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Fast Company
9 hours ago
- General
- Fast Company
As Metro Detroit grows for a second year in a row, neighborhoods have shifted
Following decades of population loss, Detroit may finally be turning a corner. According to the U.S. Census Bureau's most recent estimates, the city saw an increase in population for both 2023 and 2024. An additional 11,000 people moved into the city in the years 2023 and 2024, a small gain in a city with a population of 645,705—but one which marked a symbolic shift. The census data shows just over 1% growth in the past year alone and 0.7% the year before compared with a nearly 25% loss between 2000 and 2010. As an urban sociologist studying issues related to race and ethnicity, I am interested in how Detroit's population is changing, and where different groups live in both the city and its suburbs. Analyzing population trends in the metro Detroit area using data from the U.S. Census Bureau, I wanted to understand how racial, ethnic and socioeconomic trends are unfolding, and what those changes can tell us about the evolution and vitality of Detroit. Black Detroiters relocate, city diversifies From 2010 to 2023, Detroit's racial and ethnic makeup continued to gradually diversify even as the city was declining in population. While Black residents are still the majority, their proportion of the total number fell from around 84% to 79%. Other groups, in contrast, increased their share of the city's population. Between 2010 and 2023, the percentage of Hispanic residents grew from 6.6% to 8.3%, the percentage of white residents grew from 8.2% to 10.7%, and the percentage of Asian residents grew from 1.3% to 1.7%. These shifts reflect a steady and ongoing diversification of Detroit's population, indicative of new migration trends and shifting neighborhood dynamics. Suburbs in flux In addition to Detroit's recent population growth, a broader story is unfolding in the city's suburbs. The population of the suburban area as a whole increased 0.73% from 2023 to 2024, but growth was not evenly spread. Collectively, the outer-ring suburbs gained almost 20,000 people, increasing by 1%. Communities such as the city of Troy and Macomb Township accounted for a significant share of that growth. Inner-ring suburbs, such as Southfield, Warren and others, grew less vigorously – gaining just 4,000 people, or 0.31%. These differences highlight the necessity of complicating the conventional city-versus-suburb narrative to acknowledge the many economic and racial divisions across the metropolitan region. The socioeconomic statuses of residents of the inner- and outer-ring suburbs diverged between 2000 and 2020. My analysis of census data shows that although both subregions witnessed increases in median household incomes, the rates of change were significantly higher in the outer-ring suburbs, with a 37.7% increase versus a 16.8% increase in the inner rings. The data shows a similar trend in higher education attainment. Outer ring suburbs gained 7.1% more residents with college degrees or higher during this period, while the inner suburbs lost 7.5%. Homeownership patterns in the two suburban regions also diverged over those two decades, increasing 18% in the outer rings and decreasing 10% in the inner rings. The data on poverty and immigration also reveal contrasting results. According to my calculations of census data, inner-ring suburbs experienced a 77% increase in poverty, while the outer ring experienced a lesser, though considerable, 50.8% bump in poverty during the 2000-2020 period. Meanwhile, during the same time period, the foreign-born populations in the outer suburbs expanded by 24.9%, with increases of at least 10,000 in places such as Sterling Heights, Novi and Canton. In contrast, the inner suburbs saw more modest gains—around 5,000 in cities such as Dearborn Heights and Warren—while their overall foreign-born share declined by nearly 20%. Together, the above trends highlight the necessity of not viewing the suburban area as a monolith. These patterns reflect national trends, in which many older, inner-ring suburbs are experiencing socioeconomic stagnation or decline while newer, outer-ring suburbs continue to attract more people who have higher incomes. Mixed neighborhoods grow Residential segregation also differentiates inner and outer suburban rings. Segregation levels remain high in the inner suburbs, especially between white and Black residents. While outer suburbs tend to be more integrated today, the rate of change there has been more modest over the past two decades. Social scientists measure segregation using a tool called the 'dissimilarity index.' The index represents the proportion of one group that would need to move to establish an equal distribution of the population based on their relative numbers. It ranges from 0 to 100. A score of 0 means equal distribution across neighborhoods, while a score of 100 means the two groups live in completely separate areas. From 2000 to 2020, white-Black segregation across the region decreased from 84.4% to 68.3% on the index, while white-Hispanic segregation decreased from 47.6% to 39.9%. Together, these numbers indicate a broader trend toward more integrated living patterns. In the inner-ring suburbs, segregation fell across the board. White-Black segregation went down by 15.6%; white-Asian and white-Hispanic segregation dropped even more, by 43.2% and 30.7%, respectively. These trends suggest that while the outer suburbs currently have lower levels of segregation, the inner suburbs are integrating more rapidly, reflecting shifting patterns of neighborhood change and increasing racial and ethnic diversity.
Fast Company
29-05-2025
- Business
- Fast Company
Today's housing crisis could learn from this 1960s anti-poverty program
In cities across the U.S., the housing crisis has reached a breaking point. Rents are skyrocketing, homelessness is rising and working-class neighborhoods are threatened by displacement. These challenges might feel unprecedented. But they echo a moment more than half a century ago. In the 1950s and 1960s, housing and urban inequality were at the center of national politics. American cities were grappling with rapid urban decline, segregated and substandard housing, and the fallout of highway construction and urban renewal projects that displaced hundreds of thousands of disproportionately low-income and Black residents. The federal government decided to try to do something about it. the Model Cities Program. As a scholar of housing justice and urban planning, I've studied how this short-lived initiative aimed to move beyond patchwork fixes to poverty and instead tackle its structural causes by empowering communities to shape their own futures. Building a great society The Model Cities Program emerged in 1966 as part of Johnson's Great Society agenda, a sweeping effort to eliminate poverty, reduce racial injustice and expand social welfare programs in the United States. Earlier urban renewal programs had been roundly criticized for displacing communities of color. Much of this displacement occurred through federally funded highway and slum clearance projects that demolished entire neighborhoods and often left residents without decent options for new housing. So the Johnson administration sought a more holistic approach. The Demonstration Cities and Metropolitan Development Act established a federal framework for cities to coordinate housing, education, employment, health care and social services at the neighborhood level. To qualify for the program, cities had to apply for planning grants by submitting a detailed proposal that included an analysis of neighborhood conditions, long-term goals and strategies for addressing problems. Federal funds went directly to city governments, which then distributed them to local agencies and community organizations through contracts. These funds were relatively flexible but had to be tied to locally tailored plans. For example, Kansas City, Missouri, used Model Cities funding to support a loan program that expanded access to capital for local small businesses, helping them secure financing that might otherwise have been out of reach. Unlike previous programs, Model Cities emphasized what Johnson described as 'comprehensive' and 'concentrated' efforts. It wasn't just about rebuilding streets or erecting public housing. It was about creating new ways for government to work in partnership with the people most affected by poverty and racism. A revolutionary approach to poverty What made Model Cities unique wasn't just its scale but its philosophy. At the heart of the program was an insistence on ' widespread citizen participation,' which required cities that received funding to include residents in the planning and oversight of local programs. The program also drew inspiration from civil rights leaders. One of its early architects, Whitney M. Young Jr., had called for a ' Domestic Marshall Plan ' – a reference to the federal government's efforts to rebuild Europe after World War II – to redress centuries of racial inequality. Young's vision helped shape the Model Cities framework, which proposed targeted systemic investments in housing, health, education, employment and civic leadership in minority communities. In Atlanta, for example, the Model Cities Program helped fund neighborhood health clinics and job training programs. But the program also funded leadership councils that for the first time gave local low-income residents a direct voice in how city funds were spent. In other words, neighborhood residents weren't just beneficiaries. They were planners, advisers and, in some cases, staffers. This commitment to community participation gave rise to a new kind of public servant – what sociologists Martin and Carolyn Needleman famously called ' guerrillas in the bureaucracy.' These were radical planners—often young, idealistic and deeply embedded in the neighborhoods they served. Many were recruited and hired through new Model Cities funding that allowed local governments to expand their staff with community workers aligned with the program's goals. Working from within city agencies, these new planners used their positions to challenge top-down decision-making and push for community-driven planning. Their work was revolutionary not because they dismantled institutions but because they reimagined how institutions could function, prioritizing the voices of residents long excluded from power. Strengthening community ties In cities across the country, planners fought to redirect public resources toward locally defined priorities. In some cities, such as Tucson, the program funded education initiatives such as bilingual cultural programming and college scholarships for local students. In Baltimore, it funded mobile health services and youth sports programs. In New York City, the program supported new kinds of housing projects called vest-pocket developments, which got their name from their smaller scale: midsize buildings or complexes built on vacant lots or underutilized land. New housing such as the Betances Houses in the South Bronx were designed to add density without major redevelopment taking place—a direct response to midcentury urban renewal projects, which had destroyed and displaced entire neighborhoods populated by the city's poorest residents. Meanwhile, cities such as Seattle used the funds to renovate older apartment buildings instead of tearing them down, which helped preserve the character of local neighborhoods. The goal was to create affordable housing while keeping communities intact. What went wrong? Despite its ambitious vision, Model Cities faced resistance almost from the start. The program was underfunded and politically fragile. While some officials had hoped for US$2 billion in annual funding, the actual allocation was closer to $500 million to $600 million, spread across more than 60 cities. Then the political winds shifted. Though designed during the optimism of the mid-1960s, the program started being implemented under President Richard Nixon in 1969. His administration pivoted away from 'people programs' and toward capital investment and physical development. Requirements for resident participation were weakened, and local officials often maintained control over the process, effectively marginalizing the everyday citizens the program was meant to empower. In cities such as San Francisco and Chicago, residents clashed with bureaucrats over control, transparency and decision-making. In some places, participation was reduced to token advisory roles. In others, internal conflict and political pressure made sustained community governance nearly impossible. Critics, including Black community workers and civil rights activists, warned that the program risked becoming a new form of ' neocolonialism,' one that used the language of empowerment while concentrating control in the hands of white elected officials and federal administrators. A legacy worth revisiting Although the program was phased out by 1974, its legacy lived on. In cities across the country, Model Cities trained a generation of Black and brown civic leaders in what community development leaders and policy advocates John A. Sasso and Priscilla Foley called ' a little noticed revolution.' In their book of the same name, they describe how those involved in the program went on to serve in local government, start nonprofits and advocate for community development. It also left an imprint on later policies. Efforts such as participatory budgeting, community land trusts and neighborhood planning initiatives owe a debt to Model Cities' insistence that residents should help shape the future of their communities. And even as some criticized the program for failing to meet its lofty goals, others saw its value in creating space for democratic experimentation.
