A New Vision

Carlson re ects on all of that. She said that people began to conceptualize how to get their American dream — go to college, get a good job and buy a home — in the postWorld War II era.

“ ere was this idea that you could have all of this,” Carlson said.

More Americans these days, she said, are de ning success on their own terms. More folks might see homeownership as a relic, even something that holds them back in life, rather than necessary for all of their needs and desires.

“Buying a home is probably something that some people want,” Carlson said. “But I don’t think everybody wants or needs to buy a home.”

Others are holding onto the old idea. Bankrate found that homeownership remains a persistent part of the American dream. Homeownership is the “most-mentioned milestone” for Americans 26 and older, but younger Americans see it as less important. Gen Z, aged 18-25, doesn’t rank it as the top accomplishment like older Americans tend to.

Gen Z member Caitlyn Aldersea, a student at the University of Denver, is representative of the changing attitude.

She remembers as a young child how the Great Recession that began in 2007 a ected her family.

“ e American dream today is much di erent than how my parents thought of it,” Aldersea said. “Today, it’s more based on what can be accomplished. It’s not shooting for the stars anymore.”

Aldersea’s personal de nition of the American dream includes a ful lling career, opportunities to be part of a community that one is able to give back to and the freedom to pursue personal interests. She believes housing should be attainable for everyone, but doesn’t think it de nes success or happiness.

Aldersea doesn’t envision ever becoming a homeowner. One reason is that she wants to be able to relocate as she pursues her career goals. Another is that she wants to travel and pay o student loans.

“I don’t think my wage or salary will ever help me a ord a house or mortgage,” Aldersea said. “A house would not be the only thing I’d have to focus on nancially.” area landed on the map too, though it was rated slightly higher in yellow.) e map re ected the view that people of certain backgrounds negatively a ected the values of homes.

Time will tell whether homeownership will eventually become more important to younger Americans. According to Bankrate, the pull to own a home remains strong. Fiftynine percent of Gen Z members want to own a home as a life goal, second only to having a successful career (60%).

For other generations, homeownership remains the top life goal and the likelihood of that increases with age. Eighty-seven percent of older adults, aged 68 and up, cite homeownership as integral to the American dream.

In Englewood, for example, an “encroachment of Negroes” in an area near what appear to be railroad tracks was listed under “detrimental in uences” in comments that accompany the map.

And for the Five Points area near downtown Denver, comments mention “Negroes, Mexicans and a transient class of workers.”

Just to the east, comments called the neighborhoods “a better Negro section of Denver” and “one of the best colored districts in the United States.”

“Were it not for the heavy colored population much of it could be rated” higher, the comments say, appearing to use the term “colored” to refer to residents who were not White.

E ects linger ‘to this day’ ough the picture isn’t entirely clear yet, what experts already know suggests that policies that deepened racial disparities in uenced the makeup of today’s suburbs.

One driver of suburban growth that was especially visible was the American GI Bill — or the Servicemen’s Readjustment Act of 1944 — that provided World War II veterans funding for college tuition and lowinterest mortgages. But not everyone reaped the same rewards because of the covenants that the mappers at the local libraries are looking into, along with unequal access to GI Bill bene ts for White veterans compared with Black veterans. e disparities played into how largely White the demographics in the suburbs turned out to be, said Christy Rogers, a teaching assistant professor in the program for environmental design at the University of Colorado Boulder.

“ at has consequences for intergenerational wealth,” Rogers said.

In other words, though the descendants of White military veterans saw their homes rise in value over the decades, essentially becoming investments, many Black families encountered barriers and that had a ripple e ect as they could not pass down as much wealth to their children and grandchildren.

Rogers, who is White, knows this rsthand.

“My dad got the GI Bill, and he went to college and bought a house,” Rogers said. “So, our family could draw on our home value to send me to college.”

It took decades for federal lawmakers to ban the practice of racially restrictive covenants. ey were banned in the months after the “long, hot summer” of 1967 — through the Fair Housing Act of 1968, which bars discrimination in the sale, rental and nancing of housing based on race, color, national origin, religion or sex. e act also prohibited redlining. e prevailing attitudes of racism at the time still may have made Black families feel unwelcome in certain neighborhoods, iry said. ere is evidence that the researchers are onto something. In Minnesota, researchers looking into Minneapolis and its suburbs discovered a “bonus value” persists today among White homeowners who bene ted from restrictive covenants.

What’s left today is a puzzle in places like Je erson County, made even harder to discern after booming growth since the mid-1900s. It is di cult to tell how much past covenants shaped the suburbs, said iry, the Colorado School of Mines librarian.

“With that said, you cannot discard the fact that these covenants did exist,” iry said.

“We document that houses that were covenanted have on average

3.4% higher present-day house values compared to houses that were not covenanted,” according to a 2021 University of Minnesota study entitled, “Long Shadow of Racial Discrimination: Evidence from Housing Racial Covenants.” “We also nd that census blocks with a larger share of covenanted lots have smaller Black population and lower Black homeownership rates.” e study also noted, “the racial makeup of neighborhoods determined in preceding decades persisted, where the region was highly segregated with White families primarily residing in suburban areas and Black families within select neighborhoods (in) parts of Minneapolis.”

“ is segregation has continued for more than fty years, suggesting the highly long-lasting e ect that covenants had on the racial distribution of the region,” according to the study.

Rogers at CU added that moving to the suburbs could be more di cult for residents in redlined areas who may not have the money to move.

“Redlined areas to this day (sometimes) have lower appraisal values compared to a house across the street that’s not in a redlined area,” Rogers said.

The path forward

Many Denver-area suburbs have large White majorities today. About 20 cities, towns or rural counties have a larger proportion of White residents than the national rate and the Colorado rate — many by a large margin, according to U.S. Census Bureau data.

In Cherry Hills Village, a wealthy suburb that borders Denver, the number of Black Americans amounts to 0% of the population. Just a few miles away, the population is 17% Black and 44% White in Aurora, one of Denver’s most diverse suburbs. at’s in terms of age, ethnicity and race, and income, Freemark added.

Aurora is an exception, not the rule. Many of Denver’s other older suburbs are much less diverse.

Several Adams County cities have large Latino populations, but even though they’re suburban, the cities still tend to have lower-income neighborhoods closer to Denver and more expensive housing farther north.

Still, the suburbs don’t entirely look like they used to, according to Yonah Freemark, senior research associate at the nonpro t Urban Institute, based in Washington, D.C.

“Overall, the suburban parts of the nation have transformed dramatically and have become more diverse over time,” Freemark said.