My Childhood Home that Almost Never Was

The year was 1985 and my Mom and Dad were looking for a house to buy. They came across a home on Alaska Avenue in the Avondale Neighborhood in Cincinnati. It was the neighborhood where my Dad grew up, and it seemed to be a perfect location and price. The home was for sale for $54,000 and under their budget so they put in an application at their local bank. Both were employed full-time at the United States Postal Service, made more combined annually than the total mortgage, and had excellent credit. The process should have been clean and simple, but it was not. The loan was declined.

At this time there were rumors of widespread housing discrimination against Black families in Cincinnati. Stories of very strong borrowers being turned down or of potential home buyers being given the run around by lenders, realtors, and insurers. When my Dad told other community members about his story they recommended that he reach out to an organization called Housing Opportunities Made Equal of Greater Cincinnati commonly known as HOME. HOME, which is still in operation today, is a non-profit with a mission to eliminate unlawful discrimination in housing in the Greater Cincinnati Area. Luckily, HOME agreed to take my parents' case.

HOME sent a white family with the same income, employment history, and credit history as my parents to the bank to apply for the same sized loan that my Mom and Dad were denied. The loan was approved immediately. After getting the approval the "test white couple" reported back to HOME with the results, and their team reached out to the bank. My Dad said, "I don't know what they did, but all of a sudden we had a loan." They closed on the home on December 31st, 1985.

This house on Alaska Avenue became the foundation of our lives. My parents renovated the huge home into four separate apartments. My Mom, Dad, and older brother Anthony moved into the house in 1986. My middle brother Fred III was brought home to this house from the hospital in September 1986. I came home to this house on Alaska Avenue two years later in 1988. My aunts Renee and Pricilla lived with us for a time in that house in their early 20s. My uncle Isaiah lived for a time in one of the apartments on the first floor. We also used one of the apartments for a few years as a daycare for small children when I was so young that I barely remember.

My grandfather Fred Sr. moved into the apartment next to ours on the second floor and played the role of my first babysitter. Some of the time that I spent with him daily drastically shapes the person I am today. If we weren't watching the Reds on TV we were listening to John Coltrane records. He was blessed to age with dignity, on deeply reduced rent, living on his Postal Employee Pension in his own apartment next to his grandchildren, in a building that his son and daughter owned.

The rents from this house on Alaska Avenue helped finance our move into the Wyoming neighborhood, whose high school consistently ranks in the Top 3 academic high schools in the state of Ohio. The equity in the home on Alaska Avenue also helped send my two brothers and me to college for further high-quality education. My Dad and my Aunt Sheri still live in the home today, and it is the plan that the three of us will inherit this home one day after my Dad lives a long healthy life.

This home has been a pillar in my life and in the lives of my immediate and extended family. It has been one of the tools that we used to provide financial stability for so many, and it almost never was. We talk about the racial wealth gap like it just happened but it was very intentional. The banks, insurance companies, regulators, legislators, and appraisers all played a huge role in its creation and perpetuity. The local, state, and federal governments meticulously orchestrated this racial wealth gap, and the recent stories of stolen home equity through race-biased appraisals and lending practices signal that we will not be closing this gap anytime soon. Any conversations that discuss closing the racial wealth gap without reparations as a foundation show that you don't truly understand the causes and impact. The compounding nature of wealth ensures that without drastic investment, the racial wealth gap will not only sustain but widen.

I know that I am one of the lucky ones. Lucky that my parents chose to fight instead of accept their turned-down application. Lucky that HOME took my parents' case and fought on their behalf. Lucky that I had this home in my childhood to teach me the skills of home ownership as a child and to participate in the wealth creation that it provides families. I hope that I am lucky enough one day to inherit this property on Alaska Avenue and pass it on to the next generation after us. Along with the property, we will also pass along the story of how we acquired it. We will take the time to share that before I was born, the childhood home that I have grown to love so dearly, the home that fueled the success that I experience today, was almost taken away from my parents because of the color of their skin.