Economic mobility for Black Philadelphians is regressing. Here’s what we can do about it.

If you’ve sat through a budget hearing or a ribbon-cutting in Philadelphia, you’ve heard the refrain: America’s poorest big city. A tagline so worn it risks becoming background noise. But beneath that phrase is a brutal truth about whom this city serves — and whom it leaves behind.

At a recent Economic Mobility Summit hosted by the Federal Reserve Bank of Philadelphia, economist Raj Chetty unveiled fresh data that make this plain. For Black children born in 1992 to low-income parents in Philadelphia, the average household income at age 27 is $23,000. For their white counterparts, that figure is $31,000.

That’s not a gap — it’s a canyon.

Within this canyon, the river runs deeper. White median household wealth is approximately seven times that of Black households. Black college graduates have less wealth than white high school graduates. If current trends continue, it would take Black families approximately 228 years to reach the wealth of white families today. For Latino families, the estimate was about 84 years.

This projection underscores the entrenched racial wealth gap in the United States, according to The Road to Zero Wealth: How the Racial Wealth Divide is Hollowing Out America’s Middle Class, published by Prosperity Now and the Institute for Policy Studies in 2017.

Chetty’s research tracks how race and place shape destiny, not by chance but by design. In Philadelphia, a city mostly made up of people of color, economic mobility for Black and brown residents isn’t just stalled — it’s regressing.

The maps are awash in red, the color of entrenched inequity solidified through decades of disinvestment. And while white residents in poverty also face declining mobility, they’re falling from higher ground.

These maps aren’t just alarming — they’re personal. I know and love people who live within those redlined borders. I’m among the shrinking few who have climbed beyond the socioeconomic status of their parents — what used to be the American expectation now feels as elusive as a lottery win.

But we know these outcomes aren’t just market forces at work. Andre M. Perry’s new book, Black Power Score Card, and research at Brookings lay it bare: Black communities are systematically devalued. Black homes, Black businesses, Black labor — all discounted by design.

Perry’s analysis finds a $156 billion gap between what the nation’s Black-owned homes should be worth in a racially equitable market and what they are appraised for today.

Oscar Perry Abello sharpens the lens in The Banks We Deserve, tracing how the nation’s financial systems have long excluded Black people. Redlining may be outlawed, but its echoes persist in who gets loans, who owns property, and who holds power over capital.

In Philadelphia, Black neighborhoods are saturated with check-cashing outlets and payday lenders. Black-owned banks? Nearly extinct, with the exception of United Bank. Billions in deposits drain from our communities each year — never returning to fund our businesses or our dreams.

The Pew Charitable Trusts’ “Philadelphia 2025: The State of the City” report confirms these disparities. Nearly one in four Philadelphians — 23.8% — live below the poverty line, more than double the national rate. The median household income for Black residents is $35,000, compared with $62,000 for white residents. Homeownership among Black Philadelphians lags at 43% vs. 59% for white residents — a gap unclosed for generations.

These aren’t just statistics — they’re outcomes of policy.

So what does accountability look like?

Perry’s book offers one approach — measuring not just representation but power. It asks: Who holds decision-making authority? Who stewards economic development? Who shapes the future of our neighborhoods?

Philadelphia’s score? Too low to be acceptable.

Yet, there are models here pointing toward another way. The Kensington Corridor Trust stands as one. In one of Philadelphia’s most disinvested neighborhoods, the Kensington trust has begun acquiring commercial properties, placing them into permanent community stewardship. Their mission: ensure Black and brown residents — not outside developers — control the destiny of their own corridor.

These aren’t just statistics — they’re outcomes of policy.

They’ve marshaled philanthropic dollars, partnerships with community development financial institutions, and grassroots leadership to reclaim Kensington Avenue, resisting the tides of gentrification that have drowned too many other communities.

Just blocks away, another model rises. My company, Smith & Roller Holdings, is leading the revitalization of the historic National Textile Bank at 1801 E. Huntingdon St. — an 8,000-square-foot landmark reimagined as a commissary kitchen and event space designed to foster Black-owned business growth, workforce development, and community engagement.

Backed by Reinvestment Fund, Nonprofit Finance Fund, and the Philadelphia Industrial Development Corp., the project anchors Strother Enterprises — a Black-owned business with more than 35 years of leadership in food service, facilities support, and hospitality. Strother’s track record spans Temple University, Lincoln Financial Field, and SEPTA, exemplifying Black excellence and economic leadership.

Together with Impact Services, Smith & Roller and Strother are launching a workforce development program, expected to serve more than 75 Kensington residents annually — providing culinary training, job placement, and entrepreneurship support. The project expects to create 70 full-time jobs and over 200 indirect employment opportunities, stitching together historic preservation with economic revitalization.

This isn’t charity — it’s economic development rooted in community stewardship, not extraction. It’s what happens when Black and brown communities are treated as investors and architects of their own futures, not as collateral damage in someone else’s growth plan.

Tayyib Smith is a cultural strategist, entrepreneur, advocate for arts-driven economic development in Philadelphia, and founding partner at the Growth Collective.