We Refuse to Be Priced Out of the Communities We Built Part II

Brian mullins
Jun 22
3 min read

Context

Chicago's Black communities have a long history of creating value that was later extracted or controlled by outside interests.

During the 20th century, Black Chicagoans were largely confined to a narrow "Black Belt" through racially restrictive covenants, violence, discriminatory lending, and real estate practices. Neighborhoods such as Bronzeville became centers of Black culture, business, music, journalism, and political life despite severe segregation. Yet many Black-owned businesses and neighborhoods were later disrupted by urban renewal projects, highway construction, public housing policies, and institutional expansion.

Historian Arnold Hirsch famously described aspects of Chicago's development as the creation of a "second ghetto," where public and private policies concentrated Black residents while limiting their ability to build and retain wealth.

The construction of Dan Ryan Expressway, urban renewal efforts around University of Illinois Chicago, and institutional expansion by major organizations displaced thousands of Black residents throughout the twentieth century.

The Obama Center Debate

The Obama Presidential Center has always generated two competing narratives.

One narrative emphasizes:

Symbolic importance.
Jobs and economic activity.
International visibility.
Recognition of the first Black president.
New investment in long-neglected areas.

The other asks:

Who receives the economic gains?
Who bears the costs?
Will existing residents be able to remain?
Will wealth generated by the project stay in Black communities?

Community coalitions spent years advocating for a Community Benefits Agreement (CBA), arguing that legally enforceable protections were needed to prevent displacement and ensure affordable housing, local hiring, and economic opportunities. While some protections and city initiatives were adopted, activists argued they fell short of a binding CBA.

Why Some Residents Compare This to a Larger Pattern

The concern is not merely about one building.

It is about a recurring historical pattern in which Black culture, Black labor, Black creativity, and Black political achievements generate enormous economic value, while ownership and long-term wealth accumulation remain concentrated elsewhere.

Examples frequently cited include:

Blues, jazz, rock and roll, and hip-hop generating billions while many Black artists died with limited wealth.
Black neighborhoods producing cultural prestige later used to market redevelopment.
Universities and hospitals expanding into historically Black areas.
Professional sports and entertainment industries built on Black talent but often controlled by non-Black ownership.

This critique is not that investment itself is bad. Rather, it asks why Black communities so often become the source of value rather than the primary owners of that value.

Comparison to Chinatown

Many observers point to Chinatown as an example of a community that has maintained stronger ethnic continuity over generations.

There are several historical reasons this comparison is complicated:

Chinatown developed around concentrated immigrant-owned businesses.
Property ownership became more consolidated within the community.
Strong family, clan, and business associations helped preserve institutions.
Population turnover often occurred within the ethnic community rather than through wholesale replacement.

By contrast, Black Americans did not arrive in Chicago as voluntary immigrants with independent capital networks. Most Black Chicagoans descended from people whose labor had been extracted through slavery and who entered northern cities facing legal segregation, exclusion from credit markets, and housing discrimination.

As a result, Black communities often had less access to the institutional mechanisms that help communities retain ownership across generations.

The Central Question

The question many South Side residents are asking today is not whether they are proud of Barack Obama.

Many are.

Nor is it whether the center should exist.

Rather, the question is:

Can a project celebrating Black achievement become a catalyst for Black wealth-building, or will it become another example in which Black history creates value that is ultimately captured elsewhere?

That question remains open. The answer will likely depend less on the symbolism of the center itself and more on measurable outcomes over the next decade:

Black homeownership rates.
Property tax burdens on longtime residents.
Black business ownership.
Local hiring.
Wealth retained by families in South Shore, Woodlawn, and Jackson Park Highlands.
Whether residents who were there before the investment can still afford to be there afterward.

Those metrics—not ribbon cuttings, speeches, or visitor counts—will determine whether the Obama Center becomes a model of community empowerment or another chapter in a much older story about who creates value and who ultimately owns it.