Books like Black Picket Fences — picked by fans

Similar to Black Pickett Fences, this was one of the first books I read as I sought to understand the unique position of the Black middle class.

Blue-Chip Black focuses on the social and economic complexity within the Black middle class and highlights how these experiences take shape in suburban neighborhoods. Most research on African Americans focuses on urban experiences.

Lacy shows that it is just as critical to understand distinctions among Black middle-class people as it is to understand differences between the Black middle class and African Americans with lower socio-economic status. Variation within the Black middle class means that we cannot take for granted that the Black middle class has a monolithic set of needs, interests, and priorities.  

This book helped me to understand the cultural complexity of my family—my father is a Jamaican immigrant, and my mother is a native-born African American—and the cultural richness of my neighborhood, Harlem, in New York City.

Like Lacy, Clerge centers her research in suburbia, not in a city. And Clerge explains how cultural distinctions across Caribbean and African American communities offer a rich tapestry of expression, and ways of being and belonging.

She reveals how cultural differentiation shapes and is shaped by class variation and strategies for navigating White domination and anti-Black racism. Clerge also discusses the implications for solidaristic behaviors across people of African descent in the United States. 

This book brings together questions regarding political power alongside those of race and class inequality.

While the previous three books I’ve recommended are written by sociologists, Johnson is a political scientist. Using the case of Prince George’s County, the jurisdiction I examine in my research, she investigates the extent to which Black Americans’ political control of this suburban county leads to agreement on policy goals and African Americans’ ability to achieve them.

As I was crafting the questions that guided my research in Prince George’s, this book helped me to identify that fiscal capacity, the ability to generate sufficient tax revenue for high-quality public goods and services, is key to understanding whether Black Americans have the ability to maintain a high quality of life. 

This book is written by a political scientist.

It helped me to hold two truths in tension—on the one hand, that there is increasing class and geographic variation among African Americans that leads to multiple, sometimes competing agendas, and on the other hand, Black Americans still express significant political solidarity, irrespective of their other social statuses. Dawson identifies the social conditions leading to shared political goals among African Americans—what he calls “linked fate.”

While his and others’ subsequent research shows that political solidarity among African Americans is waning to some extent, Behind the Mule is still important for understanding why racial status, notwithstanding African Americans’ other statuses, continues to be a core driver of Black Americans’ political behavior. 

Mining contemporaneous news accounts, personal letters and diaries, and dozens of in-depth interviews, scholar Marcia Chatelain explores the impact that the Great Migration had on a generation of young Black Chicago women, who coped with coming of age in the urban North while shouldering the expectations and aspirations of their uprooted parents. Anyone new to Chatelain’s work should also check out her next and equally original book, Franchise: The Golden Arches in Black America, a study of the deeply mixed legacy of McDonald’s restaurants in Black neighborhoods that won the 2021 Pulitzer Prize for History.

Margo Jefferson is one of the smartest humans on the planet and her memoir reflects that. She tells her story as intertwined with the story of her first cultural context—the Black elite of the 1950s, and the crisis of identity she experienced with the rise of the Black Power movement of the 1960s. She brings her critic’s sharp intelligence and wit to bear in every paragraph, but doesn’t hold back any of her heart. It’s a terrifically moving book and a masterpiece of personal/cultural criticism, full of elegance and nuance. 

Balto explores how the Chicago police, from 1910 to the 1970s “built an intricate, powerful carceral machinery whose most constitutive feature was an extreme racial selectivity.” Black people are over-policed and under-protected. Balto focuses on policing and anti-blackness. Black Chicagoans’ complaints of torture and “aggressive prevention patrol” by the police went on for decades and was essentially ignored by those in power. Balto tells the story of a racially repressive police force. In two decades, from 1945 to 1965 the Chicago police grew more punitive as the department doubled in size. Black communities were targeted by the CPD, in large part, because black was equated with criminality.

This is an extraordinary book: stories, in the voices of those who experienced it, about living in public housing projects in Chicago before these homes were demolished starting in the 1990s. Of course, there are memories of crime, gangs, drugs, violence, police brutality, sickness, and death: sometimes understood as the product of urban life, capitalism, and racism, but also as the product of individual mistakes and failures. But mostly these witnesses tell of community, of self-respect and determination, of learning to survive and even resist.

Students in my urban history class in a prison education program in Illinois reminded me that “urban” in their world—which was often precisely the world of High-Rise Stories—meant not the city as a whole, but the inner city, the world of the street, of the marginalized, of people of color. This is a compelling window into that story, told by people who lived it:… show more.

Many believe the myth that post-war public housing was constructed to help house the poor.  Hirsch focuses on the business and educational leaders who created urban renewal and public housing legislation to reveal their actual goal – to grab valuable land and displace African American residents who they viewed as threats to their investments. Like white working-class Chicagoans, these elites sought to exclude Black Chicagoans, but the white working class used riots and overt violence against Black residents who dared to enter their communities, while elites simply changed the laws to enable their more genteel form of ethnic cleansing. Published in 1983, Hirsch’s book pioneered whiteness studies. It remains a brilliant, scathing work on the mechanics of white supremacy and the racial politics of urban space.  

In the aftermath of the Supreme Court’s ruling in Dobbs, I think it is imperative to remember what life was like before Roe v. Wade and what women did to survive and to live their lives on their own terms. Kaplan’s book tells the story of the Jane Collective in the words of the women who made Jane work, which makes for powerful reading. And, I think it is important to ask ourselves what about today’s post-Roe era is “like before” and what is very different. For example, pre-Roe, most state restrictions on abortion contained exceptions for rape and incest. Post-Roe, nearly all state abortion bans contain no exceptions for rape or incest. The Story of Jane also chronicles, in some ways, a freer time in which one’s every query and movement was not tracked by one’s phone.