A stable job, homeownership and a family often defines the concept of the American Dream. However, for Black Americans across the country, it can feel impossible to reach, even for those who have “made it.” 

Caprice Risby was born to teenage parents. Her family relied on different types of federal assistance, including public housing and welfare, which allowed her to “never go without.” Now, Risby, 30, works in student affairs at Texas A&M University. She has established her own organization, Afrofessional, to support other Black professionals.

Still, Risby, like many Americans, feels that despite her continued success, she is still playing “catch up” with her finances. Risby’s story is part of a larger trend for Black Americans as they work to achieve financial stability. 

According to a  paper from Opportunity Insights, a Harvard University-based research team,  high income Black families have less wealth and assets than their white counterparts, which is a generational trend. The research compares children from families born between 1978 and 1992. The paper shows that “the White-Black gap among high income families remained essentially unchanged.” 

This problem is exacerbated by historical factors such as slavery, Jim Crow laws and redlining according to the same paper. Lorece Edwards, a Morgan State professor at the School of Community Health and Policy, spoke to the AFRO about redlining and its persistent impacts today. “Redlining may have ended on the books, but its legacy is still very much present today,” she said. 

Redlining, which began in the 1930s with a residential security map created by the Federal Home Owners’ Loan Corporation, determined who could receive loans for housing – and where. Neighborhoods marked in red on the map were deemed “hazardous” for banks and lending organizations. These areas were often denied financial investment. Neighborhoods marked in green and blue on the map were deemed more “secure” for investors. These areas were more likely to receive loans for home purchases and repairs. However, the money was reserved for white homeowners, as they were the only racial group welcomed in the areas marked in green or blue.

“Housing has always been considered a form of wealth,” Edwards said. “People get houses, they fix them up, they sell them, and then they earn money that way. People who live in redlined areas were denied that opportunity.” 

She also discussed the “Black Butterfly,” a term coined by her colleague, Lawrence Brown. The term explains the image that appears on the map of Baltimore City, when different types of inequities are marked out. The same image appears when discussing housing, internet access, health and more.

“The Black Butterfly are these areas — the redlined areas that we’re talking about — where you have a wing on the east and a wing on the west,” Edwards said. “And in the middle is the [white] L, the spine of the butterfly. Those are the areas in the city where funding is spent.”

Edwards calls poverty the “deadliest form of violence,” one that continues to erode opportunity for the very people once promised mobility through education and hard work. 

Heather Burton, former associate vice president for diversity and inclusion at Case Western Reserve University, was laid off in May. She is one of more than 300,000 Black women who have lost their jobs since the start of the current administration. 

Although she has faced a setback, because of her saving and budgeting habits and her work as a writer and speaker, she has been able to maintain middle class status. For her, what separates the Black middle class from the white middle class is a lack of equity for opportunities. 

“What I think about the Black middle class is the need, or necessities of people to understand the impact that race has on our society,” Burton said. “Most folks don’t get it, and they have a hard problem comprehending the impact that it has and that it has had. It’s one thing to get there, it’s another thing to stay, especially when folks feel threatened because of preconceived notions or biases.”

Anthony Dongfack comes from a middle class background, with both of his parents working in finance and banking. He says that although it gave him an advantage in some ways like learning about building credit early, there were still gaps to fill post college. 

Dongfack now works as a clinical research coordinator for bladder cancer trials at Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center in Boston. He makes about $50,000 a year, less than what his parents earn. Dongfack has tried to pursue homeownership, but said lenders have repeatedly denied him because of his student debt.

“When you’re 17 years old, trying to go to college, you don’t really care about those things. You don’t know what a monthly payment looks like,” he said. 

Despite his financial literacy, something he strengthened during the pandemic via online finance videos, knowledge can only go so far without income to match. “I have a lot of financial fitness but not the means to apply it,” he said. The stress of money weighs on him “every waking moment.”

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