INTERSTATE 35: A SYMBOL OF RACIAL SEGREGATION

AUSTIN, Texas – Interstate 35, with beginnings in Laredo and a longtime symbol of racial segregation in Austin, traverses the midwestern part of the country, cuts through Minneapolis and ends in Duluth. This unexpected connection reveals how the construction of highways and interstates continue to affect African-American communities across the United States to this day. 

During the late 1800s and early 1900s, African-Americans began moving into downtown Austin to find jobs. These now-freed slaves worked mainly lawn, maid and handyman types of jobs throughout the city. As a result, small black neighborhoods formed in areas close to these workplaces. 

After a 1917 Supreme Court ruling, segregational zoning laws were considered illegal, but cities began planning ways to continue to marginalize minorities. The 1928 Koch and Fowler city plan, written by outside consultants, Koch and Fowler, was the beginning of legalized segregation in Austin. With this plan, city services, including schools, parks and other amenities, would only be provided for minorities in certain areas of the town. This was the birth of the “Negro District” on the east side of what is now Interstate 35. 

 “Zoning is made to protect neighborhoods, but here African-American communities lived right next to railroad tracks that were right next to small industries,” said Dr. Robert Wilson, Mike Hogg Professor in Urban Policy at the University of Texas at Austin. “In the new zoning code, East Austin could be industrial, as well as residency.”

The “separate, but equal” strategy allowed for this segregation and new types of zoning, and contributed to the quality of the entire community. The majority of East Austin was labeled as “hazardous”, according to the Home Owners’ Loan Corporation 1935 Risk Map. The HOLC map outlined redlined districts, where individuals were denied services, usually determined by race, by local, federal and private agencies.

Brown v. The Board of Education in 1954 ruled the “separate but equal” doctrine was unconstitutional. This ruling made it illegal for schools to be all-white or all-black, so schools began the process of integration. White families began moving into the suburb areas outside of Austin to avoid interracial schooling. This became known as “white flight.”

The African-American population in Austin declined throughout the 70s and 80s as a result of civil rights legislation and better opportunities to move out of town. The 80s also established the beginning of gentrification in East Austin, and by the 2000s, a big majority of the district was conformed to middle-class living. 

Dr. Tara Dudley, lecturer in the School of Architecture at UT Austin and independent architecture historian, has spent a lot of her time in East Austin researching and talking to the community to find ways to claim historic districts. Dudley expressed her concern on how fast construction is taking over communities in East Austin. 

“People have told me about going to sleep, waking up, and the little shotgun house next door would be demolished because the contractors came in the dark of night to tear them down,” Dudley said.

Today the African-American population in Austin is down to 7.8%. 

This racial phenomena, constructed around interstates, is not uncommon across the country. In Minneapolis, Minnesota, at the birthplace of the current civil rights movement, Interstate 35 also has an unequal history. 

According to Peter Rachleff, co-founder of East Side Freedom Library and retired history professor from Macalester College, Interstate 35 West, which runs through Minneapolis, was built through a predominantly poor community that was significantly African-American and Native-American. Rachleff said lots of people were displaced with its construction in the 1960s, and it still remains an impoverished part of town. 

“I think the same mindset that judges people by the monetary value of their property, and does not see the cultural richness that communities may have, has also made decisions about the U.S. Highway System all over the country,” Rachleff said. 

In a city that has been plagued with racial bias and unrest for many years, there are organizations, like Rachleff’s, that are pushing towards unity, equality and a solution to this century-old problem. 

Rachleff and Beth Cleary co-founded the East Side Freedom Library in St. Paul, Minnesota, in 2014. The library serves as a center to collect resources and curate programs that focus on telling the stories of historically marginalized people groups, and to attempt to build bridges among the diverse communities in East St. Paul, according to Rachleff. 

“We believed that if people could share their stories with each other, they would discover how much they actually have in common. We mainly use the arts as a vehicle to get people to share their stories with each other,” Rachleff said. 

Another movement organization that is eager for change is Voices for Racial Justice in Minneapolis. Founded in 1993, VRJ is committed to building power through collective cultural and healing strategies for racial justice across Minnesota using organizing, leadership training, community policy and research, according to their website. Beginning with their own team made up of only people of color, VRJ strives to give people of color a louder voice. 

“We practice what we're working towards: greater resilience and racial justice for colored and indigenous communities,” said Brett Grant, Director of Research and Policy at the organization. 

From handing out supplies to protesters, to opening up mini-salons for community members to making calls to the governor’s office, VRJ is constantly working with the community to produce change. In regards to the racial segregation in the city, VRJ has convened with local politicians and community members on what rebuilding efforts should look like in minority communities.

VRJ strives to maintain a nuanced approach towards justice ideas with what they have coined a “soil-tending” approach. 

“It is an ecological approach to racial justice organizing,” Grant said. “We’re really working in community, convening different conversations, being very thoughtful and slow in terms of addressing what toxins exist in our community. Whether it's our own egos, our own oppressions, our own expressions of white supremacy, our own expressions of patriarchy, there are all kinds of toxins that we have to address.”

With plans to end racism internationally, Voices for Racial Justice has no plan at stopping their efforts.

These unique organizations are combating against the systemic racism that plagues the United States. With origins tying back to the construction of the nation, the issue is not one that will be solved overnight, but rather take individuals, cities, counties and states working together to combat this systemic inequality.