I’ve spent my life moving through Black urban neighborhoods, feeling firsthand how history, policy, and capitalism collide in ways that leave lasting scars on communities and individuals. The story of Black cities isn’t just about struggle—it’s about resilience—but to understand the lives of people around me, I have to trace the political and economic decisions that have shaped our neighborhoods for generations.

Historical Foundations: Redlining, Segregation, and the Great Migration

I grew up hearing stories from my parents about the Great Migration, when millions of Black families moved from the rural South to northern cities like Chicago, Detroit, and New York. They were escaping Jim Crow laws, seeking industrial jobs, and hoping for a better life—but even in the North, systemic barriers awaited.

Redlining, codified in the 1930s by the Home Owners’ Loan Corporation (HOLC), mapped neighborhoods and marked Black communities as “high-risk,” effectively denying them mortgages and investment. Federal housing programs under the New Deal often excluded Black families, while white families benefited from subsidized loans that fueled suburban growth. Policies like the GI Bill after World War II further entrenched these inequities, providing white veterans access to education and homeownership, while Black veterans were largely excluded due to local implementation discrimination.

These historical policies created concentrated poverty, underfunded schools, and segregated neighborhoods—the urban conditions that neoliberalism would later exploit. Walking past decaying buildings and abandoned lots as a child, I could sense the echoes of decades of deliberate disinvestment.

Neoliberalism Arrives: Reagan, Thatcher, and the Retreat of the State

Neoliberal policies, which rose to prominence under leaders like Ronald Reagan in the United States and Margaret Thatcher in the United Kingdom, shifted the responsibility for social welfare from the state to the individual and prioritized market efficiency over collective well-being. Policies such as the 1981 Omnibus Budget Reconciliation Act, which cut funding for low-income housing, education, and social services, hit Black urban communities disproportionately.

The rhetoric was often about “efficiency” and “self-sufficiency,” but the results were devastating. Public schools suffered budget cuts, libraries closed, and community centers disappeared. Charter schools were promoted as alternatives, yet they often reinforced segregation and lacked the resources of traditional public schools. As a result, I saw children growing up with fewer opportunities than the generations before them, despite living in the same cities.

Housing and Urban Policy: From Public Housing to Gentrification

Public housing, once a cornerstone of urban social policy, fell victim to neoliberal reforms. The Housing Act of 1949 had promised to eliminate slums and provide affordable homes for working-class families, but by the 1980s and 1990s, federal support for public housing was slashed. Maintenance was neglected, leading to unsafe conditions, and programs like HOPE VI promoted “mixed-income” developments that often displaced long-term residents. I watched my friends’ families forced out of neighborhoods they had lived in for decades, replaced by luxury apartments and boutique developments marketed to newcomers.

Gentrification, encouraged by city governments seeking to increase tax revenue and attract investment, commodified Black urban spaces. Historic neighborhoods with vibrant cultural life were transformed into sites for real estate speculation. Streets I once knew became filled with cafes, art galleries, and high-end apartments. While some welcomed improvements, the community ties that made these neighborhoods livable were eroded, and longtime residents were displaced.

Criminalization and the Rise of the Carceral State

Neoliberal policies didn’t just shape housing and schools—they reshaped policing and incarceration. As social welfare programs were cut, punitive measures increased. Policies like the 1994 Violent Crime Control and Law Enforcement Act expanded police budgets, encouraged harsher sentencing, and facilitated the rise of the prison-industrial complex. Black men and women in urban neighborhoods faced over-policing, stop-and-frisk policies, and mass incarceration.

The result was a cycle of poverty and criminalization. Families were disrupted, economic opportunities were restricted, and communities were destabilized. I saw young people with potential caught in this system, their futures limited not by personal failure but by policies designed to manage urban populations rather than support them.

Labor Precarity and Economic Displacement

Neoliberalism reshaped labor markets as well. Cities that had once relied on manufacturing and unionized industrial jobs saw factories close, replaced by low-wage service jobs and gig work. Policies promoting labor deregulation and weakening unions further compounded economic instability. Residents of Black urban neighborhoods often turn to informal economies or multiple low-paying jobs to survive. I’ve seen neighbors working delivery apps by day, cleaning jobs by night, and still struggling to pay rent or afford basic necessities.

Health, Environment, and Policy Neglect

Neoliberalism’s effects extend to health and the environment. Budget cuts to public health programs, privatization of healthcare, and deregulation of utilities have left Black communities vulnerable. The lead contamination crisis in Flint, Michigan, is a stark example: state austerity measures and privatized water management combined with systemic racism to poison a city’s children. In cities like Newark and Baltimore, I’ve seen similar patterns: hospitals overcrowded, clinics underfunded, and environmental hazards disproportionately affecting Black residents.

Resistance, Community Organization, and Policy Alternatives

Yet even in the face of these challenges, Black urban communities resist and innovate. Grassroots organizations, mutual aid networks, cooperative housing initiatives, and community land trusts push back against displacement and exploitation. Programs like Boston’s Dudley Street Neighborhood Initiative show that residents can regain control over development decisions and ensure that investments benefit the community rather than outside investors.

These efforts remind me that Black urban communities are not passive victims of policy—they are active agents shaping their neighborhoods. Participatory budgeting, urban gardens, and cooperative businesses are examples of alternatives to market-driven solutions, demonstrating that equitable urban life is possible when communities are empowered.

Global Connections and Neoliberalism Abroad

The experiences of Black urban communities in the U.S. resonate globally. Structural adjustment programs imposed by the IMF and World Bank in Africa, the Caribbean, and Latin America mirrored domestic neoliberal reforms, cutting social spending, privatizing services, and increasing economic precarity. Cities like Lagos, Kingston, and Rio de Janeiro faced similar pressures: housing insecurity, rising costs, and diminished public services. These connections highlight how neoliberal policies are not isolated but part of a global system that disproportionately impacts Black and marginalized populations.

A Personal Call for Justice

Writing this, I feel both frustration and hope. I am frustrated because decades of policy decisions—from redlining and exclusionary housing programs to neoliberal cuts and privatization—have reinforced inequality. But I am hopeful because I witness daily acts of resilience and resistance: neighbors supporting each other, community-led initiatives thriving, and young people refusing to accept marginalization as fate.

A just urban future requires confronting both the legacies of racial capitalism and the present-day realities of neoliberalism. We must invest in education, healthcare, housing, and labor protections. We must value Black urban communities not as commodities or problems to be managed, but as vital, vibrant spaces of culture, labor, and life. And we must listen to the people living these realities, the ones shaping the streets, the schools, and the neighborhoods that policymakers so often neglect.

I write this as someone who lives in these neighborhoods, someone who has walked these streets, and someone who believes that another way is possible. Black urban communities have endured centuries of systemic exploitation; they will endure neoliberalism too—resisting, surviving, and ultimately transforming the city into something just, equitable, and alive.