inequality that prevented many minority vets from taking advantage of the G.I. Bill have had nearly intractable consequences for their families. Barred from colleges and universities, many have never grasped the importance of education. Denied home ownership, or homes in better parts of town, they had little opportunity to pass on wealth to their children. And wealth, in the form of home ownership, is the single-most important driver of economic equality, followed quickly by stable employment, income, education and inheritance.
All of that isn't my opinion or the JFP's attempt to shame white people. It's just what's true about inequality in America. And yes, the G.I. Bill is older than I am. But actions have consequences—Jim Crow racism reverberates to this day.
Vaclav Havel, the playwright and dissident who became Czechoslovakia's last president and the first president of the Czech Republic after the fall of the Soviet Union, wrote: "Isn't it the moment of most profound doubt that gives birth to new certainties? Perhaps hopelessness is the very soil that nourishes human hope; perhaps one could never find sense in life without first experiencing its absurdity."
He continued: "Hope is definitely not the same thing as optimism. It is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out."
Talking about race is a hopeful act. Even if it's hard or unexpected or profoundly uncomfortable, it just makes sense.