The Loud Racism of Gated Communities and HOAs
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The Loud Racism of Gated Communities and HOAs

Under the facade of race-neutral suburbia, racism persists

Although the civil rights movement dismantled the nation's formal system of racial discrimination, the shell of white supremacy remains intact. America is stubbornly segregated by race and class. As authors Richard and Lea Rothstein wrote, "policies of enforced segregation in the twentieth century were so powerful that they continue to influence and often determine today's racial boundaries." While open hostility toward Black people and other racial minorities is no longer socially acceptable, there was a time when Americans said the quiet part out loud.

Consider, for instance, an advertisement for Lexington Real Estate in 1908, for a 5-room "brand new residence," № 640 on Euclid Avenue. Among other amenities, such as "hot and cold water, gas," was a statement, that read — "No Negros can buy property in this subdivision." This wasn't an off-the-cuff account made through casual observation, but a verifiable fact. You see, their claim referenced the community's racially restrictive covenant that prohibited Black people from buying or inhabiting homes in that area. This was one of the many strategies employed to maintain racially segregated communities.

While racial redlining controlled which areas Black people could inhabit, racial covenants further exacerbated the problem. The Prairie Village Homeowners Association in Kansas once had a "covenant [that] applied to all 1,700 homes." One restriction found in a St. Louis home built in 1906, five years after its construction, prohibited the property from being sold or inhabited "by people of the Negro or Mongolian Race." One home in San Diego built from 1950–51 included a covenant that prohibited anyone "other than the Caucasian race" from living there or occupying the property except "in the capacity of servants or employees." This language, as it was placed in deeds, sought to maintain the racial hierarchy. Racial covenants can be found in the deeds of homes in almost every state in the country. And while they are no longer legally enforceable, they serve as a pungent reminder of the nation's racist past.

Homeowners Associations of today are often accused of discriminating against Black people and other racial minorities. Many gated communities are located on the outskirts of cities, designed to separate themselves from those who live outside the subdivision. They’re typically more expensive, predominantly White, insular neighborhoods. Segregationists, such as Kansas City developer Jesse Clyde Nichols, helped “standardize the form of homeowner’s association in which deed restrictions ran with the land, and all common property and amenities fell under the governance of mandatory membership." This meant anyone who bought a home in that area was subjected not just to the federal, state, and city laws, but also to the policies implemented by the homeowners’ association. This enabled neighbors to police others’ lives and property. Nichols has also been credited with standardizing the use of racially restrictive covenants to control the racial makeup of communities.

"By tying property values and covenant enforcement to racially exclusive resident-governed communities on the fringe of cities," Nichols helped to exacerbate racial segregation and discrimination in this country. Many White homeowners bought into the false notion that they needed to keep Black people out of their communities to remain safe. And this became their go-to excuse to maintain racial segregation. In 1945, the Civil Liberties Committee reported that "some 80 per cent of Chicago is covered with anti-Negro housing restrictions." The Central Young Men’s Christian Association, which led an "anti-Negro crusade," crammed in 400,000 people into "the most crowded slum in the world, Chicago’s Black Belt." In this way, racial segregation maintained poverty for Black people. Racial redlining policies and covenants prevented them from living anywhere else.

While we often talk about America as a nation that has racially progressed, the truth is that there have always been two concurrent movements, one advancing civil rights and liberties, and the other seeking to diminish them. It’s not a coincidence that HOAs grew in popularity after Shelly v. Kraemer (1948), which "declared enforcement of racially restrictive covenants," unconstitutional. As so many times throughout the nation’s history, Black people’s progress was followed by White people finding a way to undermine their gains. Making these covenants illegal didn’t mean White people would abandon their racist beliefs about Black people. As we’ve seen, they found other methods of racial exclusion. Today, systemic racism does not need to be loud, as it is quietly effective. Case in point, Black Americans are less likely to own a home than in 1968 — this is the case without explicitly racist policies.

The racial wealth gap has persisted since slavery. As a result, the only thing developers and property owners need to do to keep Black people out is to keep prices high. It’s a subtle but effective way to maintain a primarily white community. For instance, in the Greater New Orleans area, the median wealth for a Black household is $14,000 compared with $21,000 for Hispanic households and a whopping $185,000 for white families. Thus, if you want to keep Black people from, let’s say, buying houses Uptown in a gated section of the Garden District, then all you need to keep property values high, and the subdivision will remain segregated. No one has to call Black people the n-word to benefit from the privilege of this arrangement. While no one who endured chattel slavery is alive today, the maintenance of the racial wealth gap deprives descendants of racial equity in the housing market.

As a result of generations of discrimination, White people remain most likely to be in positions of authority, to determine how communities are constructed, and what policies govern them. In Watters v. Homeowners Association at the Preserve at Bridgewater, a black married couple, Tonca and Terrence Watters, built what they believed would be their dream home in a subdivision located in Kokomo, Indiana. Sadly, as the only Black people in that community, they faced racial discrimination and harassment after moving to the area. This led them to file a lawsuit. The central conflict involved the former and current president of the association, Kathryn and Edward Mamaril.

On one occasion, Ed reportedly asked why "you people" moved to the subdivision. He suggested they should move "somewhere else," and threatened to investigate them. To the Watters, this was undoubtedly a racist attack. But as is typical in the modern era, any nefarious intention was promptly denied. The conflict escalated at a Cracker Barrel restaurant located just outside the subdivision. When the couple took their daughter and two granddaughters for a meal, "the Mamarils pushed" the children and referred to them as "little monkey n******." This verbal onslaught was presented as evidence in the case. Another microaggression they suffered suggested "Ed threatened litigation" if the Black couple moved their mailbox to place it on the same side of the street as their home. The Watters claimed that White families had done so without authorization. However, the judge in the case sided with the defendants, for the most part. While the Black couple could not prove the homeowner's association was potentially liable, they were allowed to proceed with their lawsuit against the Mamarils.

In another case, HUD or the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development determined that Providence Homeowners Association Inc. ("PHOA"), along with their property management company — First Service Residential Texas, Inc., the property manager, along with the PHOA president, engaged in intentional discrimination based on race and color against Section 8 Voucher holders. In 2022, the case was filed when "a community of about 7,000 residents in suburban Dallas — adopted a new policy barring voucher holders," 93% of whom were Black. "As many as 63 landlords who participated in the voucher program and were threatened by PHOA with fines of $300 per week if they continued to rent to voucher households." While banning the program may seem race-neutral on the surface, the effect was racially discriminatory. The HUD determination found "cause to believe that respondents violated subsections 804(a) and 804(b), and section 818 of the Fair Housing Act."

In "The Dark Side of the Homeowner’s Association," an article written by Nick Gromicko, the rarely discussed dangers of these groups are described. He argued they’re "essentially autonomous," a "mini government, that sometimes exert enough power to bully their residents into foreclosure." They "can and do punish over the type of plants they choose to grow, the color they paint their homes, the appearance of hedges, the age of residents in senior living centers…" And it’s all rooted in America’s history of racial segregation, discrimination, and exclusion. According to the Policy Research Brief from The Redress Movement in 2022, "roughly one-quarter of Americans (74 million) lived in community associations, which are privately governed, planned residential communities that include homeowners’ associations (HOAs), condominiums, and housing cooperatives." Between 1964 and 2010, the phenomenon expanded from 500 to 274,000, mirroring white flight.

Although America no longer allows "whites-only" signs or racial covenants that restrict Black people and other minorities from buying or renting homes in predominantly White communities, housing discrimination persists. According to research by the Brookings Center, in cities like Detroit, Baltimore, Cleveland, and Atlanta, "Black residents are extremely segregated from the rest of the population." Homes in predominantly Black communities often get devalued, even when located in predominantly White areas. Racial disparities in lending and banking practices have sustained inequalities that started during Jim Crow.

Their report offers several recommendations, including increasing support for small-dollar mortgage loan programs. Researchers argue that since "homes in Black neighborhoods are already devalued, this barrier to entry to homeownership disproportionately affects Black buyers, especially those who are first-time buyers." Another strategy, they added, is considering regular payments of rent and utilities in determining creditworthiness. Down-payment assistance provided to borrowers with a history of discriminatory lending and housing practices could also be helpful, given their findings. Additionally, since "nearly 9 in 10 property appraisers are white, while 2% are Black," increasing diversity in the appraisal profession is needed. They reasoned that "implementing these evidence-based solutions will improve opportunities for potential Black homebuyers and reduce the racial wealth gap." The problem is that there doesn’t seem to be a political appetite to solve these problems in earnest.

Many communities in America remain racially segregated. The rise of Homeowners Associations and gated communities continues the legacy of racist housing policies. This doesn't mean every organization actively discriminates; however, their structure is all rooted in this history of excluding Black people and others seen as socially undesirable. No matter what policies we adopt, as long as anti-blackness exists, new justifications will arise to uphold the racial hierarchy. We can't ignore the racism embedded in gated communities and HOAs. While they may be less blatant than past forms of discrimination, their subtlety makes them even more dangerous. Since these policies and practices are less explicit, fewer people recognize the injustices, making them an even more challenging issue to contend with.

This post originally appeared on Medium and is edited and republished with author's permission. Read more of Allison Gaines' work on Medium.