Abstract

Excerpted From: Jordan M. Fields, You Cannot Make My Blackness a Burden: How America Uses Taxation to Maintain the Racial Wealth Gap and Prevent Black Flourishment, 21 Pittsburgh Tax Review 245 (Spring, 2024) (136 Footnotes) (Full Document)

 

JordanMFieldsThis Note is written from the perspective and positionality of the descendant of an enslaved person who ran away from the plantation on which they were held captive to fight in the Union Army during the Civil War; the descendant of a sharecropper who died laboring in the tobacco fields of North Carolina; the grandchild of a Black veteran who was denied the benefits of the G.I. Bill; that is to say, from the perspective of someone whose family has endured undue burdens in the United States because of our skin color. My family's story is not unique, but like countless others, it illustrates the cost, across generations, of being Black in America.

This Note explores how Black Americans' and subsequently Black communities' ability to build wealth has been stifled, in part, by the U.S. property tax system, which has made it extremely difficult for the people who created much of America's wealth to build it for themselves. I will present a case study on neighboring New Jersey municipalities to show that despite the state allegedly having one of the fairest property tax systems in the nation, disparities in property taxes result in unequal opportunities for Black and white homeowners in neighboring communities to build wealth through their homes. Data shows that homes in predominantly white neighborhoods are appraised at approximately three times the value of comparable homes in communities of color, and those homes appreciated approximately $200,000 more in the last decade than those in predominantly Black neighborhoods. Moreover, research shows that white homeowners prefer to live in white communities and that, once the Black population of a neighborhood reaches 10%, property loses approximately 16% of its value. This reality puts Black prospective homebuyers in a bind--if they want their investment in a home to result in some sort of equity or wealth, their best chance at doing so is to purchase a home in a predominantly white community.

While Black Americans who purchase homes in predominantly white communities might have a better chance of building wealth through their homes, their property taxes often consist of two payments--a financial tax to support local institutions and infrastructure, among other things, and a tax on the mind, body, and soul, caused by racially charged interactions with white neighbors and community members. I hesitate to call these interactions microaggressions because that phrase implies that these interactions have a small impact and are rooted in white innocence or ignorance. The tax I am speaking of may even be considered by some to be a form of the “Black tax,” explored by Jody Armour, which refers to the price Black people pay in their encounters with white people due to racial stereotypes. With white Americans serving as “tax collectors,” the “Black tax” is imposed on Black people of all socioeconomic statuses, including those living in middle- and upper-class communities, and affords tax-exempt status to no one. In tandem, the financial property tax payment and the “Black tax” experienced by Black homeowners in white communities paid in exchange for a home that will (hopefully) build wealth, present a particularly heavy financial and emotional burden on many Black homeowners. While the additional property tax I am theorizing is collected through an emotional payment, this is not the first time in U.S. history that Black property owners have faced a double tax burden, hindering their ability to build wealth. This is not the experience of all Black homeowners who live in white neighborhoods, but it is the experience of enough of them that the combination of financial and emotional property taxes must be considered before advocating homeownership as the preeminent way for Black Americans to build wealth and prosper.

 

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As a society, we are subconsciously taught to understand Blackness as a burden that must be overcome to achieve success. This is the reality for many Black homeowners who choose to purchase homes in white communities. They will be expected to pay the invisible tax--that is to say, to yield to the standard of whiteness--in exchange for the opportunity to live in a community where they have the best chance at building wealth. In communities like Maplewood, Black families, like my own, might leave with money in the bank when they sell their homes, but they might also leave questioning whether or not the stress they endured from living in a town where they were subjected to years of racism was truly worth it. The calculation of this opportunity cost is going to be different for every Black homeowner. Some will be able to “afford” or be willing to pay the cost of these emotionally taxing experiences; conversely, others might be able to afford the down payment, mortgage, and financial property taxes on a home, but the additional emotional tax might be too high a cost to bear, rendering the home unaffordable.

My family's story, again while not unique, exemplifies how the cost of owning a home in a community where it is most likely to create wealth is much steeper than any of us are led to believe and, like the century-old colonial home my parents bought in Maplewood in 1997, with time comes additional costs. It bears repeating that my family was not alone in shouldering this tax burden. Data reflects that as of 2020, 54% percent of Black people live in suburbs, so these additional costs are being experienced by more of us now than in 1997. Knowing this to be true, we must end the practice of asking Black people to saddle themselves with unnecessary burdens in the hope of unguaranteed payoffs. The only thing we are guaranteeing by encouraging Black people to prioritize wealth-building homeownership, over homeownership that maximizes well-being, is the emotional tax associated with the burden America tries to place on Blackness.


Candidate for JD, December 2024, University of Pittsburgh School of Law. Candidate for MSPPM, December 2024, Heinz College of Information Systems and Public Policy, Carnegie Mellon University.