homeownership & race in new orleans

HOMEOWNERSHIP & RACE IN NEW ORLEANS

M A U R A B A L D I G A ----GENEVIEVE P O I S T MAY 2014 CP230

"...the natural disaster of Katrina uncovered and exacerbated existing man-­‐made threats to fair and affordable housing, which have been created by specific policy decisions and years of neglect.” (NAACP, Housing in New Orleans: One Year After Katrina, 2006)

I: Introduction Black homeowners in New Orleans, over time and today, are placed in a precarious position due to high levels of vulnerability to natural and social threats. This vulnerability, although recurring and insistent over time, became particularly stark during the crisis of Hurricane Katrina, both in the storm's disproportionate impact and uneven recovery. Hurricane Katrina revealed inadequacies and injustices in the city’s housing system aligned against Black homeownership. Homeownership continues to be the primary wealth-­‐generation tool for American families, and thus, mechanisms that historically and presently remove and restrict Black homeownership must be understood and destabilized.

This paper will utilize patterns of racialized mortgage loan redlining, spatial distributions of Black populations in New Orleans, and homeownership rates of Black residents over time in order gain insight into historical and current determinants of Black homeownership in New Orleans. This analysis seeks to understand how current policies continually marginalize, rather than serve, Black homeowners in New Orleans, reinforcing historically racial patterns.

Recognizing the current precarious state of Black homeownership in New Orleans, recent policies must be critically evaluated. Beyond discerning discriminatory intent or impact, further inquiry is necessary into affirmative policies for Black homeownership that may be part of a process of mitigating legacies of exclusion. In this analysis, particular attention is paid to the contemporary issues surrounding post-­‐Katrina recovery and homeownership.

II: Data Methods This paper relies on various sources of data in order to track trajectories of racial segregation and homeownership in New Orleans. Census data is used to measure race and rates of Black homeownership across the city by census tract, beginning in 1940. Census data is also used to evaluate pre-­‐Katrina vulnerability based on social factors (poverty level, vehicles per household, under 18 population, over 65 population, renter tenure, and unemployment rate) and natural factors (distance to natural water bodies and distance from levees). This analysis will allow for a comparison between spatial patterns of vulnerability and Black homeownership throughout the city. For additional historical context, a digitized Home Owner’s Loan Corporation (HOLC) map was gathered from the National Archives and geocoded into GIS (see Appendix Figure 1 & 2). This map, a proxy for the state policies that codified and entrenched racial policies, enables visual analysis regarding how initial redlining patterns continue to structure vulnerability in New Orleans.

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To understand how Black homeownership is being impacted by post-­‐Katrina recovery efforts, recovery data was gathered from the LA Road Home program, a federal fund of Katrina recovery money for homeowners, dispersed by the state. Additional information was gathered from the New Orleans City government concerning municipal relief funding and costs by neighborhood.

III: Racial Settlement Patterns in New Orleans: 1800 -­‐ 2000 The settlement of New Orleans, like many cities across the United States, was inextricably linked with race. Knowing the “proper” space for Black Americans was a consistent concern and was negotiated through social and spatial processes (BondGraham, 2007). Segregation was created and maintained through these various processes, altering throughout the years based on economic and political systems. Despite a shift from explicit, state-­‐sanctioned segregation to implicitly-­‐enforced segregation, race has continuously had a profound impact on where people live (Troutt, 2007).

Throughout the first half of the 18th century, New Orleans was settled by French planters who established themselves on high ground and used slave labor to grow crops. In the pre-­‐civil war era, free Blacks lived throughout the city, although in very small numbers, as they only accounted for 6.4% of the city’s population (Troutt, 2007). During slavery, and immediately after, there was a movement to send free Black Americans to the African nation of Liberia, an explicit attempt to remove Black residents from the United States. Re-­‐colonization schemes were eventually abandoned with the recognition that it would be impossible to expel all Black Americans. Thus, there was a need for new methods of managing and controlling the Black population (Troutt, 2007).

Settlement patterns in the period directly after slavery had a higher level of integration than those taking place in later years, although New Orleans was always ordered by race and class.

Rather than entire sections of the city being reserved for specific races, there was variation at the block level (BondGraham, 2007). Often, White, affluent citizens would live on main avenues, while nearby side streets were reserved for Black residents. The limited availability of land, and the harsh conditions of that land, compelled New Orleans residents of all races to live more closely than did residents in other cities (Troutt, 2007).

The Reconstruction Era increased tensions between White and Black residents in New Orleans and throughout the United States. The rise of Jim Crow, and the doctrine of separate but equal, clearly implicates the United States legal system in codifying racial relations and residential segregation (Troutt 2007). As the City of New Orleans began a series of investments in pumps

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and canals to open up floodplains to development, new sections of the city were created and made available to only White residents (Troutt, 2007). Consequently, the growing Black population was confined to regions of the city most vulnerable to floods (Troutt, 2007). New Orleans adopted its first comprehensive zoning ordinance in 1929, allowing the city to align its planning codes with previously-­‐implemented segregation legislation (Troutt, 2007).

Although segregation was increasing in New Orleans as the city expanded, racial integration continued to characterize many neighborhoods until specific processes in the 1950s and 1960s intervened. One reason for this increase in segregation was the movement of White New Orleanians out of the city due to racial and economic factors. New Orleans lost two-­‐thirds of its White population between 1950 and 2000, primarily to the adjacent Jefferson Parish, facilitated by processes of suburban sprawl (see Appendix Figures 6 & 7) (Troutt, 2007). Additionally, during this time, redlining became an explicit government practice to constrict black homeownership in specific neighborhoods. Redlining was a method of denoting a specific area “unfit” for mortgage lending. When a neighborhood was redlined, it saw decreased property values and barriers to investment. Finally, the New Orleans Housing Authority began building segregated public housing in 1937, once again explicitly creating conditions for segregation (Troutt, 2007). By 1976, public housing served essentially only Black residents (Troutt, 2007).

These processes, most of which can be traced to the 1950s, are characteristic of the overall process of ghettoization in cities across the United States, producing heightened levels of racial and socioeconomic segregation over time. As BondGraham assets, “multinucleated segregation began to give way to large contiguous areas within the city populated by Blacks at rates approaching eighty to ninety percent. These areas consolidated the Black population most intensely in the lowest, most vulnerable, and marginalized portions of the city” (2007, p. 9). In 2000, only 11% of poor Whites lived in neighborhoods of concentrated poverty, while 43% of Black residents living in poverty lived in areas of concentrated poverty (Troutt, 2007).

IV: Racial Settlement Patterns in New Orleans: A Qualitative Analysis An initial aspect of this analysis is illuminating the distribution of Black populations in New Orleans over time, based on census data from 1950, 2000, and 2010. Mapping the population density of Black residents, overlaid with redlining districts from the HOLC map, visually demonstrates strong alignment between areas that were redlined and where Black population density was highest and has remained consistent over time. See Figures 1, 2 and 3 below. Each of these maps visually confirms the expectation that areas of redlining were initially areas of high Black population density, and that these patterns remained relatively stable over almost sixty years. Contrastingly, there were many census tracts in 1950 that had a very small proportion of Black residents, and many of these have continued to possess very low

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proportions of Black residents over time. In 1950, the Black population made up only 37% of the entire New Orleans population, while in 2000, the Black population made up 67% (see Appendix Figure 6). Thus, these patterns in which Black population density is concentrated within specific areas are occurring even as the Black population becomes the majority amongst all residents within the city border.

Figure 1: Black Population Density 1950

Source: US Census, 1950.

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Figure 2: Black Population Density 2000

Source: US Census, 2000

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Figure 3: Black Population Density 2010

Source: US Census, 2010.

To gain additional insight, a statistical analysis was performed on Black population density to determine if the distribution of this population could be considered statistically random. In 1950, spatial analysis shows that the distribution of the Black population was likely to be random (z-­‐score = 0.33) (see Appendix Figure 3). In 2000, the spatial analysis illustrates that the distribution of the Black population was unlikely random (z-­‐score = 5.77) (see Appendix Figure 4). And in 2010, the distribution of the Black population became increasingly less likely to be random (z-­‐score = 11.18) (see Appendix Figure 5). Putting these analyses into historical context, it can be suggested (although not confirmed, unless all other possible influences are eliminated) that redlining practices, and the additional mechanisms of segregation outlined above, all put into place during the 1950s, had a strong effect on increased segregation in the city. As the spatial analysis shows, in the 1950s, before redlining had been enforced and fully implemented, the distribution of the Black population was “likely to be random,” meaning it was not affected by external sorting mechanisms (like redlining), but was instead the result of standard population dispersal and neighborhood choice.

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However, fifty-­‐years after redlining and the consequent effects of white flight, urban renewal, and neighborhood disinvestment, the location of Black residents throughout New Orleans is unlikely to be random, suggesting that external practices (redlining) induced racial segregation.

Since Hurricane Katrina (2005), the racial segregation of the city has only decreased in “randomness,” meaning it is even less likely that the racial makeup is how it is (as of 2010) because of purely random population dispersal. The prolonged effects of redlining (uneven land values throughout the city, disinvestment in public services in certain areas) and the recent, unequal impacts of the storm (the obliteration of certain neighborhoods, the methods of funding dispersal) likely contributed to this increase in segregation, continuing to sort the Black population into certain areas.

V: Homeownership and Race Homeownership (and access to homeownership) is a key institution in the United States. Home wealth accounts for forty-­‐four percent of total measured net worth in the United States and for sixty-­‐percent of wealth for middle-­‐class Americans (Shapiro, 2005). Through government-­‐ backed loans, tax incentives, and infrastructure investments, the government has enacted specific policies that have led to extremely high rates of homeownership (Shapiro, 2005). While facilitating home ownership and leading to almost two-­‐thirds of Americans owning their own home (as of 2005), these policies have simultaneously reproduced segregation (Shapiro, 2005).

As Shapiro asserts, “…the same federal housing, tax, and transportation policies that have been so successful in making America a land of homeowners also have traditionally reinforced neighborhood segregation by favoring economically and racially uniform communities over integrated ones” (2005, p. 108).

The disparate impact of federal policies on homeownership in regards to race remains evident into the present day. In 2002, there was a twenty-­‐five percent difference between rates of homeownership for White and Black individuals, with White Americans having a homeownership rate of 74.2% and Black Americans having a much smaller rate of 48.2% (Shapiro, 2005). Further, White Americans have a mean home equity of $74,859, while Black Americans have a mean home equity rate of $46,254, a difference of $28,605 (Shapiro, 2005).

This massive differential in homeownership and home equity is primarily traced to the aforementioned discriminatory practice of redlining. Redlining was first initiated through the Home Owners’ Loan Corporation, a federal agency created in 1933 (Hannah-­‐Jones, 2012).

Racial redlining, specifically, is the process by which mortgages are denied in minority communities due to neighborhood “values” typically assigned based on the racial makeup of an area (traditionally Black neighborhoods or neighborhoods seeing an influx of Black residents are given poor scores and noted as “declining” or “hazardous” with red markings on a map) (See

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Appendix Figures 1 & 2). Redlining thus reduces an individual’s access to credit and weakens the housing market in minority neighborhoods. The Federal Housing Administration (FHA) adopted these HOLC policies, and between 1934 and 1962, White borrowers made up 98% of the loans insured by the FHA (Hannah-­‐Jones, 2012). Thus, as White homeownership was being subsidized and supported, Black homeownership was neglected and marginalized to select areas.

VI: Homeownership and Race: A Qualitative Analysis For our analysis, a key question regards the distribution of Black homeownership in New Orleans. While the legacy of redlining and nation-­‐wide statistics clearly indicate that Black residents are less likely to own homes, the spatial distribution of homeownership is less clear.

The distribution of homeownership is particularly important as it structures vulnerability to natural threats. The distribution of Black homeownership may also illuminate areas of disinvestment, which leads to increase social vulnerability.

In order to spatially illustrate the distribution of homeownership, the percent of Black homeowners (as a percentage of total number of homeowners) was analyzed by census tract.

For each year between 1940 and 2010 (excluding 1970 due to lack of data), rates of Black homeownership were mapped using five categories. The middle category on each map, colored yellow, represents the overall percent of homeowners across the city that are Black, plus and minus five percentage points (see Appendix Figures 8 & 9). For example, in 1990, across the entire city of New Orleans, 46% of all homeowners were Black. Thus, for the 1990 map, the middle category ranges from 41% -­‐ 51% (46% +/-­‐ 5%). If the percentage of Black homeowners across the entire city is 46%, and race is not a significant determinant of where individuals want or are able to purchase homes, one would assume to find roughly 46% of homeowners in each census tract to be Black (the map would be all-­‐yellow). Thus, the maps are particularly useful in seeing which census tracts have a disproportionately high number of Black homeowners (shown in orange and red) or a disproportionately low number of Black homeowners (shown in shades of green). See Figures 4, 5, & 6 for three of the Black homeownership maps for the years 1940, 1980, and 2000 (see Appendix Figures 10, 11, 12 & 13 for additional years).

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Figure 4: Black Homeownership in 1940

Source: US Census, 1940.

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Figure 5: Black Homeownership in 1980

Source: US Census, 1980.

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Figure 6: Black Homeownership in 2000

Source: US Census, 2000.

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In the 1940 map, one can see that Black homeownership is not especially prevalent throughout the city, and the areas of highest concentration (red) are within the redlined districts. This density is likely what prompted redlining in those neighborhoods (since Black residents were a “hazardous” and “undesirable” feature of a neighborhood, and since Black residents were usually only able to afford homes in less-­‐attractive areas likely to be redlined). The percent of Black homeowners across the entire city (yellow)—14%-­‐-­‐is quite low at this time, and the red areas of disproportionately high concentrations of Black homeowners are few.

In 1980, the map shows a great increase in areas of disproportionately high concentrations of Black homeowners (red), almost entirely within the redlined areas (which were, of course, no longer legally redlined at this time). The percent of Black homeowners across the entire city is 53% (yellow), which is a significant increase since 1940. However, there are even less yellow areas on the map than there were in 1940, meaning that, even though Black homeownership increased by nearly 40% across the entire city, these increases were only seen in specific neighborhoods with disproportionately high concentrations of Black homeownership. This correlation suggests that Black homeowners were some how excluded—explicitly or implicitly—from many areas of the city. It is also worth noting that the green areas—the areas of lowest Black homeownership concentration—have barely changed since 1940, suggesting strongly established and immutable White neighborhoods.

Finally, in 2000, the overall Black homeownership of the city has increased by only 1% (to 54%), but the areas of highest concentration of Black homeowners have grown significantly to fill almost the entirety of the redlined overlay. Thus, instead of dispersing to other areas of the city, Black homeowners have continued to become even more highly concentrated in these same, previously redlined, areas. The northwest and southwest sections of the city are still made up of predominantly White homeowners. It is important to note that these are some of the wealthiest and Whitest areas of New Orleans (Lakeview, City Park, Uptown). Thus, these homeownership patterns closely align with original redlined districts, indicating the role of the state in formalizing segregation and the enduring nature of these patterns. Beyond the negative consequences of segregation, containing Black homeownership into specific parts of the city created concentrated areas of natural and social vulnerability, in addition to ensuring that Black homeowners were left in a more precarious position than White homeowners due to disinvestment and weak housing markets.

VII: Vulnerability to and the Impact of Hurricane Katrina Hurricane Katrina breached the levees of New Orleans on August 29, 2005, ultimately causing 1,200 deaths and 200 billion dollars of damage in the days following the storm and its after-­‐ effects (Congleton, 2006). These impacts were geographically and demographically

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concentrated in particular communities within New Orleans, and 73% of all those displaced (owners, renters, and those in public housing) from the city after the storm were Black (Browne-­‐Dianis & Sinha, 2008). The average income of households in flooded areas was $38,000, significantly lower than the average income in non-­‐flooded areas, which was $55,000 (Troutt, 2007). Hurricane Katrina’s disproportionate impact on the city’s Black, low-­‐income residents revealed how race continues to structure inequality and vulnerability in New Orleans through the concentration of specific populations, and how the effects of racist housing policies are especially dangerous in the face of disaster. For our analysis, we looked specifically at the impact of Katrina on Black homeowners in New Orleans within the historical context of redlining.

First, before assessing the impacts of Katrina on Black homeowners during the recovery process, pre-­‐Katrina vulnerability was examined in redlined neighborhoods, as these vulnerabilities, if uneven across the city in regards to the racial redlining policies, may prove to have a negative impact on already-­‐precarious Black homeownership in the city. Utilizing GIS analysis tools, a vulnerability assessment was conducted for each census tract in New Orleans based on a combination of social and natural factors, many of which were compared at the census track level to determine if the census tract in question was above or below the city-­‐wide median. See Figure 7 and Figure 8 below. Census tracts were given a social vulnerability score of +1 for each of the following factors: above median poverty level, above median households with 0 vehicles, above median under-­‐18 population, above median over-­‐65 population, above median renter tenure, and above median unemployment rate. Thus, the social vulnerability scale ranged from 0 to +6, with 6 indicating the areas with highest vulnerability (see Figure 7 below). Two natural factors were considered, including distance to natural water bodies (a half mile buffer) and distance from levees (a 500-­‐foot buffer) (see Figure 8 below). These were mapped across the city. Finally, these vulnerability analyses were overlaid with the HOLC redlining map to observe spatial correlation between redlining and vulnerability. As shown in Figure 9 below, vulnerability is greatest throughout the city most often within the areas that were once redlined. This is particularly true in regards to social vulnerability, which make sense given the great disinvestment in redlined neighborhoods. Although this vulnerability speaks to all residents and not just homeowners, one may view the homeowners in these areas as highly vulnerable compared to other homeowners, as it is likely that a large portion of their net wealth (home) is rooted in a vulnerable area of the city.

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Figure 7: Vulnerability to Social Factors in 2000

Source: US Census, 2000.

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Figure 8: Vulnerability to Natural Factors in 2000

Source: USGS, boundaries, land cover, hydrography (levees); NOAA, MS/LA 1/3 arc-­‐second MHW DEM.

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Figure 9: Vulnerability to Natural and Social Factors in 2000

Source: USGS, boundaries, land cover, hydrography (levees); NOAA, MS/LA 1/3 arc-­‐second MHW DEM; US Census, 2000.

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Thus, the geographic-­‐preferences awarded to Whites in the redlining process, and the consequent segregation of Blacks into less “naturally-­‐sound” parts of the city, combined with the social disinvestment from redlined neighborhoods that resulted in precarious states of poverty and economic dearth in these neighborhoods, set many of New Orleans’ Black residents in a position of great vulnerability and precarity prior to Katrina’s landfall, homeowner or not.

However, it is important to note that, although our study focuses primarily on the center of New Orleans proper as the primary site of historic redlining policies, the city has expanded outward since that time. These new areas, further from the cultural and commercial hubs of the French Quarter and Uptown districts and thus less desirable and often less expensive, saw massive growth and development during the 1970s, and were heavily populated by the Black residents who were simultaneously increasing in number throughout the city and could not afford (and were not welcomed) into the less vulnerable areas on the south side (along and closer to the Mississippi River). These areas-­‐-­‐especially those to the north and east of our area of study-­‐-­‐were in some ways the most vulnerable pre-­‐Katrina given their proximity to Lake Pontchartrain (the lake that flooded the city) and even lower elevations. Further still, the popular and cheapest architectural style in this time of great expansion and development was slab housing: housing built directly on the ground, elevated only by a concrete “slab” several inches in height. These non-­‐elevated structures were grossly inappropriate for the New Orleans floodplains and a sharp divergence from the traditional, elevated, shot-­‐gun houses that make up older parts of the city. The combination of these factors, unrelated to redlining but strongly related to the informal segregation-­‐-­‐racially and economically-­‐-­‐of the most vulnerable areas of the city, positioned even more Black and low-­‐income residents in a state of vulnerability when Katrina made landfall.

VIII: Recovery and Homeownership: A Qualitative Analysis Once Katrina had hit, the levees had broken, and extreme floodwaters had sunk most of the city (see Figure 10 below), social and natural vulnerabilities were grossly revealed. As aforementioned, 73-­‐percent of all Black residents in New Orleans were displaced after the storm, some just outside of the city, but many to other parts of Louisiana or to other states entirely, like Texas and Florida (Adams, 2013). As Fussell, Sastry, and VanLandingham write in their analysis of population replacement post-­‐Katrina, “By the time Hurricane Katrina struck, almost all the extreme-­‐poverty neighborhoods in New Orleans were predominantly black, and these racially and economically segregated areas bore the brunt of the disaster” (2010).

Further, research cited by Fussell, et al. describes, “a block-­‐by-­‐block analysis of census data and flood maps [that] revealed that about half of the city's white residents experienced serious flooding, compared with three-­‐quarters of black residents” (Fussell et. al., 2010). Thus, the

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aforementioned isolation and forced segregation of Black residents into disinvested and hazardous (literally this time, in contrast to the euphemistic language of the HOLC redlining map) neighborhoods translated into a 25-­‐percent increase in serious flooding for Blacks in the city when compared to Whites.

Figure 10: New Orleans Under Water

Source: resilientdesign.org

Fussell, et al. also note that Black residents returned to New Orleans at a much slower pace than White residents after the storm (2010). The authors explain this difference through the disparity in housing damage; “Blacks were less likely to return to New Orleans because they were more likely to have had their dwelling severely damaged or destroyed by flooding…”

(Fussell et. al., 2010).

However, despite the actual difference in home damages experienced by Black and White residents, the barriers facing Black residents—specifically, Black homeowners—in rebuilding their homes can perhaps explain the brunt of these different rates of return. First of all, in order to access Road Home funding (loans), homeowners had to demonstrate ownership of their home in the form of a title, and preferably, if it was in their possession, a pre-­‐storm appraisal of their house value and evidence of any insurance funds already collected (Adams, 2013).

However, because of the aforementioned racist policies regarding Black homeownership in the city leading up to and preceding the storm, many Black homeowners were in a precarious state of homeownership. Most homeowners lacked explicit titles or possessed outdated documents, as many Black home-­‐sales were made via “bond-­‐for-­‐deed” or “lease-­‐to-­‐buy” transactions (to 18

evade the standard, exclusionary zoning market) or passed along from relatives or other homeowners through less official practices without title or updated documentation (Adams, 2013). These informal means of homeownership (reflective of the forced informal economy of the Black community) made procuring Road Home loans—and basic insurance collections— nearly impossible for many Black residents (Adams, 2013).

When Road Home funding was dispensed to Black homeowners, it was often done so unevenly and unfairly, reflecting racist practices. A 2010 federal lawsuit against the U.S. Department of Housing & Urban Development and the Louisiana Recovery Authority alleged that, “the Road Home, Louisiana’s Hurricane Katrina recovery program, discriminates against African-­‐American homeowners in New Orleans . . .” (Eaton, 2011). The court case ruled that the Road Home fund had unfairly discriminated against Black homeowners in the calculation of pre-­‐storm home appraisals, assigning lower values to homes located in Black neighborhoods because of the “lower-­‐quality” of the neighborhood value. Thus, even when Road Home funding was accessible to Black homeowners, racist policies—the same used to distinguish and assign “quality” to Black and White neighborhoods through redlining—made acquiring adequate funds much more difficult for Black homeowners.

When Road Home funding was not awarded, residents were encouraged to apply for SBA loans (Small Business Administration loans) in order to repair their homes. However, as Robert D. Bullard writes in his analysis of “Katrina and the Second Disaster: A Twenty-­‐Point Plan to Destroy Black New Orleans,” “the SBA has rejected eighty-­‐two -­‐percent of the applications it received, a higher percentage than in most previous disasters. Well-­‐off neighborhoods like Lakeview [a majority-­‐White, suburban neighborhood that incurred a lot of damage] have received 47-­‐percent of the loan approvals, while poverty-­‐stricken neighborhoods have gotten 7-­‐percent” (2014). Bullard also notes insurance company “redlining” as yet another detriment to Black recovery: “Numerous studies show that African Americans are more likely than whites to receive insufficient insurance settlement amounts. Insurance firms target black policyholders for low and inadequate insurance settlements based on majority black zip codes to subsidize fair settlements made to white policyholders” (2014). Further still, as Adams notes in her ethnography of Katrina, the insurance companies, unprepared to handle the number of claims made in the wake of this devastation, were quick to skirt responsibility and refer policyholders to the government or FEMA (who would then redirect homeowners to make claims through insurance agencies) (2013). Homeowners were shuffled back and forth, as no agency-­‐-­‐private or public-­‐-­‐had sufficient funds to provide the full amount needed for each homeowner and policyholder to rebuild. Many insurance companies re-­‐classified damage as “water” when it was “wind,” and vice-­‐versa, so as to avoid paying homeowners a settlement (Bullard, 2014).

The complicated process of insurance and loan-­‐collecting during the rebuilding process

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required a certain “Katrina savvy” (a term dubbed by one of Adams’ interviewees post-­‐Katrina) that, amidst emotional turmoil and lack of shelter and work, most residents just did not possess (Adams, 2013). As one homeowner recalled, “It takes a good deal of endurance and strength . . . but after three years with so little visible recovery, it wears down and erodes that strength . . . life as I knew it is gone” (Adams, 2013).

Finally, when Black homeowners were actually able to collect sufficient funding, be it from the federal government or private insurance companies, they were particularly prone to contractor fraud, especially the elderly and those unfamiliar with the re-­‐building process (which was, of course, the majority of residents in the city). Contractor fraud—an unfortunately common practice after disasters, in which fraudulent contractors flock to a destroyed area, promise to rebuild homes, collect homeowners’ re-­‐building monies, and then leave the area with the money and without finishing or sometimes even starting a rebuild job—ran rampant in New Orleans after Katrina. In one author’s two-­‐years working to re-­‐build the city through various non-­‐profits, “contractor fraud” was an element of almost every case the non-­‐profits took on— meaning not only that it was a serious problem throughout the city’s recovery efforts, but that these non-­‐profits, which should likely be focusing their efforts on the homeowners unable to procure any funding from the traditional federal and private insurance channels, were forced to help homeowners who had indeed obtained funding but lost it due to these illegal practices.

IX: Recovery Funding and Race: A Quantitative Analysis Despite the hardships involved in obtaining Road Home funding, many homeowners were still able to access recovery money from this source. Thus, the disbursal of Road Home funding was examined as it relates to previous redlining patterns. Sorting 2010 census tracts into two groups—those that were redlined on the 1950 HOLC map and those that were not—allowed a comparison between the amount of damage in these two neighborhood classifications and the amount of recovery money disbursed in them. Both Road Home and municipal funding sources (money raised and spent by the city of New Orleans to fund public works repairs in neighborhoods) were analyzed to determine if funds were distributed unevenly between these two types of census tracts.

Using pre-­‐Katrina owner-­‐unit counts and post-­‐Katrina owner-­‐units-­‐with-­‐damage counts, the average percent of all owned-­‐units damaged in those census tracts was calculated in both the redlined and non-­‐redlined tracts. Within redlined tracts, 72% of all owned units were damaged after the storm, and in non-­‐redlined tracts, 86% of all owned units were damaged after the storm. Thus, per these specific statistics, the redlined census tracts were not disparately impacted by Katrina when it comes to damage to owner-­‐occupied units. See Figure 11 below.

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Figure 11: Recovery Money Spending in Redlined and Non-­‐redlined Census Tracts Redlined

Percent Difference of Non-­‐Redlined Non-­‐Redlined to Red-­‐line 86% 14% $3,680,373,691 62% $8,348,813,111 46%

Percent Damaged 72% Total RH Funding $1,406,401,427 Total Municipal Funding $4,472,754,451

Then, the total Road Home dollars and the total municipal funding given to all of the once-­‐ redlined tracts were summed, and the same was done for all of the funding for non-­‐redlined tracts. As expected, given the greater damage in non-­‐redlined tracts, these neighborhoods received the larger totals of $3,680,373,691 in Road Home funding and $8,348,813,111 for municipal repairs. Redlined neighborhoods received significantly less in both categories, with $1,406,401,427 in Road Home funding and $4,472,754,451 in municipal dollars. If funding was dispersed evenly throughout the city relative to damage (“throughout the city” meaning between these two neighborhood distinctions), we would expect the difference between these respective totals to be approximately 14%-­‐-­‐the percent difference in total damage to owner units between the redlined and non-­‐redlined tracts. However, the percent difference in Road Home funding between the two neighborhood distinctions is 62%-­‐-­‐meaning non-­‐redlined census tracts received 62% more funding than redlined areas, despite having only 14% more damage (see Appendix Figure 15). Municipal funding was 46% greater in these non-­‐redlined areas, and although municipal repairs do not relate directly to the number of homes damaged, the difference of 46% is much greater than the 14% we would expect if we are using homes-­‐ damaged as a proxy for overall neighborhood damages (see Appendix Figure 14). See Figure 11 above.

One possible explanation for these disparities in Road Home funding is the uneven landscape of Road Home accessibility discussed in the previous section. The hardships and obstacles faced by Black homeowners, many of whom own homes in the census tracts once-­‐redlined, in proving homeownership may account for these discrepancies. Further, the aforementioned racist practices performed in the evaluation of Black homeowners’ home worth could also have easily affected the amount of Road Home funding they were offered and thus the overall count of funding in these disenfranchised neighborhoods. Innocently or not, Road Home funding has clearly been dispersed unevenly throughout the city in relation to the damage incurred and especially in position to historical redlining.

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In regards to the municipal funding, these discrepancies are less directly applicable, as municipal spending does not match up directly with the number of damaged homes and instead has more to do with the public facilities and infrastructure in each census tract and how badly these entities were impacted. However, if municipal spending/funding is viewed as a proxy for neighborhood investment by the city writ large, it can be inferred that the neighborhoods previously redlined were disproportionately disinvested in during Katrina recovery. Such disinvestment is evident in the infamous Lower Ninth Ward, whose streetscapes still resemble a disaster zone and whose residents still lack schools, grocery stores, and post offices.

X: Policy Implications and the Non-­‐Profit Landscape: What Can Be Done?

How are these strains to Black homeownership in New Orleans being mitigated, and what more can be done to reverse these unfair practices and policies? The bulk of this effort is currently shouldered by the plethora of non-­‐profits—some faith-­‐based and some not—in the city. These non-­‐profits raise funds from a variety of sources, including both governmental grants and private donors, which they then funnel toward home-­‐owning applicants to cover the cost of building materials. Labor is provided by long and short-­‐term volunteers under the tutelage of a handful of skilled, low-­‐paid full-­‐time employees at each non-­‐profit. Most recently, many of these organizations, including Project Homecoming, Inc. and the Broadmoor Development Corporation, have begun new programs to build homes anew for low-­‐income buyers (Project Homecoming, 2014; Broadmoor Development Corporation, 2014). These initiatives, aimed to open the market to homeowners that may otherwise find it difficult to afford a home in the city, may help to increase homeownership overall in New Orleans, and specifically Black homeownership, especially if these future homeowners are those who were unable to recover and rebuild from the loss of a previously owned home.

These new endeavors, however, are also made in part to help cash-­‐strapped organizations stay afloat via alternative income-­‐generating processes. With Katrina funding dwindling as the storm drifts further into the past, and with grant acquisition an already tenuous process, non-­‐profits are forced to create new outlets for cash-­‐flow. Although creating homeownership programs will hopefully have a great benefit to the city at large, more funding in general should be made available to these institutions, especially if they are shown to effectively increase homeownership rates, as they have thus far completed most of the successful recovery and rebuilding efforts in New Orleans (Adams, 2013). The federal government should perhaps more strongly fund these initiatives as opposed to leaving them to the devices of private donors and an unreliable neoliberal existence.

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Yet another mitigation strategy is to amend the precarity of homeownership documentation among Black residents in New Orleans. This can be done in one of two ways: a system could be put into place in which all homeowners can have their “informal” homeownership proof translated, at no cost, to the “formal” homeownership documents required by federal loan agencies (in the case of another catastrophic event or if any homeowners are still trying to obtain funding); or, the federal and state agencies administering these types of recovery loans can relax their policies on “proof of ownership” and integrate the informal documentation of New Orleans Black homeowner populous into their institutional language.

Ensuring the elimination of race-­‐based appraisals in regards to homeownership—concerning insurance collection, loan procurement, and even resale—is also crucial. The aforementioned 2010 court case brought against the Louisiana Road Home Fund to end race-­‐based appraisals in its loan disbursement is a start, but adequate measures must be taken to ensure the enforcement of these rulings and their extension to any other exclusionary processes of homeownership.

To avoid future instances of contractor fraud, federal and state governments can provide government-­‐supported contracting services to insure follow-­‐through and prevent the loss of funds for home reconstruction. Programs like AmeriCorps could be expanded, and the government could “back” certain contractors and provide insurance and legal retribution in the case of their default.

Of course, all of these tactics are most applicable and effective in the event of a future storm.

To expand Black homeownership and mitigate the lingering effects of redlining in New Orleans regardless of future disaster scenarios, other actions and policies need be taken. Namely, public investment in damaged and previously redlined neighborhoods where home values may be more affordable and thus capable of expanding the market to low-­‐income buyers is needed through public school support, infrastructure improvements, and increased access to groceries and other necessary services. If these neighborhoods are invested in by means other than gentrification processes and economic development, which have the byproduct of displacement and price-­‐out, more homes may be made available to Black buyers.

A more concrete “strategy-­‐in-­‐the-­‐making” comes from a new Wells Fargo bank program called NeighborhoodLIFT. The NeighborhoodLIFT program is an effort to increase “the ability of would-­‐ be homeowners to acquire enough funding to secure a down payment [for a home]” (Harrison, 2014). This program helps qualified homebuyers supplement down payments by providing “$15,000 in down payment assistance in conjunction with other home assistance programs” and the funding can be applied to homes that require flood mitigation construction: “’If you

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find a home that you like, but, because we know about flooding in Louisiana, the home needs to be raised, you can still use the down payment funding for the purchase of that home” (Harrison, 2014). Examining the program’s website, the following qualifications are necessary to receive this funding: • You must be approved for home financing.

Your household income must be equal to or less than 120% of the area median income.

• You must attend homebuyer education sessions before your closing — the sessions are available through Hope Enterprise Corporation or a HUD-­‐approved counseling agency.

• You don’t have to be a first-­‐time homebuyer.

• If you currently own a home, it must be sold before closing, and it cannot be rented/leased.

(Wells Fargo, 2014)

As most homebuyers often rely on wealth to produce the down payment for a home, and, as chronicled here, many Black Americans have accrued less wealth over time due to racist housing policies, this supplemental down payment could be tremendously helpful in lifting potential Black homeowners to the point of affordability in home-­‐purchasing. However, the program is only newly implemented in New Orleans (January 2014), and is offered for only a limited amount of time (Wells Fargo, 2014), so it is both unproven and unsustainable as a potential solution to Black homeownership disparities.

XI: Conclusion Although New Orleans was once one of the least segregated cities in America, racist housing policies—specifically redlining and the resulting effects of White Flight and urban renewal— transformed the city into one with deeply segregated and isolated neighborhoods of Black residents. Specifically in regards to homeownership, discussed here as the main means of wealth acquisition in the US, Black residents in New Orleans have been severely limited in their housing choices, excluded from neighborhoods and resigned to those characterized by intentional disinvestment. These racist processes trapped Black homeowners in the most precarious parts of the city when Hurricane Katrina hit in 2005, setting these residents up for a disproportionately difficult recovery process. As Lavelle states, “According to a Gallup poll, 53 percent of Black residents reported they lost everything, compared with only 19 percent of whites. However, these numbers are likely much higher, especially for the poor Black constituency, because the poll only contacted residents with an active New Orleans telephone number!” (2006). Not only were recovery efforts disproportionately directed to non-­‐Black neighborhoods, but the process of procuring loans and collecting insurance for rebuilding was also made especially difficult for Black homeowners through racist policies and increased •

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vulnerability to the ills of contractor fraud. Thus, Black homeownership in New Orleans has continued to suffer from its historic redlining nemesis despite years passing and policies revoked and invoked to deem such racial discriminating illegal. Looking forward, a means of rectifying and mitigating these harmful processes—and increasing Black residents’ ability to become homeowners and build wealth—is unclear. Currently, the burden is being shouldered by non-­‐profits, but surely federal and state governments could—and should—be more responsible. Realizing that the racist practices of old are still affecting today’s current residents—despite shifts in law and policy form—is perhaps the first step. The gap between races is still wide, and these realities must be encountered and given validity if they are ever to be changed.

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Works Cited

Adams, V. (2013). Markets of Sorrow, Labors of Faith. Duke University Press.

BondGraham, D. (2007). The New Orleans that Race Built: Racism, Disaster, and Urban Spatial Relationships. Souls, 9(1), 4–18.

Broadmoor Development Corporation. (2014). About Us. Broadmoor Development Corporation.

Retrieved from http://broadmoorcorp.com.

Browne-­‐Dianis, Judith & Sinha, Anita. “Exiling the Poor: The Clash of Redevelopment and Fair Housing in Post-­‐Katrina New Orleans.” Howard Law Journal. 51.3.2008 Bullard, R. (2014). Katrina and the Second Disaster: A Twenty-­‐Point Plan to Destroy Black New Orleans. Environmental Justice Resource Center. Retrieved from http://www.ejrc.cau.edu/Bullard20PointPlan.html.

Congleton, Roger. “The Story of Katrina: New Orleans and the political economy of catastrophe.”

Public Choice. 2006.

Eaton, C. (2011, December 7). The Road Home: A Timeline. Greater New Orleans Fair Housing Action Center. Retrieved from http://www.gnofairhousing.org/2011/12/07/the-­‐road-­‐home-­‐a-­‐ timeline.

Hannah-­‐Jones, N. (2012). Living Apart: How the Government Betrayed a Landmark Civil Rights Law. ProPublica. Retrieved from http://www.propublica.org/article/living-­‐apart-­‐how-­‐the-­‐ government-­‐betrayed-­‐a-­‐landmark-­‐civil-­‐rights-­‐law.

Harrison, Mason. (2014, January 21). New Program hopes to increase homeownership in New Orleans. The Louisiana Weekly. Retrieved from http://www.louisianaweekly.com/new-­‐ program-­‐hopes-­‐to-­‐increase-­‐homeownership-­‐in-­‐new-­‐orleans/.

Fussell, E., Sastry, N., & VanLandingham, M. (2010). Who Returned to New Orleans After Hurricane Katrina? Population Reference Bureau. Retrieved from http://www.prb.org/Publications/Articles/2010/katrina.aspx.

Lavelle, K. (2006). Hurricane Katrina: The Race and Class Debate. Monthly Review. 58(3). Retrieved from http://monthlyreview.org/2006/07/01/hurricane-­‐katrina-­‐the-­‐race-­‐and-­‐class-­‐ debate#en33.

NAACP. (2006). Housing in New Orleans: One Year after Katrina. NAACP Reports. Retrieved from http://www.kirwaninstitute.osu.edu/reports/2006/08_2006_HousingNOLA_KI_OppAg_NAACP. pdf.

Project Homecoming. (2014). Project Homecoming. Retrieved from http://projecthomecoming.net.

Shapiro, T. (2005). The Hidden Cost of Being African American. Oxford University Press.

Troutt, D. D. (2007). Katrina’s Window: Localism, Re-­‐segregation and Equitable Regionalism. Rutgers University (Newark) Legal Working Paper Series, 44.

Wells Fargo. (2014). Wells Fargo Neighborhood LIFT Program. Wells Fargo. Retrieved from https://www.wfhmconsumerevents.com/aspx/Events/Brochure.aspx?t=1&EventID=8075

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Figure 1: HOLC Redlining Map

Source: HOLC Redlining Map, National Archives; circa 1950

Figure 2: Geocoded HOLC Redlining Map

Source: HOLC Redlining Map, National Archives; circa 1950

Figure 3: Black Population Density 1950 Spatial Analysis Likely to be randomly distributed: z-­‐score = 0.33

Source: US Census, 1950.

Figure 4: Black Population Density 2000 Spatial Analysis Unlikely to be randomly distributed: z-­‐score = 5.77

Source: US Census, 2000.

Figure 5: Black Population Density 2010 Very unlikely to be randomly distributed: z-­‐score = 11.18

Source: US Census, 2010.

Figure 6: Racial Demographics of New Orleans

1940 1950 1960 1970 1980 1990 2000 2010 Total Black 29% 32% 37% 45% 55% 62% 67% 60% Population Total White 70% 68% 63% 55% 43% 35% 28% 33% Population Total Other 1% 0% 0% 0% 2% 3% 5% 7% Population Total Population 100% 100% 100% 100% 100% 100% 100% 100% Source: US Census, 1940; US Census, 1950; US Census, 1960; US Census, 1970; US Census, 1980; US Census, 1990; US Census, 2000; US Census, 2010.

Notes 1. Only three racial categories were used since this was the only census data collected in 1940 and 1950.

2. Definitions of "Black/African American" population differed slightly by census year. In 1940, 1970, 1980, and 1990 it was defined as "Black." In 1950 and 1960 it was defined as "Nonwhite." In 2000 and 2010, it was defined as "Black/African American Alone" as individuals were able to choose two or more races starting in 2000. This is a limitation of the available census data.

Figure 7: Percent Change in Total Population in New Orleans

1940 -­‐ 1950 1950 -­‐ 1960 1960 -­‐ 1970 1970 -­‐ 1980 1980 -­‐ 1990 1990 -­‐ 2000 2000 -­‐ 2010 % Population 15% 10% -­‐5% -­‐6% -­‐11% -­‐2% -­‐29% Change Source: US Census, 1940; US Census, 1950; US Census, 1960; US Census, 1970; US Census, 1980; US Census, 1990; US Census, 2000; US Census, 2010.

Figure 8: Black-­‐Owner Occupied Units as Percentage of All Owner-­‐Occupied Units in New Orleans

1940 1950 1960 1980 1990 2000 2010 Black-­‐Owner Occupied Units as Percentage of All Owner-­‐ 14% 19% 22% 53% 46% 54% 52% Occupied Units Source: US Census, 1940; US Census, 1950; US Census, 1960; US Census, 1970; US Census, 1980; US Census, 1990; US Census, 2000; US Census, 2010.

Notes 1. Definitions of "Black/African American" population differed slightly by census year. In 1940, 1970, 1980, and 1990 it was defined as "Black." In 1950 and 1960 it was defined as "Nonwhite." In 2000 and 2010, it was defined as "Black/African American Alone" as individuals were able to choose two or more races starting in 2000. This is a limitation of the available census data.

2. This percentage was used in order to compare how Black homeowners were distributed across the city of New Orleans.

Figure 9: Housing Units in New Orleans

Total Housing Units

1990

2000

2010

225,573 215,091 189,896

% Change 1990 -­‐ 2010 -­‐15.8%

Total Owner-­‐Occupied Units

82,349

87,589

68,003

-­‐17.4%

Total Black/AA Owner-­‐Occupied Units

37,513

46,994

35,616

-­‐5.0%

Source: US Census, 1990; US Census, 2000; US Census, 2010.

Figure 10: Black Homeownership in 1950

Source: US Census, 1950.

Figure 11: Black Homeownership in 1960

Source: US Census, 1960.

Figure 12: Black Homeownership in 1990

Source: US Census, 1990.

Figure 13: Black Homeownership in 2010

Source: US Census, 2010.

Figure 14: Municipal Funding by Census Tract

Source: City of New Orleans Municipal Funding, 2006 -­‐ 2010.

Figure 15: Road Home Funding by Census Tract

Source: Road Home Funding, 2006 -­‐ 2010.