Few books have shifted my understanding of Black history and urban life as profoundly as Joe William Trotter Jr.’s Building the Black City: The Transformation of American Life.
This is no ordinary history—it is a sweeping, eye-opening account of how Black Americans have shaped and reshaped urban landscapes, all while navigating systemic displacement, economic exploitation, and political marginalization.
As someone deeply passionate about Black history, cities, and the built environment, Trotter’s work felt like an essential missing piece in my ongoing inquiry into the forces that have shaped Black urban life.
At its core, Building the Black City is about far more than geography—it is about the enduring spirit of a people who, against all odds, built thriving urban communities while enriching the very economic and cultural fabric of America.
Trotter’s study spans from the pre-industrial era to the present, tracing how Black communities, often under duress, managed to carve out spaces of safety, economic power, and cultural flourishing.
The book challenges conventional narratives, particularly the idea that Black people’s primary impact on cities was as victims of white supremacy rather than as active architects of their own urban destinies.
One of the most striking discoveries I made while reading this book was learning about the history of Seneca Village, a thriving Black American community that existed from 1825 to 1857 in what is now Central Park.
Prior to this book, while I only had a vague awareness that Black people had been displaced to create the park, I never fully grasped the extent of what was lost.
Seneca Village was not just a settlement—it was the largest community of Black property owners in New York City at the time, offering residents stability, autonomy, and economic power.
In a nation where land ownership has historically been one of the most significant indicators of wealth accumulation, the forced removal of Seneca Village’s residents is emblematic of how Black economic progress has repeatedly been undermined.
For me, this revelation sparked a deep reflection on how many other self-sufficient Black urban enclaves were deliberately erased from history. If we know about Tulsa’s Black Wall Street, how many other Black cities and towns were destroyed or absorbed into urban expansion under the guise of “progress”?
Trotter’s book reminds us that Black communities have always built economic and cultural ecosystems—until systemic forces, often backed by legal mechanisms, disrupted them.
A Coffeehouse Conversation: Before Integration, Did We Have More?
Recently, over coffee in Fort Collins, a new friend who happens to be Black—shared a perspective that made me pause. He suggested that Black Americans made more economic and social progress before the Civil Rights-era integration of the 1960s.
Not in the sense that legal segregation was preferable, but rather that when we were forced to rely on each other, there was a stronger spirit of collaboration, intentional entrepreneurship, and wealth-building within our communities.
His argument?
Once integration came, many Black businesses and institutions that had flourished out of necessity began to decline, as Black dollars flowed out of our communities and into white-owned businesses, instead of cycling within.
Trotter’s book provides historical weight to this argument. Cities like Durham, North Carolina—once home to a vibrant Black banking sector—or Chicago’s Bronzeville, which had a self-sustaining Black middle class, show that there was indeed a time when Black communities had to be economically interdependent.
This forced cohesion led to the growth of Black hospitals, insurance companies, and entire business districts. But, as the barriers to white institutions loosened, many of these Black institutions were left to wither, not because they weren’t valuable, but because the incentive to support them declined.
What Can We Learn from This Today?
This discussion isn’t about romanticizing segregation but rather reclaiming the best elements of what made Black urban communities thrive in the past. Building the Black City serves as both a history and a roadmap for the future. If we understand how Black cities were built, sustained, and destroyed, then we can reimagine ways to rebuild them in the present.
💥 Reinvesting in Black-Owned Institutions – One of the key lessons from this book is the power of economic self-sufficiency. Cities once had Black-run banks, grocery stores, and theaters. Today, while some of that infrastructure remains, we need a deliberate strategy to redirect Black wealth back into Black communities.
💥 Urban Planning as a Political Tool – Black communities have been systematically reshaped through redlining, highway construction, and urban renewal programs that displaced families and businesses. If we are to rebuild, we need more Black voices in urban planning, real estate development, and local governance. The fight for space has always been political, and it still is.
💥 Community Cohesion and Mutual Support – The communal mindset that once existed out of necessity can be revived as a strategic choice. By fostering mentorship networks, co-operative housing models, and business incubators, Black urban communities can reclaim a sense of shared purpose.
A Black City Call to Action
Trotter’s book is more than a history lesson—it is a call to action for anyone invested in the future of Black urban life. The Black city is not just a relic of the past; it is an ongoing process of creation, destruction, and rebuilding. By understanding our history, we can take deliberate steps to reclaim what was lost and build new urban spaces that center Black agency, wealth, and culture.
In the end, Building the Black City forces us to confront the hard truth: Black economic and spatial autonomy was not lost due to a lack of ambition or capability. It was actively dismantled. But if we once built it, we can build it again—this time, with an awareness of the lessons of the past and the foresight to ensure its longevity.
For just $6 a month or $60 a year, you unlock exclusive access to a close-knit community eager to explore groundbreaking authors and books.
Join us today as a paid member supporter. Or feel free to tip me some coffeehouse love here if you feel so inclined.
Your contributions are appreciated!
Diamond Michael Scott, Global Book Ambassador
Excellent article, as always.
So interesting! Having moved into a predominantly Black neighborhood in the early 1980s, I watched many Black businesses disappear by the 2000s as the area became gentrified. Every gain seems to always include a loss too.