Evicted

Evicted Plot Summary

Introduction

In America's cities, a silent crisis has been unfolding for decades. What was once rare - the forced removal of families from their homes - has become commonplace in many urban centers. In the 1930s, evictions were unusual enough to draw crowds of protesters. Today, they happen with such frequency that specialized moving companies work full-time shifts, sheriff squads dedicate their days to carrying out eviction orders, and housing courts process cases in hallways and makeshift offices. This transformation reflects profound changes in America's economic and social landscape, revealing how housing has shifted from a source of stability to a mechanism of inequality. The story of housing insecurity in America is not merely about real estate or market forces, but about fundamental questions of justice, community, and human dignity. Through examining the historical evolution of urban housing markets, we gain insight into how economic policies, racial discrimination, and the changing nature of work have created a system where millions of families live perpetually on the edge of displacement. This exploration offers valuable perspective for policymakers, community advocates, housing professionals, and anyone concerned with understanding how shelter - the most basic of human needs - has become so precarious for so many Americans despite our nation's tremendous wealth.

Chapter 1: Post-War Stability: Manufacturing Jobs and Affordable Housing (1945-1970)

The period following World War II marked a golden era for America's urban housing markets and economy. As soldiers returned home and the post-war industrial boom took hold, cities like Milwaukee established themselves as manufacturing powerhouses. Milwaukee became known as "the machine shop of the world," with factories producing everything from heavy machinery to beer. This economic prosperity created a stable foundation for housing, with most working-class families able to afford decent accommodations on a single income. During this era, urban neighborhoods were characterized by ethnic enclaves, with Polish, German, Italian, and other European immigrant communities establishing distinct residential areas. Housing was relatively affordable, with the average working-class family spending approximately 25 percent of their income on housing costs. This economic stability allowed families to put down roots, often staying in the same neighborhood for generations. The concept of "home" became deeply intertwined with American identity during this period, representing both economic security and social belonging. The federal government played a crucial role in shaping housing opportunities through programs like the GI Bill, which provided low-interest mortgages to returning veterans. However, these benefits were not distributed equally. While white residents gained access to homeownership opportunities in developing suburbs, discriminatory practices such as redlining and restrictive covenants systematically excluded Black residents from these same opportunities. This created a two-tiered housing system that would have profound implications for future generations. The stability of this era was also reflected in landlord-tenant relationships. Many rental properties were owned by small-scale landlords who lived in the same neighborhoods as their tenants, creating accountability and community connections. Evictions were relatively rare occurrences, often viewed as shocking events rather than routine business practices. When housing disputes arose, informal community mechanisms often helped resolve issues before they escalated to formal eviction proceedings. By the 1960s, many American cities had established themselves as places where working-class families could achieve the American Dream. Factory jobs provided living wages that supported stable housing, while strong labor unions ensured worker protections. This economic foundation created neighborhoods where children could attend the same schools throughout their education, families could develop deep community ties, and housing was viewed as a foundation for prosperity rather than a source of financial strain. As the decade progressed, however, early warning signs of change began to appear. Civil rights activism highlighted the deep racial inequalities in housing access, while the first hints of industrial decline suggested that the economic foundation supporting housing stability might not be permanent. These tensions would eventually transform urban housing landscapes in the decades to come.

Chapter 2: Economic Decline: Deindustrialization and Housing Market Transformation (1970-1990)

The 1970s marked the beginning of a profound transformation in America's economic and housing landscape. The manufacturing base that had provided stable, well-paying jobs began to erode as factories closed or relocated to areas with lower labor costs. Between 1979 and 1983, Milwaukee lost approximately 56,000 manufacturing jobs—more than during the Great Depression. Black workers, half of whom held manufacturing positions, were devastated by these closures. The poverty rate among African Americans rose from 28 percent in 1980 to 42 percent by 1990. This deindustrialization hit Black workers particularly hard, as many had only recently gained access to industrial employment through civil rights victories. Urban renewal projects during this period dramatically reshaped the physical landscape of many cities. Entire neighborhoods were demolished to make way for highways and other infrastructure projects, displacing thousands of residents. In Milwaukee, the construction of Interstate 43 cut through the vibrant Bronzeville neighborhood, destroying hundreds of Black-owned businesses and homes. These projects not only eliminated housing stock but also fractured established communities and social networks that had previously helped residents weather economic challenges. The racial geography of cities transformed dramatically during these decades. As white residents increasingly moved to suburban areas, many cities experienced extreme patterns of white flight. Between 1960 and 1990, Milwaukee's white population decreased by over 200,000. Meanwhile, housing discrimination continued to concentrate Black residents in specific neighborhoods, creating what would become some of America's most segregated metropolitan areas. This segregation was not merely a social phenomenon but had profound economic consequences, as it concentrated poverty and limited access to opportunity. The rental housing market underwent significant changes during this period. As homeownership became increasingly difficult for working-class families to achieve, more residents turned to renting. Simultaneously, housing policy shifted away from direct government provision toward market-based solutions. Public housing construction slowed dramatically, while the first housing voucher programs were introduced as an alternative approach. These changes reflected a broader ideological shift toward market-based solutions for social needs. Property ownership patterns also transformed during this era. While many small-scale landlords continued to operate, a new class of larger-scale property investors emerged, often purchasing properties in declining neighborhoods at low prices. The relationship between landlords and tenants became increasingly impersonal and transactional. As economic pressures mounted on both landlords and tenants, housing conditions in many neighborhoods deteriorated, creating a cycle of disinvestment. By the late 1980s, many American cities had transformed from centers of stable working-class neighborhoods to places increasingly characterized by economic insecurity and housing instability. The foundations that had supported housing stability in the post-war era—manufacturing jobs, strong unions, and government investment—had significantly eroded. These changes set the stage for the growing housing challenges that would emerge in subsequent decades, particularly for the most vulnerable urban residents.

Chapter 3: The Rise of Extractive Housing Markets in Poor Neighborhoods (1990-2000)

The 1990s witnessed a dramatic widening of housing inequality in America's cities, creating a stark divide between those who could access stable, quality housing and those who could not. Economic restructuring continued to reshape urban employment landscapes, with service sector jobs replacing many of the manufacturing positions that had disappeared. These new jobs typically offered lower wages, fewer benefits, and less stability than the factory jobs they replaced. For many urban families, this meant that housing costs consumed an ever-larger portion of their income, creating persistent financial strain. Welfare reform in the mid-1990s had profound implications for housing stability among America's poorest residents. Wisconsin's W-2 program, implemented in 1997, was one of the nation's most aggressive welfare-to-work initiatives, replacing traditional cash assistance with work requirements and time limits. While proponents celebrated reduced welfare rolls, many families found themselves with neither adequate employment nor government support. In Milwaukee, welfare reform cut 22,000 families from welfare rolls. Housing insecurity increased as families struggled to maintain stable housing without reliable income sources. The rental housing market became increasingly bifurcated during this period. In more affluent areas, rental housing improved in quality but became less affordable. Meanwhile, in lower-income neighborhoods, housing quality often deteriorated while remaining unaffordable relative to residents' incomes. This created a situation where poor families frequently paid substantial portions of their income for substandard housing. By the end of the decade, many low-income urban renters were spending upwards of 50% of their income on housing costs, leaving little for other necessities. For landlords operating in poor neighborhoods, these conditions created profitable opportunities. Properties in disadvantaged areas could be purchased at low prices, while rents remained relatively high compared to property values. As one Milwaukee landlord put it, "The 'hood is good. There's a lot of money there." A landlord might pay far less for a property in a poor neighborhood than in a middle-class area, while charging only slightly lower rent. This economic reality incentivized investment in low-income housing, but not necessarily investment in property maintenance or improvements. Landlording practices evolved significantly during the 1990s, becoming more professionalized and systematized. Property management companies increasingly utilized tenant screening services, credit checks, and formal eviction procedures. These practices, while potentially reducing risk for landlords, created additional barriers for vulnerable tenants. Past evictions or credit problems—often resulting from previous periods of poverty rather than personal irresponsibility—could permanently mark tenants as undesirable, limiting their future housing options. The geography of poverty in urban America continued to shift during this decade. As middle-class residents of all races increasingly moved to suburban areas, poverty became more concentrated in specific urban neighborhoods. These areas experienced compounding disadvantages: declining property values, reduced commercial investment, school deterioration, and increased crime. Housing in these neighborhoods became both a symptom and a cause of broader inequality, as location increasingly determined access to quality education, employment opportunities, and other resources.

Chapter 4: Racial Segregation and the Geography of Eviction (2000-2008)

The early 2000s revealed how deeply racial segregation had become embedded in America's housing markets, particularly in cities like Milwaukee. Despite decades of fair housing laws, Milwaukee maintained its status as one of America's most segregated cities. The Menominee River Valley functioned as the city's Mason-Dixon Line, dividing the predominantly Black North Side from the predominantly white South Side. Milwaukeeans joked that the Sixteenth Street Viaduct was "the longest bridge in the world because it connected Africa to Poland." This segregation wasn't accidental but resulted from historical patterns of discrimination that had shaped American cities for generations. In 1967, when 200 demonstrators, almost all Black, marched across Milwaukee's viaduct to protest housing discrimination, they were met by a mob of 13,000 white counterprotesters chanting "Kill! Kill!" and "We want slaves!" Though civil rights activists continued marching for 200 consecutive nights, little changed. A New York Times editorial declared Milwaukee "America's most segregated city," a distinction it would maintain for decades. The geography of eviction revealed stark patterns of inequality that mirrored these segregation lines. In Milwaukee, a typical month in eviction court showed that three in four people facing eviction were Black, and of those, three in four were women. The total number of Black women in eviction court exceeded that of all other groups combined. In the city's poorest Black neighborhoods, one female renter in 17 was evicted through the court system each year—twice the rate of men from those same neighborhoods and nine times the rate of women from the poorest white areas. Housing discrimination had evolved from explicit refusals to more subtle mechanisms. Landlords and property managers developed screening practices that effectively excluded poor families from better neighborhoods. Background checks, credit requirements, and income verification served as proxies for race in a system where Black families had been systematically denied opportunities to build good credit or accumulate wealth. Even when Black renters like Crystal and Vanetta searched for housing on Milwaukee's South Side, they encountered discrimination firsthand—being told apartments were unavailable when they were still being shown to white applicants. For Black women, these barriers were compounded by gender discrimination. Female tenants were less likely than men to negotiate with landlords when they fell behind on rent, often avoiding confrontation by "ducking and dodging" instead. This approach typically backfired, as landlords viewed avoidance as disrespectful. Men, meanwhile, could sometimes work off their debt by performing maintenance or repairs—an option rarely extended to women unless it involved trading sex for rent. The criminal justice system created additional housing barriers. As mass incarceration removed large numbers of Black men from their communities, women became the heads of households by default. When these women sought housing, they faced landlords who screened for criminal records not only of applicants but also of family members and associates. Some landlords refused to rent to women with male partners who had criminal histories, effectively punishing women for maintaining relationships with formerly incarcerated men. As Matthew Desmond observed, "If incarceration had come to define the lives of men from impoverished Black neighborhoods, eviction was shaping the lives of women. Poor Black men were locked up. Poor Black women were locked out."

Chapter 5: The Human Cost: Families Caught in Cycles of Housing Instability

The human consequences of housing instability extend far beyond the immediate trauma of losing one's home. For families caught in cycles of eviction and forced mobility, the effects ripple through every aspect of life, from physical and mental health to education, employment, and community connections. These impacts are particularly devastating for children, who bear some of the heaviest burdens of housing instability. When families are evicted or forced to move frequently, children often change schools mid-year, disrupting their education and social development. Studies show that each school change sets a child back academically by about four months. For Jori, Arleen's fourteen-year-old son, this meant having attended five different schools already in his young life. Each transition required adjusting to new teachers, curricula, and peer groups, making consistent academic progress nearly impossible. During one period at a domestic violence shelter, Jori accumulated seventeen consecutive absences from school, falling further behind with each missed day. Health suffers as well when families experience housing instability. Families pushed into substandard housing face increased exposure to lead paint, mold, pest infestations, and malfunctioning utilities. Jafaris, Arleen's younger son, suffered from severe asthma that required daily medication and a nebulizer. His condition was exacerbated by poor housing conditions, yet in the chaos of frequent moves, his medication was often lost or left behind. Research shows that children in unstable housing situations experience higher rates of developmental delays, behavioral problems, and preventable illnesses. For adults, eviction often triggers a cascade of other crises. Many lose their jobs in the chaos of moving or because they miss work to attend court hearings or search for new housing. Arleen had twice quit jobs after personal setbacks—once after her partner left, and again after her mother died suddenly. Each time, she fell back on welfare, which provided even less financial stability. The stress of housing insecurity contributes to depression, anxiety, and other mental health problems. Studies confirm that evicted mothers experience depression at twice the rate of their peers, with effects persisting years after the event. Material possessions—often accumulated over years of careful saving—disappear in the eviction process. When sheriff's deputies and moving crews arrive, tenants must make impossible choices about what to save and what to abandon. Items placed in storage frequently become inaccessible when families cannot afford the monthly fees. In Milwaukee, about 70 percent of possessions taken during evictions ended up discarded. The loss extends beyond furniture and clothing to irreplaceable items like family photographs, children's artwork, and personal documents. Social networks fray under the pressure of housing instability. Traditional support systems based on extended family relationships have weakened in many poor communities, victims of broader social transformations including the crack epidemic, mass incarceration, and welfare policies that discouraged family cohabitation. When Arleen needed emergency housing, she couldn't turn to relatives who were themselves struggling with poverty, addiction, or overcrowded living situations. Instead, she relied on "disposable ties"—relationships with virtual strangers who offered temporary assistance but rarely lasting support. Communities lose their social fabric when residents move frequently. On Thirty-Second Street, Doreen Hinkston had been a neighborhood fixture who knew local families, watched over children, and hosted gatherings. After being evicted, she became withdrawn in her new neighborhood, telling a visitor, "I don't even go to anybody's houses, like I used to." This pattern repeats across cities, creating what Jane Jacobs called "perpetual slums"—areas characterized by high turnover and minimal investment, where residents dream of leaving rather than improving their surroundings.

Chapter 6: Failed Systems: Housing Assistance and Legal Protection Shortfalls

America's approach to housing assistance represents one of the most significant policy failures in addressing poverty. Unlike food stamps or Medicaid, housing assistance has never been treated as an entitlement—something all eligible families receive. Instead, it has remained severely underfunded, reaching only a fraction of those who qualify. By the early 2000s, three in four families who met the income requirements for housing assistance received nothing at all. This shortfall wasn't always so severe. In the mid-20th century, the federal government invested substantially in public housing, building large complexes in cities across America. However, these projects were often poorly designed, inadequately maintained, and increasingly segregated by race. By the 1980s and 1990s, public housing had become synonymous with concentrated poverty and deteriorating conditions. Rather than fix these problems through better design and adequate funding, policymakers declared public housing a failure and began dismantling it. The voucher program that largely replaced public housing was theoretically an improvement—allowing recipients to choose their own housing in the private market while paying only 30 percent of their income toward rent. But vouchers were never funded at levels that could meet the need. In Milwaukee, the waiting list for housing assistance contained 3,500 families who had applied four years earlier, and the list was "frozen" to new applicants. In larger cities like Washington, DC, the wait was measured in decades. Even those lucky enough to receive vouchers faced significant barriers. Landlords in better neighborhoods often refused to accept them, citing the bureaucratic hassle of inspections and paperwork. The program's structure inadvertently incentivized landlords to place voucher holders in the poorest neighborhoods, where they could charge above-market rents while maintaining minimal standards. In Milwaukee, this practice cost taxpayers an additional $3.6 million annually—money that could have housed nearly 600 more families. For those without vouchers, the welfare system provided little relief. When welfare was reformed in the 1990s, benefit levels were frozen even as housing costs soared. In Milwaukee, Arleen received the same welfare stipend in 2008 that she would have received when welfare was reformed over a decade earlier: $20.65 a day, $7,536 a year. Meanwhile, her rent consumed 88 percent of this income. Politicians had long known that families could not survive on welfare alone, but they failed to adjust benefits to match rising housing costs. The legal system offered little protection for vulnerable tenants. Eviction courts processed cases with assembly-line efficiency, often giving tenants just minutes to present their case. In Milwaukee, approximately 70 percent of tenants didn't appear for their hearings—some couldn't miss work, others couldn't find childcare, many simply didn't understand the process. When tenants did show up, they rarely had legal representation. Landlords, meanwhile, often brought lawyers who handled dozens of cases per day. Building inspection departments, theoretically responsible for ensuring housing quality, were understaffed and overwhelmed. Inspectors like Roger in Milwaukee's trailer park made compromises, overlooking violations they knew landlords wouldn't fix or tenants couldn't afford to address. When inspectors did cite properties, landlords often passed the costs on to tenants through higher rents or evictions. This created a situation where tenants faced impossible choices: complain about dangerous conditions and risk eviction, or remain silent and continue living in hazardous environments.

Chapter 7: Beyond Markets: Reimagining Housing as a Right Not a Commodity

The persistent failure of market-based approaches to provide adequate housing for all Americans has prompted growing calls to reimagine housing as a fundamental right rather than merely a commodity. This perspective challenges deeply held assumptions about the proper role of government in ensuring basic needs and questions whether housing—essential for human survival and dignity—should be subject to the same market forces as luxury goods or investment vehicles. The current housing crisis reflects a profound disconnect between policy and reality. While American housing policy has increasingly relied on market mechanisms, the gap between incomes and housing costs has grown so wide that market solutions alone cannot bridge it. By 2008, the majority of poor renting families in America spent over half their income on housing, with at least one in four dedicating over 70 percent to rent and utilities. No amount of careful budgeting can make these numbers work. As housing advocate Mary Brophy has noted, "The market has never produced and never will produce an adequate supply of decent, affordable housing for low-income households." Other wealthy democracies have taken different approaches that recognize housing as a basic right. In Vienna, Austria, approximately 60 percent of residents live in public or publicly subsidized housing, much of it high-quality and well-integrated into mixed-income neighborhoods. Finland has virtually eliminated homelessness through its "Housing First" policy, which provides permanent housing to homeless individuals without preconditions. These examples demonstrate that alternative models exist and can succeed when backed by political will and adequate resources. Universal housing vouchers represent one potential path forward for American housing policy. If expanded to cover all eligible households—rather than the current one in four—vouchers could ensure that no family spends more than 30 percent of their income on housing. This approach would preserve market mechanisms while ensuring universal access to affordable housing. Economists estimate that such a program would cost approximately $40 billion annually—less than the mortgage interest deduction that primarily benefits affluent homeowners. Strengthening tenant protections offers another avenue for reform. Many European countries provide significantly stronger legal protections against eviction, longer lease terms, and more robust rent control measures than the United States. These protections help prevent displacement and promote community stability without eliminating private ownership. In Germany, for example, indefinite leases are standard, and landlords can only evict tenants under specific circumstances, creating housing security that many Americans can only dream of. Community ownership models provide yet another alternative to traditional market approaches. Community land trusts, limited-equity cooperatives, and social housing developments can create permanently affordable housing removed from speculative market forces. These models have proven successful in communities from Burlington, Vermont to the Dudley Street neighborhood in Boston, demonstrating that community control can produce housing that remains affordable and high-quality over generations. Perhaps most fundamentally, reimagining housing as a right requires challenging the notion that housing should primarily function as a wealth-building asset rather than a basic need. American housing policy has long prioritized homeownership as a path to wealth accumulation, creating a system where housing serves as both shelter and investment. This dual role has contributed to housing instability by encouraging speculation and treating price appreciation as an unmitigated good, even as it makes housing less affordable for many.

Summary

The American housing crisis represents a profound market failure with devastating human consequences. At its core lies a fundamental disconnect: housing costs have soared while incomes for the poorest Americans have stagnated or fallen. This imbalance has created a situation where the majority of poor renting families spend over half their income on housing, with many dedicating 70 percent or more to keeping a roof over their heads. The mathematics is simply impossible—no amount of careful budgeting can make these numbers work. This crisis did not emerge by accident but resulted from specific policy choices: the destruction of manufacturing jobs that once provided stable incomes; the defunding of public housing; the freezing of welfare benefits even as housing costs climbed; and the creation of a voucher system that reaches only a quarter of eligible families. The housing crisis reveals something profound about American society: we have normalized levels of suffering that should shock the conscience. We have accepted as inevitable that families will live in dangerous, degrading conditions; that children will grow up without stability; that communities will remain trapped in cycles of disinvestment. Yet other wealthy democracies have made different choices, treating decent housing as a right rather than a commodity. The American experience shows that housing markets, left to their own devices, will not meet the needs of the poorest citizens. Only through deliberate policy choices—expanded housing assistance, stronger tenant protections, increased affordable housing construction, and wages that reflect actual housing costs—can we begin to address this fundamental injustice at the heart of American poverty. The question is not whether we have the resources to ensure decent housing for all—we clearly do—but whether we have the political will to prioritize this basic human need over other considerations.

About Author

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Matthew Desmond

Matthew Desmond is social scientist and urban ethnographer. He is the Maurice P. During Professor of Sociology and the Director of the Eviction Lab at Princeton University. He is also a Contributing Writer for The New York Times Magazine.Desmond is the author of over fifty academic studies and several books, including "Evicted: Poverty and Profit in the American City," which won the Pulitzer Prize for General Nonfiction, National Book Critics Circle Award, Carnegie Medal, and PEN / John Kenneth Galbraith Award for Nonfiction."Evicted" was listed as one of the Best Books of 2016 by The New York Times, New Yorker, Washington Post, National Public Radio, and several other outlets. It has been named one of the Best 50 Nonfiction Books of the Last 100 Years and was included in the 100 Best Social Policy Books of All Time.Desmond's research and reporting focuses on American poverty and public policy. He is the recipient of a MacArthur Fellowship, the American Bar Association’s Silver Gavel Award, and is an elected member of the American Philosophical Society. He has been listed among the Politico 50, as one of “fifty people across the country who are most influencing the national political debate.”

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