Acclaimed journalist Bob Herbert explores the often heroic efforts of black families
to pursue the American dream in the face of unrelenting barriers. AGAINST ALL ODDS: The Fight for a Black Middle Class premieres Monday, March 6 at 10PM on THIRTEEN.
[ Indistinct shouting ]
>> The nigger is not a part of
my family.
As a result, I don't elect to
have him sit and eat with me.
As a result, I don't elect to
have him belong to a club that
I may belong to.
>> There's a whole nother life
if you're black.
There's a whole layer that
people don't see, or don't
appreciate, in terms of what you
have to do to just make it
through every day.
[ Indistinct shouting ]
>> This whole history of white
rioting and white violence --
historically buried.
People think of violence and
riots in the street, they always
think of the 1960s, when black
people rioted.
But whenwhite people rioted, it
doesn't even have a name.
>> There's still large segments
of the country that are not
going to first evaluate what I
do, but they're just gonna make
snap judgments because my skin
is not white.
>> I'm Bob Herbert.
For nearly half a century, I've
covered some of the biggest
stories and most important
issues to face the American
people as a reporter and a
columnist at theDaily News in
New York, at NBC News, and at
The New York Times.
This is a story about race,
about persistent, depraved,
often murderous racial prejudice
and discrimination, and
especially how that racism has
affected the black middle class.
The United States views a strong
middle class not just as an
ideal, but as its proudest
creation.
But theblack middle class is
not and never has been the same
as thewhite middle class.
Whites talk about working hard
and playing by the rules, but
blacks have always had to play
by a different hateful set of
hideously unfair rules.
Working hard has never been
enough for black Americans to
flourish.
Nearly 40% of all black children
in America are poor.
The black unemployment rate is
twice that of whites.
And the black middle class is
far more fragile and has much
less wealth than the white
middle class.
In fact, blacks are not even in
the sameleague with whites when
it comes to wealth.
For every dollar of wealth in
the hands of the average white
family in America, the typical
black family has just a little
more than a nickel.
Why these terrible disparities
are still the case a century and
a half after slavery and a
half-century after the heyday of
the civil rights movement is
what I'll try to explain in this
documentary.
[ Mid-tempo music plays ]
It's not easy to get a handle on
black America.
There are an awful lot of
African-Americans doing awfully
well.
>> This is for you, Billy.
>> Cultural heroes are
commonplace.
Black stars are dominant in the
sports world.
And there are fabulously
successful African-Americans in
media and the fine arts.
>> The door tonight has been
opened.
>> And, of course, Barack Obama
was elected to two terms as
President.
But at the same time, black
America has been wracked by
terrible poverty...
>> Our boys won't be silenced no
more!
>> ...too much tragic violence,
and disastrous relations with
law enforcement at every level.
>> [ Chanting ] I can't breathe!
>> Oh, my God.
Please don't tell me he's dead.
>> Where does the middle class
fit in to this picture?
>> I think the perception of
blacks in general is either what
you see on TV -- you have both
ends of the spectrum.
You see folks who are very poor,
crime-ridden neighborhoods, or
you see the blacks that are
uber-wealthy, like you see on
TV.
There's nobody in the middle
who's -- they have a nice home,
they make a decent living, but
they're not uber-rich.
And I think the perception is
that there is no middle for us.
I think the ones in the middle
just kind of get...dismissed or
not even thought about.
>> But you're real.
>> We're here. We're real.
>> The black middle class is
real, all right, but it's
fragile.
It's not the same as the white
middle class.
>> White families have about
$113,000 in financial assets or
wealth, and that average
African-American family has
$5,700.
And that's a pretty devastating
gap.
>> 80% of African-Americans have
a net worth below the median net
worth of white Americans.
>> 80%.
>> 80%.
Meaning that, fundamentally, the
notion of economic stability
that middle class connotes is
something that African-Americans
are still striving towards.
About a third of
African-Americans have no
assets.
>> Zero.
>> Zero.
>> The disturbing truth is that
America's black middle class has
never been as large or as robust
as most people -- including most
black people -- have wanted to
believe.
To get a real understanding of
why this is the case, we have to
take a look back.
[ Eerie piano music plays ]
In the early part of the 20th
century, 90% of
African-Americans lived in the
South.
To say that they were oppressed,
treated cruelly, is an
understatement.
They were treated as if they
were subhuman.
Elijah Cummings is a U.S.
Congressman from Maryland.
He's also the son and grandson
of Southern sharecroppers.
Cummings and his wife,
Dr. Maya Rockeymoore, are
exploring his family's origins
in South Carolina.
>> Meaning he had to have born
in --
>> In slavery, right. Isaac.
>> Isaiah was born in 1885,
right after --
>> Isaiah Cummings was my
grandfather, and he fell sick on
a Sunday.
And they brought him home and,
some kind of way, they got two
doctors to come out and -- two
white doctors, an old one and a
younger one.
And so the younger doctor said,
"You know, we need to really get
this man to a hospital, or else
he's gonna die."
And the older white doctor said,
"Don't worry about him.
He's only a nigger."
>> What?
>> And that night, my
grandfather died.
>> Mm-hmm.
>> And my father, to his death,
I think, was very upset about
that.
>> Slavery ended, but things
didn't change.
People still lived on land that
was owned by others.
They still worked for profits
that went to others.
Working conditions were harsh.
Children weren't getting
educated.
There was a lot of illness,
early death.
And people didn't see a way out.
Sharecropping was nothing but
slavery under a different name,
and that was the status of a lot
of black people.
>> The majority of the people
who were doing sharecropping
never cleared anything at the
end of the year, so that this
was something that kept people
in debt to the landowner and in
debt to the planter, which meant
that, for all intents and
purposes, they were not much
better off than their enslaved
ancestors had been.
[ Soft piano music plays ]
My grandmother's house was
basically a wood cabin, and,
literally, you could look
through the floor and see the
ground.
My father would work from sunup
to sundown, plowing fields,
picking cotton, strawberries,
tobacco.
He was truly a sharecropping
farmer and, back then, got very,
very little per day.
>> Sharecroppers often worked
year after year forno money.
They were cheated by landowners
and had virtually no legal
recourse.
>> They would take the kids out
of school at an early age to
work the fields.
>> Yeah.
>> To work the fields.
You wouldn't -- We were talking
about, when we ride up here,
ride through all this land,
somebody had to plow this land.
>> And they shut down the
schools during harvest time so
that the kids could come out and
help with the harvest.
>> It's hard to imagine the
growth of a healthy black middle
class from this wretched soil.
>> There are many examples of
Southern governors and lawmakers
who would say, "Well, what would
be the point of investing in
education for these people when
all we need them to be is a cook
or domestic or to work in the
field?
How much education could they
need?"
>> James K. Vardaman was
explicit on that point.
Governor of Mississippi, and
then U.S. Senator in the early
1900s, he had sworn to lynch
every black person in the state,
if necessary, to maintain white
supremacy.
"The only effect of Negro
education," Vardaman said, "was
to spoil a good field hand and
make an insolent cook."
[ Heartbeat ]
>> It was a regime of
totalitarianism, in some ways.
>> Whatever you had could be
taken away the moment some white
woman accused a black man of
looking at her the wrong way, a
white family thought that a
black family was doing too well,
getting uppity.
People tried to exercise a few
rights, suggest that they had
them -- any of those things
could get you lynched.
[ Heartbeat ]
>> It was against the law for a
black person and a white person
to just play checkers together
in Birmingham.
Everything you could imagine was
segregated.
There were separate elevators.
There were separate staircases.
There were separate taxicabs.
And so that meant that, at every
turn, at every moment, every
single thing that you did, you
had to be keenly aware and
observant and vigilant as to
where you happened to be and
making sure that you were not
crossing a line.
Any breach of that caste system
could mean injury, attack, and
even death.
>> The Ku Klux Klan...
>> And, always, there was the
violence.
>> They terrorized Negroes and
their sympathizers with
violence, arson, and murder.
[ Heartbeat ]
>> They took them and put them
in jail, and they beat them.
And then they got together on a
Saturday, and they tied them
with barbed wire, hands and
feet, and put barber wire around
their neck and put the father on
one side of the bumper and the
son on the other side of the
bumper, and they drug them all
over the town.
And after they were drug through
the neighborhood, the Negro
neighborhood, they were told
that, "This is the way that
we're gonna keep the nigger in
his place."
[ Minor key piano plays ]
>> A black schoolteacher in
Florida named Harry T. Moore
tried to fight back against the
systematic terror.
In January 1944, he learned
about a black teenage boy who'd
had the temerity to send a
Christmas card to a white girl.
After she showed the card to her
father, he and a group of his
angry friends gathered.
They seized the boy and forced
his father to watch as they
hog-tied and tortured him, then
drowned him in a river.
Moore, founder of the local
NAACP, and his wife, Harriette,
spent their adult lives battling
such outrages.
They fought against mob violence
and for equal pay for black
teachers.
At great personal peril, they
tried to get black people
registered to vote.
Both were fired from their
teaching jobs and blacklisted.
They were not safe anywhere,
least of all in their own home
in rural Mims, Florida.
On Christmas night, 1951, the
Moores' 25th wedding
anniversary, a bomb exploded
under their bedroom as they
slept.
They were taken to a hospital 35
miles away.
By the time the only available
black doctor could be located,
Harry T. Moore had died.
Harriette said she had no desire
to live without her husband.
Eight days later, she also died.
[ Jazzy piano music plays ]
Even in that violent, hateful,
repressive environment, some
faint stirrings of a black
middle class could be felt.
>> You had African-American
professionals and
businesspeople, funeral parlors,
and undertakers.
They served the African-American
community.
Their jobs and livelihood did
not depend on working for a
white company, a white family,
or a white institution.
>> Morial's mother, Sybil, a
teacher and community leader in
New Orleans, grew up in that
environment.
>> We had a very comfortable
life in this bubble where we
were protected because we were
among our own, independent on
our own, and there was a lot of
entertaining.
I guess we mimicked the white
society.
[ New Orleans jazz music plays ]
My mother entertained with
organizations like the Links and
the Boule.
But you were inside this secure
bubble.
And you stepped beyond, and it
was another world.
You knew your limitations.
When a white person was walking
on the sidewalk and a black
would be walking toward them,
they had to step down off the
curb to let the white person
pass.
You knew what not to do.
You knew not to step beyond the
Louisiana laws.
>> But blacks who improved their
lot were always at risk.
A small enclave of prosperous
black entrepreneurs in Tulsa,
Oklahoma, became known as the
"Negro Wall Street."
They had their own shops, banks,
newspapers, restaurants, and
theaters -- the makings of a
self-sustaining middle class.
[ Indistinct shouting ]
But in May 1921, riots broke out
when blacks tried to stop an
angry white mob from lynching a
young black man.
[ Explosions ]
Black homes and businesses were
attacked with firebombs and
gunfire, and the National Guard
was called out.
The violence lasted 16 hours.
[ Slow jazz music plays ]
When it was over, the
Negro Wall Street was wiped out.
[ Music continues ]
>> The depravation, the horrors,
and the humiliation would
eventually prove unbearable.
>> They tried the South, they
tried to stay in the South, and,
after a while, they were just
done.
Lynchings were still happening.
Jim Crow was still very much
there.
"Separate but equal" was a joke.
And a lot of people just said,
"Let's just go North."
[ Jazz drum solo plays ]
>> They came out of the South by
the millions, in search of a
better life for themselves and
their children.
They carried very little besides
the clothes on their back, a
package with just enough food
for their journey, and a dream.
Unnoticed by most journalists,
unacknowledged by early
historians, their journey came
to be known as the
"Great Migration."
[ Mid-tempo jazz music plays ]
>> The Great Migration was an
outpouring of 6 million
African-Americans from the South
to the North, the Midwest, and
West.
It was a search for freedom, a
search for the ability to pursue
their dreams for both themselves
and for their children.
>> Their main objective was paid
employment.
>> In the first part of the last
century, the labor force,
certainly of white males, was
being siphoned off into the war
effort.
>> Well, they actually were
recruiting.
The Northern businesses, the
Northern industries, railroads,
and the factories and the steel
mills of the North needed labor,
and they went to the South to
find them because they were
looking for the cheapest labor
in the land, which would've
meant African-Americans.
When the recruiters came, they
actually had to take great care
in doing so because it turned
out that there was great
resistance in the South to this
"poaching."
>> Resistance among whites?
>> Yes.
>> [ Laughs ]
Whites in the South did not want
blacks to leave?
>> They did not want thelabor
to leave.
>> We have a good set of Negroes
here, and they don't want to be
disturbed.
Of course, there are some
getting some...ideas, and that's
all right.
That's progress.
But we've got some mighty good
darkies here.
[ Train whistle blowing,
up-tempo swing music plays ]
>> The Great Migration was the
largest internal migration in
America's history.
>> There are a lot of legendary
railroad lines that we associate
with the Great Migration now.
The Illinois Central,
City of New Orleans, is one of
the most legendary railroad
routes.
[ Music continues ]
There were three streams that
the people used to escape.
One was up the East Coast, which
carried people from Florida,
Georgia, the Carolinas, and
Virginia to Washington, D.C.,
and Philadelphia and New York,
up the East Coast of our
country.
And then there was the Midwest
stream from Mississippi,
Alabama, Tennessee, and Arkansas
to Chicago and Detroit,
Cleveland, Minneapolis.
And then there was a West Coast
stream, which carried people
from Texas and Louisiana out to
California and then all the way
up to Washington State and even
beyond.
[ Mid-tempo jazz piano plays ]
Some people drove, drove all the
way out, particularly when they
went out to the West Coast.
It could be perilous because
Jim Crow extended beyond the
borders of the South, in many
cases, where, if they were
driving, they had to be very
cautious.
There were lots of places where
they could not necessarily be
assured of getting gas, could
not be assured of getting a room
for the night, could not be
assured of being able to get
food or to be able to eat in a
restaurant.
So there were lots of obstacles
and barriers that they had to
overcome.
>> People didn't know that they
were trading a challenging
situation, a difficult
situation, a harsh situation in
the South, indeed, for a new
form of discrimination and
exclusion, indeed, in the North.
[ Mid-tempo jazz music plays ]
>> For one thing, the promise of
good jobs was vastly overstated.
Some blacks found lower-echelon
work in the factories of
industrial cities, but, for
most, the only option was menial
labor, sometimes of the most
humiliating variety.
>> All right, Jeeves.
Now, let's get going, son.
>> This humiliation, accepted as
normal by most whites, was often
captured in the popular
entertainment of the time.
>> Good gracious, mister!
Aah! Mr. Chan!
>> Any more sandwiches?
>> Oh, sure. I got lots of 'em.
>> Good night, Ed.
>> Good night, Mr. Wynn.
>> Black people really weren't
allowed to get really good jobs.
Domestic work, overwhelmingly,
is what black women did.
>> My mother, she worked in a
pickle factory, if I recall
correctly, and then she did a
lot of domestic work.
Dad was a laborer -- lifting
drums, breathing chemicals all
day.
>> Men participated in all sorts
of -- whether it was cutting
grass, gardening, cooks,
drivers, janitorial workers.
The jobs that were at the very
bottom of the economy
substantially were held by
African-Americans.
A good job was being a Pullman
car porter.
[ Mid-tempo music plays ]
>> Blacks considered Pullman
porter to be a middle-class job.
>> The thing that made it middle
class was that they were being
paid relatively well,
particularly compared to other
African-Americans.
And they had a uniform, and they
were moving about with important
and respected people.
So it was a revered occupation
to have, and yet it's an
indication that still,
essentially, these were people
who were servants.
[ Music continues ]
>> For a lot of blacks, the only
route to a decent job was
self-employment.
My family was a family of
tradespeople.
They were upholsterers.
My mother was a seamstress.
My father was an upholsterer, my
grandfather was an upholsterer.
I cannot believe that my
grandfather's old upholstery
shop is now this boutique
restaurant.
It used to say,
"R.S. Herbert Upholstering,
established 1927."
This store right here, I came in
and out of that door a million
times when I was like -- I don't
know -- seven, eight, nine years
old, right on up through high
school.
I used to work here after
school.
This place was really important
to my family because my
grandfather owned the shop
during the Depression.
And he had five kids, and it
kept his family from being
destitute.
In those days, in Montclair, if
you were black, there was not
much in the form of gainful
employment to be had.
But if you had a business, that
was different.
And my grandfather had a
business.
[ Minor key piano plays ]
Largely shut out of private
employment, the real route to
the middle class for
overwhelming numbers of blacks
was government employment -- as
teachers in black neighborhoods,
for example, or lower-level
municipal workers, or in the
post office.
>> The post office not only
offered a good career in and of
itself, but you could get a
part-time job at the post
office.
You could teach during the day,
and you could sort mail at
night.
You could put together a pretty
decent living.
>> My grandfather got a good
government job.
He was the driver of the trash
truck in Norwalk, Connecticut,
which I guess was supposed to be
somewhat prestigious that you
were the driver, not actually
picking up the trash.
They were able to buy a home in
Norwalk.
They always said that they had a
great life.
Like, in my dad's mind, they
didn't consider themselves poor.
By some people's standards, they
might have, but they didn't
consider themselves poor.
>> In that era, which lasted
through much of the 20th
century, it didn't matter -- if
you were black -- how smart you
were or how hard you worked.
Blacks were seen as a servant
class, and that's the way they
were treated.
Even highly accomplished black
professionals had a hard time
making it into the middle class.
Black doctors were shunned by
white patients and were not
allowed to practice in white
hospitals or join white medical
associations.
Sybil Morial's father was a
doctor.
>> My father grew up on a farm.
He went to Straight College,
which is now Dillard University,
but there was no medical school
here.
So he went to Howard University,
and he interned at
Freedmen's Hospital.
He came home and opened a
practice, but what's interesting
is that they could not take
their patients or even set foot
in the white hospitals.
>> I'll never forget, you know,
I went to my sixth-grade
counselor.
He said, "What do you want to
be?"
I said, "I want to be a lawyer."
And he said, "You can never be a
lawyer."
He said, "Your father is a
laborer.
He didn't go very far in school.
Your mama didn't either."
He said, "There's no way."
He said, "I think you need to
aim a little lower."
And then he said these words
that have lived with me in
every -- for every day of my
life.
He asked me the question, "Who
do you think you are?"
>> So this counselor was
essentially slamming the door on
the dream of a sixth grader...
>> That's right.
>> ...instead of opening the
door.
>> So I found, my whole life,
almost everything I did was
trying to prove him wrong.
[ Minor key piano plays ]
>> Z. Scott is a former federal
prosecutor who grew up in deeply
segregated Shreveport,
Louisiana, and now lives in
Chicago.
When she graduated from law
school, a career in corporate
law was virtually out of the
question.
>> The opportunities were
limited.
At the time, most lawyers of
color were in government because
there were no opportunities in
private practice.
>> So you basically couldn't get
a job.
>> The stories you hear of --
You know, I went into a law firm
for an interview.
When I walked through the door,
you know, the person
interviewing me looked at me,
didn't want to take my coat.
When I sat down, they spent the
rest of the interview telling me
how horrible it was to work
there.
And then I got my coat, and I
left.
That wasn't the only time I had
that sort of experience where
you, couple of interviews in,
you know this is not a welcome
place.
>> So it was pretty much a
government job or bust.
>> That was pretty much it.
[ Mid-tempo jazz music plays ]
>> The quest for a black middle
class, severely hampered by the
lack of decent employment, was
made all the more horrendous by
the vicious and often violent
refusal of whites to allow
blacks into decent housing.
It was a crisis faced
immediately by blacks who were
part of the Great Migration.
>> Chicago, for example, the
neighborhoods that
African-Americans had moved in
to had previously lived in by
waves of Lithuanians or Italians
or Greek immigrants.
So that housing stock had been
old to begin with and not
necessarily maintained very
well, 'cause these had been
rentals.
And then, when African-Americans
arrived, they arrived in such
large numbers that the owners
ended up subdividing those homes
to make what they would call
"kitchenette apartments," where
there would be sometimes
multiple families living in a
two- or three-room apartment,
sharing a kitchenette.
They were actually paying more
per square foot than almost
anyone else in the city, not
because of the high quality of
the housing, but because the
demand was so great that the
landlords could charge them more
for less.
And then, on top of that, where
they were living, they were
actually considered the vice
districts of these cities, where
they might never havechosen to
be, but these were the only
neighborhoods that they were
permitted to live in.
[ Indistinct conversations ]
>> This is the first building on
this block where a white owner
sold to a black resident.
This was a solidly white area,
and it was a solidly white
block.
And Chicago was a very
segregated city, and there was a
very small area where black
people lived.
It was called the "Black Belt."
>> We're talking about a narrow
strip roughly from about
35th Street, down to about
47th Street.
That's where all
African-Americans were in the
city of Chicago.
>> The black families are not
allowed into the suburbs.
There was -- they called it the
"Chicago wall," the wall around
Chicago keeping black peoplein.
>> When the first Negroes began
to move in, a kind of collective
panic seized the white
residents, most of whom were of
Irish descent.
It seemed to be taken for
granted that there was no
possibility of white and black
living side by side in peace and
harmony.
No attempt was made to integrate
the newcomers into the white
community.
>> There were instances when
blacks began to move on to a
block where you would see an
open amount of hostility to that
family moving in to the block.
>> From the mid 1940s on, there
were a series of riots, usually
thousands of people massing
around one building where a
black family had moved.
>> A Negro bus driver,
Harvey Clark, rented an
apartment here on July 11, 1951.
>> Clark, an army veteran, and
his wife, Johnetta, tried to
move outside the Black Belt of
Chicago, to Cicero.
>> He was a bus driver.
She was taking care of their two
young children.
They had been living in that
narrow band of space to which
African-Americans were consigned
on the South Side of Chicago at
that time.
They were actually living in an
apartment that they shared with
another family.
And so, when they found this
apartment, they were thrilled to
be able to find a place that was
actually convenient to his work.
And upon arrival, they were met
with the sheriff and other
authorities who would not permit
them to go in.
They then had to go and get a
court order to move in to the
apartment that they had already
rented.
They returned with the court
order to move in, but, as they
were moving in, there was a
crowd that began to swell.
At one point, there were 4,000
people who gathered around
them -- so hostile that they
were not permitted to actually
move in themselves that night.
And after they left, some people
in the mob went into the
apartment, ransacked it, and
hurled out of the window the
sofa, the chairs, the table.
They ended up wrenching the
radiators and the faucets and
the toilets and the sinks out of
the wall and hurling them out of
the window.
>> So it's like a crazed mob.
>> A crazed mob.
And then, after they did that,
they then set the whole building
afire so thatno one could live
in the building.
[ Woman screams ]
>> They hurled firebombs, rocks,
and bottles at the building.
Before the disturbance was over,
martial law had been declared in
the area.
[ Indistinct shouting, glass
shattering ]
In all, 23 persons were injured,
a dozen others arrested.
>> As more people arrived, they
began to push the boundaries
further and further as to where
they could live, merely because
they were bursting with little
in the way of options where they
were.
As they attempted to leave,
that's when they ran into the
redlining and the restrictive
covenants that meant that they
were not able to move as freely
as they might have hoped.
>> Well, redlining is remarkably
descriptive.
Insurance companies and banks
had maps where they literally
drew red lines on the map
around neighborhoods.
"And so this is an area that we
are not going to lend in."
Typically, what would happen is
that a bank or an insurance
company would make a decision
about the racial composition of
the neighborhood.
So if it began to transition to
an African-American
neighborhood, it was deemed as
"too risky," right, too risky to
grant mortgages in that
neighborhood or to insure
properties.
>> In those days, banks were
local.
Typically, most banks operated
in one town.
So there also an unwritten code
that said, "We won't rent to, we
won't sell to, we won't finance
a home that an African-American
wants to buy."
Indeed, real-estate agents
wouldn't evenshow homes to
African-Americans in
"non-African-American
neighborhoods."
So you had a officialdom plus
custom working hand in hand to
maintain a system of just
outright exclusion and denial.
I mean, it was truly an American
system of apartheid.
>> The federal government would
not insure FHA loans for black
people.
It was written in their
handbook.
And then, because of that, the
banks followed suit, and they
just did not make regular
mortgages or conventional
mortgages to anybody that was
living within certain redlined
districts.
>> Because banks refused to
loan, black people were left
with the alternative of buying
on contract, which is
essentially the same as buying
on an installment plan.
>> There are blocks like this
scattered throughout the
Lawndale section of Chicago's
West Side ghetto.
The people who live here bought
their homes from real-estate
speculators at double or triple
their value, and they bought on
contract because they couldn't
get conventional or FHA
mortgages.
Under the contract, the buyer
makes installment payments at
high interest, but he builds no
equity.
If he defaults on even one
payment at any time during the
contract, he loses the property
and everything he's paid in to
it.
>> It was Jack Macnamara who
organized college students to do
property research one property
at a time, and they did every
property in this eight-block
surrounding area.
And they found out all had been
sold on contract, all had
suffered immense markups, and
everyone living here was
struggling to make those
payments.
>> If you have a $25,000
contract and the FHA appraisal
is for $15,000 and you're paying
interest on $10,000 more than
you should be paying...
We have good information that at
least $500 million was legally
stolen from the black community
in Chicago alone during the
period between 1940 and 1970.
>> Contract sellers and other
speculators were making so much
money they began to deliberately
panic whites into leaving their
neighborhoods.
>> Speculators understood that,
if they can get the whites who
lived here to leave, they could
turn around and resell the
properties at a very significant
markup to black people who
wanted these nice, beautiful
brick homes.
>> So they essentially came here
and provoked the homeowners into
selling their property?
>> Right.
What would happen is a salesman
would go to your door and say,
"Hi.
Are you interested in selling?"
And you'd say, "No, not really."
They'd say, "Fine.
You don't want to sell?
Don't worry.
I'll be back in a week, and I'll
offer you, mm, $1,000 less.
But fine. No problem.
Just wait it out if you'd like
to.
You should know blacks are
coming.
Your home will be worth less
very soon.
Sell now.
Get out while you can."
[ Minor key piano plays ]
Often, middle-class black
families would be the first to
move in to a white area.
>> 4338. That's the address.
>> What happened here, it's a
good example of the kind of
violence that black families
faced.
This particular house was
purchased in 1959 by a black
couple, Josh and
Barbara Hargrave, and they had
four children.
They could afford to move to
this area.
They put a $9,000 down payment
at a time when a $1,000 down
payment was considered quite
good.
Once they moved in to the
property and people saw who was
living there, you had three days
of rioting in the streets, up
to -- from 1,000 to 5,000 white
people in the streets, stoning
the building, throwing lighted
torches at the building.
People would go around to the
back porch, which is wooden, and
try to set fire to it.
They were chanting, "We want
blood."
You know, "Get out of here.
We don't want you here."
>> So these riots became a
common occurrence?
>> They were common.
People talked about it summer
after summer.
This whole history of white
rioting and white violence has
been historically buried.
When people think of violence
and riots in the street, they
always think of the 1960s, when
black people rioted.
But whenwhite people rioted, it
doesn't even have a name.
[ Indistinct shouting ]
>> Get out of here!
>> Ilive here!
Those [bleep] niggers don't live
here!
[ Shouting continues ]
>> Tell them niggers to go home!
>> My understanding is that,
when these mobs just sort of got
out of control, they would be
screaming the worst kinds of
things.
>> And that was quite traumatic
for parents and children alike,
parents who don't want their
children to hear such a thing.
Imagine seeing this.
And so, yeah, they'd be
screaming, "Nigger, go home!
Die, nigger, die."
In other neighborhoods in
Chicago, they had little chants
like, "I wish I was an Alabama
trooper.
That's what I would like to be.
Because if I was an Alabama
trooper, I could murder niggers
legally."
[ Indistinct shouting, gunshot ]
Martin Luther King, when he came
to Chicago, said that, "People
in Mississippi should come to
Chicago to learn how to hate."
>> How do you feel about this
reception, sir?
>> Well, this is a terrible
thing.
I've been in many demonstrations
all across the South, but I can
say that I have never seen, even
in Mississippi and Alabama, mobs
as hostile and as hate-filled as
I have seen in Chicago.
>> But the march will go on...
[ "Make it Rain" plays ]
[ Indistinct shouting ]
>> Get out of here!
[ Shouting continues ]
>> ♪ You find your pleasure
♪ In someone else's pain
♪ Not a cloud in the sky
♪ You will still find a way to
make it rain ♪
>> One of the heartbreaking
things about the whole situation
was that basically black people
and white people were pursuing
the same middle-class values.
They wanted to save money.
They wanted to invest in a
property that they could take
care of and call their own.
But when white people did that,
they were rewarded, as you would
expect, with usually property
appreciation and a sense of
stability.
But when black people followed
the same identical path of
attempting to save and invest,
they were punished.
It becomes a method of luring
them into a trap that will end
updraining them of wealth
instead of helping them tobuild
wealth.
[ Mid-tempo music plays ]
>> This project represents the
future of a great city.
>> One of the responses to the
influx of people from the South
to the North was the federal
government, with local
government authorities, built
these massive public-housing
developments -- Cabrini-Green,
you know, Pruitt-Igoe in
Saint Louis -- these massive
concentrations.
When you look at the old
brochures and sales pitches that
were made, what people were told
is that these were gonna be
well-kept, as nice as any
penthouse, that there were gonna
be services provided, that this
was gonna beimproved housing,
and it was going to betemporary
housing.
And to some extent, people were
sold a bill of goods, and it
became almost a sanctioned
warehousing.
>> While law and custom kept
blacks warehoused in inner
cities, the mammoth federal
Interstate Highway System,
financed by taxpayers, was
opening up suburbs all across
the country.
This created enormous amounts of
both good jobs and new housing.
But, once again,
African-Americans were left out.
Blacks were not welcome in the
construction and other trades,
and they were systematically
prevented from moving in to the
suburbs.
For example, they were kept out
of the affordable Levittown
communities in New York and
Pennsylvania.
These gateways to the middle
class were initially marked
"white only."
It wasn't until 1957 that the
first black family bought a home
in Levittown, Pennsylvania.
A film captured some of the
reaction.
>> A major factor is fear...
>> I came from a small town
where we didn't have any colored
people.
>> ...fear of economic loss...
>> Well, the property values
will immediately go down if
they are allowed to move in here
in any number.
>> ...and fear of intermarriage.
>> They have told my children
that they have to marry niggers.
>> Six decades have passed, and
the Levittowns are still nearly
entirely white.
[ Mid-tempo jazz music plays ]
There are two fundamental
pillars to the creation of a
middle-class standard of living.
The first is a job.
That is a essential to support a
family and to provide an
education for children.
The second pillar is a home.
The purchase of a home is the
way most families begin to build
wealth, and wealth offers both
economic security and a pathway
to success for future
generations.
Blacks were not only shut out of
most decent jobs -- they were
ruthlessly kept out of decent
housing.
So, this is what's considered
Upper Montclair.
Nice homes.
When I was growing up, my family
and I could not have lived in
any of these homes in
Upper Montclair.
Blacks were just not welcome.
You wouldn't be able to buy a
home.
If you had the down payment, you
most likely would not be able to
get a mortgage.
In those days, even ads in the
newspapers for rentals would say
"whites only," "white tenancy."
And this is in Montclair,
New Jersey, in the 1950s and
'60s.
We're not talking about the
South.
We're not talking about
Mississippi and Alabama and
Georgia and Tennessee.
[ Acoustic blues guitar plays ]
Elijah Cummings parents settled
in Baltimore, Maryland.
In 1964, the family had saved
enough money to move to a better
neighborhood.
Congressman.
>> Hey, Bob.
>> Good to see you.
>> Good seeing you, too.
This is my brother James.
>> James.
>> Good to meet you.
>> When we moved up here, we
thought we were moving in to
heaven.
We had moved from a very small
house, where we were pretty much
on top of each other.
>> Really?
>> [ Laughs ]
>> And now we had four bedrooms
and had a club cellar, even had
a -- not only did we have a
dining room, but had abreakfast
room.
>> Look out.
[ Laughter ]
>> And real grass.
>> And real grass.
>> Real grass, right.
So, when you moved here, did you
guys feel like your family was
moving up in class?
>> Oh, I had no doubt that we
were moving up.
>> Mm-hmm.
>> I mean, you know, when you
are living in a house that's
bigger than the house you had,
that you now have all these
beautiful lawns, and then the
schools being better, you can't
help but feel that you've moved
up, because it's your whole
existence.
Everything you do is different.
>> Right.
Despite the low expectations of
his sixth grade counselor,
Elijah Cummings studied hard and
found a fast track to his
dreams.
>> My father was a role model.
This guy believed in education.
I mean, he would tell us that,
"You know, if you missed one day
of school, that meant you died
the night before."
And he meant it.
I did not miss one hour of
school from kindergarten
straight through graduating from
the 12th grade -- not a moment,
no.
And I did well enough to get
into the high school of my
choice -- Baltimore City College
High School.
And we would have to get up --
Back then, we were in shifts
because there so many students.
But I might have to get up at
5:00 in the morning to catch a
bus to go all the way across
town, but I was happy to do it.
I was happy to do it because it
gave me pride and it gave me
hope.
>> He earned a spot at one of
America's leading black
colleges -- Howard University in
Washington, D.C.
>> My father took me to Howard.
And before he let me out, he
said, "Boy," he said, "your mama
and me, we done brought you as
far as we can."
He said, "You know, we didn't
have that much education."
He said, "But we gonna leave you
in the hands of these smart
people up here.
And they're gonna give you a
good education."
When I got to Howard, it was
far, far, far more than I ever
dreamed of.
I had never seen that many black
professionalsanywhere in one
place.
And I went into my classes --
and just brilliant, brilliant,
very caring African-American and
white professors who cared about
the students, wanted us to
achieve things.
I knew I was on my way.
>> Cummings became a lawyer, his
childhood dream, and, in 1996,
he was elected to Congress.
>> When I became a congressman,
my father came to see me get
sworn in.
He was in the balcony.
Newt Gingrich was swearing me
in.
And my father...
was crying.
I never seen my daddy cry.
Said, "Daddy, you crying.
Why you crying?"
I said, "You crying 'cause you
so happy that I became a
congressman?"
He said, "I'm really proud of
you."
You know, he said, "Don't get me
wrong.
I'm really proud of you.
I know that, in this place, they
used to call us slaves.
In these place, they called us
three-fifths of a man.
In this same place, they called
us chattel."
He said, "So I'm really proud
that they now gonna call you a
congressman."
He said, "But the thing that
made me cry was that, realizing
that I was deprived of an
education, I now realize what I
could've been."
And every single time, every
time I walk through the halls of
Congress, I think about that --
now a man who was slowly
approaching his death, talking
about what hecould've been.
>> We're coming to an area where
my father had two stores in the
1960s and '70s on Main Street in
Orange, New Jersey.
In those days, this was a pretty
thriving, middle-class business
district.
My father was one of the few
black business owners.
So, the main reason these shops
did so well had to do with the
clientele, most of whom came
from the suburbs.
That's where the money was,
that's where my father's
customers came from, and we were
just up there all the time,
giving estimates, fitting slip
covers, measuring for draperies,
carrying furniture out to be
reupholstered.
They were heady times for my old
man and for my mom.
What they needed, though, and
what my father wanted was to
expand.
So I would be with him when he
was talking with other business
owners.
These were white business owners
who had larger businesses than
my father.
And they liked my old man, and
they lived the work that he did.
And so they would say, "Chester,
you have to expand your
business."
And they'd say, "Get a bank
loan."
So funny, you know?
"Get a bank loan."
[ Chuckles ] He needed to raise
capital, so the answer was, "Get
a bank loan."
Well, they couldn'tget a bank
loan.
They weren't giving bank loans
to guys who look like my father.
>> Here is Mr. Adams with the
president of the
Elmville National Bank.
>> Well, I think we can make you
this loan.
And this is where you sign.
>> It wasn't just the private
sector throwing up these
maddening roadblocks.
In 1935, Congress enacted
Social Security only after
Southern segregationists were
assured its benefits would not
go to agricultural and domestic
workers -- the jobs held by most
blacks.
So, for example, a woman could
work faithfully for 40 years as
a maid and then retire with no
pension, no Social Security --
no money at all.
Blacks fought valiantly in
World War II, but, when they
came home, they found that in
many states, especially in the
South, they were being denied
the benefits of the GI Bill.
Those benefits lifted millions
of whites into the middle class
in the years after the
Second World War.
[ Slow martial drum beating ]
[ Slow brass music plays ]
I've frankly found it remarkable
that blacks were able to
establish any kind of economic
foundation in the U.S.
With every improvement in their
economic or social
circumstances, black Americans
met resistance from white
supremacists.
And yet, by the mid 1960s, a
significant black middle class
existed, and it was growing.
The civil rights movement and
the policies of
President Lyndon B. Johnson
substantially improved the
quality of life for black
Americans.
Congress passed and Johnson
signed the Civil Rights Act of
1964 and the Voting Rights Act
of 1965.
[ Applause ]
>> We seek not just freedom but
opportunity.
We seek not just legal equity
but human ability -- not just
equality as a right and a theory
but equality as a fact and
equality as a result.
[ Applause ]
>> Even as riots were raging in
the wake of the assassination of
the Reverend
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.,
Johnson signed the
Fair Housing Act of 1968.
It prohibited discrimination in
the sale, rental, and financing
of housing based on race,
religion, natural origin, and
sex.
Throughout the '60s and '70s,
black students were enrolling in
colleges and universities in
greater numbers, and
affirmative-action policies were
prying open additional doors of
opportunity.
[ Jazz music plays ]
Most important of all in terms
of the growth of the black
middle class was the continued
growth in the access of
government jobs for blacks.
Government employment at the
federal, state, and local level,
including management and
supervisory jobs in the agencies
created during the
War on Poverty, has, more than
any other single factor, lifted
large numbers of blacks out of
poverty and into the middle
class.
With so much bias in the private
sector, there wouldn't be much
of a black middle class at all
without government employment.
>> More and more millions of
Americans...
>> But as the black middle class
grew, it met with a fierce
backlash.
>> Massive busing produces
inferior education.
>> New but equally insidious
strategies of resistance were
developed by white leaders...
>> And we're going to enforce
the law, and Americans should
remember that if we're going to
have law and order.
>> They're paying people on
welfare today for doing nothing.
>> ...with coded language and
deceitful policy pronouncements
designed to disguise hostility
to blacks.
>> Government is not the
solution to our problem.
Governmentis the problem.
>> Listen to Lee Atwater, a key
advisor to Ronald Reagan and
George H.W. Bush, explaining how
to get racist whites to vote for
Republicans.
>> You know?
>> Reagan opened his 1980
general-election campaign near
Philadelphia, Mississippi,
where, in 1964, three young
civil rights workers were
brutally murdered by white
supremacists.
Reagan made a sly reference to
the enthusiastic white crowd
that had come to that notorious
site to hear him.
"States rights" was the term
that had long been used to
justify first slavery, then
segregation.
Everyone recognized it as a dog
whistle that signaled support
for bigotry.
[ Cheers and applause ]
>> If we just reflect on the
fact that, for 250 years, we had
slavery, 100 years of Jim Crow,
and there's all of this
indoctrination that you're
inferior and your life is not
worth very much 'cause you're
black, I think a lot of that was
internalized.
I still see a lot of black
people, even professional black
people, who internally struggle
with feelings of inferiority,
that they still have to prove
themselves.
I knowI did that.
>> Poussaint did his psychiatric
training at UCLA.
>> I couldn't get an apartment
in Westwood, where UCLA was,
because they didn't rent to
blacks.
Had to send out other doctors to
try to rent an apartment for me.
And then I met the same type of
prejudice among doctors and the
trainees at UCLA, where one
doctor invited me to his party,
the chief of a department, and
one of the residents, white
residents, came and said, "The
invitation was just his being
polite.
He doesn't really want you to
come, because he believes in
segregation and he was recruited
from a Southern university."
Embedded in all of this, these
values and behaviors, was white
supremacy.
>> That bigotry is a reality
that has touched virtually every
African-American.
>> When I was four, my parents
moved to a white neighborhood.
I remember the move-in day, how
excited we were to be in the
house.
A couple of days later, we were
playing outside, and two white
children came out next door.
They were almost exactly our
ages and size.
We ran to the fence.
They ran to the fence.
It looked like, "Wow, we have
great neighbors, and they're our
age!"
The mother came out, screaming
at the children, calling us
names, and started beating the
children to tell them not to
play with us.
It happened two or three other
times, and it got to the point
where our parents taught us
that, if we were playing and
those children came out, we
should immediately come in so
that the children would not be
beaten.
>> I'll give you a story, and
this is one of the biggest
moments of my young-adult life.
When Karla was pregnant, we took
a trip to New York, and we went
by train.
So I'm dressed as conservative
andGQ as you could possibly
be -- to the 9s, 10s, and 11s.
I was just kind of moving up in
the world and, you know, feeling
it.
Karla was clearly seven, eight,
nine months pregnant.
And I just remember being at
Madison Square Garden, trying to
hail a cab.
And this scruffy white guy was
walking right behind us -- not
that he did anything wrong,
just, you know, had on jeans,
and I specifically remember
there's a hole in his jeans, and
he was just kind of, you know,
casual.
I raised my hand to get a cab.
They slow down.
They're coming towards us.
And then he comes up, and he
does the same thing a few feet
in front of us.
And the cab driver accelerates,
almost runs over my shoes, picks
up this guy.
I look at the guy because he
knows that clearly he just, you
know, "jumped in line."
And he just looked at me, and he
just kind of like, "What are
you gonna do?"
And he shrugged.
I really wanted him to say, "No,
cad driver.
You back up, and you pick up
that pregnant woman -- and her
well-dressed husband."
[ Laughing ] You know?
I wanted him to say that because
then that would've sort of said
society is against that type of
behavior.
But that's not what happened.
No matter how I define myself,
there's still large segments
of the country that are not
going to first evaluate what I
do, but they're just gonna make
snap judgments because my skin
is not white.
>> Sybil Morial recalled what it
was like when she headed off to
Boston, to college.
>> I went on a train to Boston.
I went to Boston University.
And my father brought me to the
train station.
We had to go around the corner
to the back entrance to go in.
When you walked up to the train,
the porter said, "Go in here."
That was the first car behind
the engine.
That was the colored car.
And half of it was the baggage
car.
It was the baggage car.
So we had to go -- He said, "Go
up the steps, and go to your
right."
>> So, black people, called
colored people in those days,
had to ride in the same car with
the baggage?
>> That's right.
There was a division, but half
was for baggage and half for
colored people.
>> By this time, you're of
college age.
You have a real familiarity with
what's going on.
How'd you feel?
>> Well, it didn't feel good.
But it was the reality, and so
you adjusted to it.
It's very interesting -- the
dining car setup was we could
eat in the dining car, but you
were seated at this table next
to the kitchen.
And after you were seated, they
drew a curtain around you.
[ Ominous music plays ]
>> The exclusion, the deliberate
humiliation, the violence, the
nonstop discrimination, it all
fed a pervasive anger and often
rage among blacks that most
often was kept under wraps.
>> My father, when he came home
from work, he would always sit
in his car.
I don't care how cold it was or
how hot it was.
And I said, "Dad, why do you do
that?
Why'd you just do that?"
He said, "Because the pain, the
racism and stuff I was going
through, was so rough on me I
wanted to make sure I did not
come into my family angry and
then take it out on them."
>> We used to call it, "You're
wearing a mask," so you can take
your mask off when you come
home.
It just means that you put on a
different face.
There's certain things you hear
at work where, if you weren't at
work, you were in another
situation, you might've blown up
at them.
If someone said something to you
that you felt could be perceived
as racially offensive, at work,
you don't blow up.
You just kind of take it in
stride.
You take a breath, you keep
moving.
>> I remember my first year as a
federal prosecutor.
The things that happened in the
office -- people coming up to
you and asking you to type, you
know, type for them, and going
into courtrooms, people assuming
that you were the court clerk,
asking you when the judge is
gonna come on the bench.
And I recall a friend of mine --
we were working together.
She went to court as a
government attorney, and she's
black.
And the judge said, "It would be
great if the government had
shown up."
Because he assumed that, she was
black, that meant she was the
defendant in the case.
Things like that, that happened
day in, day out.
And, you know, gives black
professionals -- We're all
suppressing a certain amount of
rage, the rage from being -- you
know, people treating you as if
you're not competent, that you
don't deserve to be in the chair
that you're sitting in.
And it's something that you have
to manage, but it's just not
healthy to live like that.
[ Mid-tempo jazz music plays ]
[ Indistinct conversations ]
>> Despite everything, despite
the long, hard struggle, the
racism, and social
marginalization, it looked as if
the 21st century might be
heralding a new era of
increasing black prosperity.
Wages had climbed modestly,
unemployment rates had declined,
and home ownership was up.
Z. Scott, after a stint in
government as a federal
prosecutor, became a corporate
lawyer, and was appointed a
partner at her firm in
Chicago -- a city in which,
still today, less than 1% of law
partners are black women.
>> So we started the
Black Women Lawyers Association
and brought together black women
judges and lawyers and corporate
lawyers and law-firm lawyers,
all coming together so we could
talk about that common
experience.
And that we got here as a result
of...
>> For those of you who are new
to BWLA, we were born out of a
time where black female
attorneys were looking for
support.
Black middle class is having an
obligation.
It has a stronger sense of
accomplishment when you think
about the idea that you're a
part of a race that, for so
long, you weren't allowed to
know how to read and you weren't
allowed to go to school.
So when you think about being
black middle class, it makes you
just a little bit more proud of
what you've been able to
accomplish because you have
opportunities that your
forefathers did not have.
>> My grandmother actually came
to Chicago in the 1940s, after
picking cotton in Mississippi.
And the only thing she wanted
for me and for all of us was the
chance to be part of a black
middle class.
>> One of the largest black
middle-class communities in
America is
Prince George's County,
Maryland, just outside
Washington, D.C.
Brent Swinton and his wife,
Karla, live here with their two
daughters.
He's a professional fundraiser.
She's in marketing.
>> Mom.
>> Hmm?
>> When you make omelettes, it's
just not my taste.
>> Yes, itis.
>> Well, when you make scrambled
eggs.
But whenI make omelettes, the
world stops and stares for
awhile.
>> [ Chuckles ] They do?
>> To me, middle class means
that we're not really rich,
rich, rich, and we're not really
poor, so we're in the middle.
>> Being black middle class
means that, wherever you've
arrived, you've only been there
just in the span of your life.
>> Rakes.
>> We may have arrived to a
degree, but we just got here.
So it's still not quite the
same.
I drive through a neighborhood
in Bethesda which is absolutely
white, and they're not the
wealthiest of the wealthy, but
there's something that has gone
on, that takes place over more
than one generation, that allows
them to pass along a much
greater head start.
I don't begrudge them anything,
because I want to do that formy
kids.
I want to leave them something
tangible and valuable.
But in general, people who are
just across that finish line
into being middle-class blacks,
it's a new experience.
Mommy always asks how come I
don't pay somebody to do this.
Look, I've already done a
quarter of a yard.
Pretty soon, you guys won't need
me out here at all.
You just handle it.
>> No.
>> The absence of wealth makes
it extremely difficult for
African-American parents to pass
their middle-class status along
to their children.
And there's nothing to fall back
on if there's an economic
reversal.
>> When you have no wealth or
very little wealth, that means
you have nothing to rely on.
You have no assets that can be
readily translated into cash to
help support yourself, and that
means that, you know, you're
looking for probably public
assistance to help you put food
on your table and keep a roof
over your head, or you're
entering the ranks of the
homeless.
>> You don't have anything to
cushion the blow.
>> There's no cushion.
>> Right.
[ Bell dinging rapidly ]
>> That absence of wealth, a
major weak spot in the fragile
underpinnings of the black
middle class, proved
catastrophic when, almost
without warning, the economy
collapsed in the Great Recession
and housing-foreclosure crisis.
>> Big trouble for millions of
American homeowners, as a
slowing housing market has
turned some mortgages into time
bombs.
>> Former Fed Chairman
Alan Greenspan wrote, "The
current crisis is likely to be
the most wrenching since the end
of the Second World War."
>> The entire middle class was
hurt by the crisis, but for the
black middle class, the
economic setbacks were
devastating.
>> The housing crisis in 2008
wiped out the wealth of black
people, and they are not even
close to recovering.
>> Decades of African-American
progress were reduced to ruins
in a seeming instant.
>> Businesses, banks, and
others -- brokers -- were
functionally wealth-stripping,
deliberately wealth-stripping
from communities of color.
>> Like the contract buyers of
old, blacks were targeted for
bad loans.
>> If you're African-American
making more than $100,000, you
were more likely to be put into
a subprime loan than if you were
a white person making less than
$35,000.
>> Cross burnings are the most
overt form of discrimination and
bigotry.
Lending discrimination is some
of the most subtle.
It's what I call "discrimination
with a smile."
>> We've developed a culture in
this country of legalized
stealing from poor and oppressed
people, and particularly
African-Americans.
>> Many who had a
middle-class -- stable
middle-class lifestyle pre the
recession find themselves in a
less stable, stressful
situation.
Many who may have owned their
homes donot own their homes.
Many who worked in a
better-paying job now work in a
job that pays far less.
>> The Dunwell family in
Springfield, Massachusetts, felt
the ground beneath them opening
up when David lost his job in
the Great Recession.
>> Immediately, upon losing my
job, I tried to work and
negotiate with the banks to see
if I could bring my mortgage
payment down a little bit.
There was a lot of
back-and-forth between me and
the banks.
They needed some form of income
that was steady, and
unemployment was not what they
considered acceptable income.
After nine months, the bank
started sending letters, pretty
much letting me know that
they're starting the foreclosure
process.
I had to approach my family, and
I had to explain to them what it
is that we were going through.
And that was the toughest part.
That was good teamwork, girls.
>> This house is our money pit.
[ Laughs ] We put a lot of
sweat --
[ Laughs ]
We put so much towards this
house.
I mean, it means everything just
to have a home.
>> Help us in Thy cause...
>> The Dunwells decided to fight
the foreclosure.
>> The bank had this idea that
they were going to punish
homeowners for bad behavior.
But the banks had created this
crisis, this economic crisis,
and no one really punished the
banks.
They took bailout money.
That bailout money, part of it
was supposed to help the
consumer, help the homeowners to
be able to stay in their homes.
At no point did they come up
with an idea or plan to help
these homeowners who had fell
behind in their payments.
>> And so we believe that people
who've been foreclosed on should
have...
>> I'm hoping that we're able to
buy back our homes at this point
and really be done with this.
There's a lot of people
throughout this country that are
suffering, have lost their life
savings.
>> The Great Recession and the
housing crisis showed once again
just how elusive the American
dream has been for
African-Americans.
>> African-Americans have not
had a fair shot at the American
dream.
They've hardly had a fair shot
at anything, and it is quite
extraordinary that
African-Americans have managed
to do as well as they have.
The discrimination that has your
house not earning any value,
your job not paying as much as
it would've paid if you had been
white, and access to very few
jobs has made it hard for black
people to get on a highway to
opportunity.
They've been on little roads,
back roads to opportunity, but
haven't been on a highway.
>> Have African-Americans had a
fair shot at the American dream?
>> No.
No, I don't think they've had a
fair shot, because they've been
systematically discriminated
against, and that has not
disappeared.
So, no, I don't think we've had
a fair shake at the American
dream.
>> Have African-Americans had a
fair shot at the American dream?
>> No.
>> No?
>> No.
>> End of story?
>> End of story.
>> I don't even think the full
story of the overt racism in
this country has been well-told,
and I don't think most people
understand it.
The moresubtle forms of
discrimination are not even
addressed at all.
People pretend that those subtle
forms of discrimination, which
are incredibly debilitating,
people pretend that they don't
even exist.
And then there all kinds of
people who practice racism who,
in my view, are racists because
they treat black people like
second-class citizens.
They don't want to live in the
same neighborhoods as blacks.
They don't want their kids to go
to school with black children.
These folks don'tconsider
themselves racist, but theyare,
and they're inflicting harm on
African-Americans.
They keep African-Americans out
of decent jobs.
They keep African-Americans out
of decent neighborhoods.
This is something that needs to
be fought against and fought
against hard and relentlessly,
and I don't think it's been
fought against nearly hard
enough.
[ Bird cries ]
>> We face this great
contradiction in terms.
You know, on one hand, we see a
black man achieve the highest
office in human history, the
presidency of the United States.
Yet you see a recession that has
cost all people but, more
severely, black people a great
deal of wealth and a great sense
of economic gains.
And you see a vicious political
movement in this country that
wants to suppress the vote.
So it's a contradiction in
terms -- the best and the worst,
to some extent, side by side.
[ Slow jazz music plays ]
>> When I think of the black
experience in America, the word
that comes to mind is "heroism."
Black people, in the face of the
worst kinds of exploitation and
oppression, refused to stay in
their so-called "place."
They have refused to allow
whites to confine them within
social and economic boundaries
defined by race.
Always, there was someone to
take a stand, whether it meant
resisting the terrors of
Jim Crow or the murderous
violence of white supremacists
or the denial of the right to
vote or when parishioners are
murdered in the sacred confines
of houses of worship.
The suffering has, at times,
been unimaginable, and the great
gleaming promise of America has
never been as bright for black
Americans as it has been for
whites.
But none of that has mattered.
Blacks have never given in.
Millions of blacks have in fact
made it into the American middle
class, and some have even become
very wealthy.
Millions of young
African-Americans have graduated
from college and gone on to
distinguished careers.
Statistics show that there is
still a very long road to
travel.
There is far too much poverty
and very little real wealth in
the black community.
The criminal-justice system is
too often responsible for
outright atrocities.
And blacks have never approached
the true heights of their
educational potential.
And even now, the rigging of the
rules continues with
voter-suppression campaigns, the
rollback of the
Voting Right Act, and the
relentless assault on the
government jobs so crucial to
black advancement.
But no amount of cruelty or
injustice will stop that black
advance.
There are no barriers that can't
be overcome.
When dreams remain unrealized,
it simply means the fight goes
on.
[ Slow jazz music plays ]
[ Mid-tempo jazz music plays ]