The Most Segregated City in the United States: A Microcosm of Black Life

What Milwaukee’s data, divisions, and daily realities tell us about race, resilience, and inequality across the United States.

At first glance, this essay might sound eerily familiar. It reflects many of the themes I’ve explored in The Foundation from the Background: What Happens When Black America Isn’t the Headline Anymore — systemic inequality, historical neglect, and the enduring resilience of Black communities. But this piece is different. The data here isn’t abstract or generalized — it’s rooted entirely in Milwaukee, Wisconsin — and it’s more concentrated.

And that’s exactly what makes it matter. Milwaukee is more than the setting for these statistics — it’s the sharpened lens through which we can see the nation more clearly. What happens here doesn’t just reflect a local failure; it magnifies a national pattern.

One article asks: What’s actually happening on the ground when no one’s watching?

The other answers: The same thing that’s always been happening — just without your attention.

Most of the time, I try to write about race from a broad perspective, pulling together research, history, and stories from across the United States. But sometimes, I can’t help but look out my own window, and view things from my own backyard. Milwaukee is more than a backdrop — it’s a city defined by sharp lines: who gets to live where, who gets to thrive, who struggles, and who gets left behind. In 2013, I wrote an essay titled “Milwaukee: A Third World City,” which laid out a systematic analysis of my home. I asked: How can one city in the heart of the Midwest feel so divided, so stuck?

It felt as if I were living in a third world country — in a major city within the United States borders.

Now, more than a decade later, I have the same questions, maybe more. Has anything changed? Is Milwaukee a microcosm of the Black experience in America, or its own cautionary tale? Has life for Black Milwaukeeans improved, stayed the same, or gotten worse — and if it has, why? Most importantly: What can we do about it?

This is the mirror I want to hold up — not just to Milwaukee, but to every city grappling with these questions, still waiting for honest answers.

A Snapshot — Then and Now

Back in 2013, I called Milwaukee a “Third World City.” That wasn’t for shock value — it was the honest description for what I saw and lived: stark segregation, economic abandonment, Black neighborhoods left behind, schools closing, jobs disappearing, and violence filling the void.

In 2025, all of the same disparities remain. To really see what’s changed (or hasn’t), you have to look at the layers — data, headlines, and daily life.

Segregation

2013:
Milwaukee was named the “most segregated city in America” by multiple studies (UW-Milwaukee, Census data). Entire zip codes were sharply divided by race and opportunity.

2025:
Milwaukee remains among the most segregated cities, often ranked #1 or #2 nationally. The entrenched racial and economic boundaries between the majority-Black North Side, Latino South Side, and predominantly White suburbs continue with little change, despite limited migration to the suburbs. The city’s “color lines” persist on every map — from housing and schooling to access to jobs and resources.

Sources: University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee (UW-Milwaukee), Brookings, Urban Institute, 2020 Census

Incarceration & Policing

2013:
Wisconsin had the highest Black male incarceration rate in the U.S. (1 in 8 working-age Black men from Milwaukee County in prison or jail). Police presence and surveillance were daily realities in Black neighborhoods.

2025:
Numbers have improved modestly with reforms (reduced marijuana arrests, some alternatives to incarceration), but Wisconsin still leads the nation in Black male incarceration. The legacy of mass imprisonment continues: family disruption, lost voting rights, and deep mistrust in law enforcement. During the COVID-19 pandemic, gun violence and homicides in Milwaukee surged to record highs, compounding long-standing fears and trauma. Tensions between police and community persist, with many Black residents feeling both over-policed and under-protected.

Sources: Vera Institute, Wisconsin Department of Corrections, Milwaukee Homicide Review Commission

Poverty & Unemployment

2013:
The Black poverty rate was nearly 40%. Factory jobs were long gone, and unemployment for Black residents was double or triple that of White residents.

2025:
Black poverty remains stubbornly high in Milwaukee — hovering around 35 to 37 percent as of 2023, compared to less than 20 percent for the city as a whole. Unemployment gaps are persistent, with Black residents facing jobless rates that are two to three times higher than those of their White neighbors. The COVID-19 pandemic wiped out dozens of small businesses and thousands of jobs in Black neighborhoods, deepening economic hardship and erasing hard-won gains. While cranes go up and new developments rise in other parts of the city, economic recovery in Black communities has been slow, uneven, and often invisible.

Even when jobs are available, most do not pay a living wage — forcing families to juggle multiple part-time or temporary positions just to cover the basics. With rising rents, higher food prices, and few real opportunities for advancement, it becomes nearly impossible for Black families to build savings or break out of their current living conditions. Prosperity happens elsewhere, while too many are left fighting to survive right where they are.

Sources: U.S. Census ACS (American Community Survey), Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, Brookings Institution, Wisconsin Policy Forum, Milwaukee Community Journal, Urban Institute

Education

2013:
Public schools faced budget cuts, closures, and increased competition from the state’s private voucher program. The achievement gap for Black students was among the nation’s worst.

2025:
Graduation rates for Black students in Milwaukee have improved modestly in recent years, but remain significantly lower than for White and Asian students. In 2022–2023, the four-year graduation rate for Black students in Milwaukee Public Schools (MPS) hovered around 65%, compared to nearly 85% for White students and over 90% for Asian students. The achievement gap persists despite efforts to reform curriculum and support struggling schools. Funding for MPS continues to lag behind suburban districts, and the expansion of voucher and charter programs has pulled millions of dollars from public schools, straining resources further.

Black students are also disciplined at disproportionately high rates, facing suspensions and expulsions more often than their peers, which contributes to higher dropout rates and lower college enrollment. Even after high school, Black graduates are more likely to attend underfunded colleges, incur greater student loan debt, and face more challenges finding well-paying jobs after graduation.

Sources: Milwaukee Public Schools (MPS) data, Wisconsin Department of Public Instruction, UW-Milwaukee

Housing & Evictions

2013:
Housing was highly segregated; Black homeownership rates were low and rental housing was often unstable or poorly maintained.

2025:
Black homeownership in Milwaukee remains stubbornly low — less than 30% as of 2023 — compared to nearly 60% for White residents. While both rents and property values have increased citywide, most of the wealth-building that comes with homeownership has bypassed Black families. Redlining and decades of disinvestment still cast a long shadow, making it harder for Black residents to buy homes or build equity.

The COVID-19 pandemic only deepened housing insecurity. Eviction filings surged in majority-Black neighborhoods, with many families forced to move multiple times in search of affordable rent. Even as property values rise, these gains rarely translate to intergenerational wealth for Black residents, since so few own their homes. Many Black renters are also burdened by rising rents and stagnant wages, leaving little room to save or invest. The lack of affordable housing options means housing instability — frequent moves, overcrowding, or even periods of homelessness — remains an everyday reality for too many.

Sources: Eviction Lab, ACS (American Community Survey), Milwaukee Community Journal

Health Disparities

2013:
Black neighborhoods had higher rates of chronic illness (asthma, diabetes), infant mortality, and limited access to quality healthcare.

2025:
COVID-19 exposed and worsened Milwaukee’s deep health disparities. Black residents faced significantly higher hospitalization and mortality rates during the pandemic — often due to higher rates of preexisting conditions, overcrowded housing, and jobs that couldn’t be done remotely. Long before COVID-19, food deserts were common in majority-Black neighborhoods, with few full-service grocery stores and limited access to affordable, healthy food. Hospital closures — such as the near-shutdown of Ascension St. Joseph in 2023 — left many Black families with long trips to access emergency care. Pharmacies and clinics have shuttered in these communities as well, leaving routine care and life-saving medications out of reach for many.

Sources: Milwaukee Health Department, Wisconsin Department of Health Services, CDC, Wisconsin Policy Forum, Robert Wood Johnson Foundation, Milwaukee Community Journal, Milwaukee Journal Sentinel

Gun Violence & Community Safety

2013:
Violence concentrated in certain zip codes; homicide and shooting rates were persistently high in Black neighborhoods.

2025:
Gun violence in Milwaukee has reached record highs in recent years, with the city breaking its all-time homicide record in both 2021 and 2022. In 2022 alone, Milwaukee saw 214 homicides — more than double the annual totals from just a decade prior. The vast majority of these deaths — over 85% — involved firearms. Non-fatal shootings have also surged, with more than 800 people wounded by gunfire in 2022. The toll is deeply unequal: over 80% of homicide victims are Black, despite Black residents making up less than 40% of the city’s population. These numbers are not outliers — they represent a devastating, persistent reality in many Black neighborhoods.

While the city has invested in community-based violence interruption efforts such as 414Life and expanded the Office of Violence Prevention, the progress remains slow and often outpaced by the scale of the problem. Surveys, including Marquette Law School polls, reveal that mistrust in law enforcement remains high among Black residents. Many report feeling over-policed yet under-protected, as heavy-handed policing continues alongside chronic underinvestment in neighborhood safety and well-being. The legacy of mass incarceration, family disruption, and lost voting rights only deepens these divides.

Despite reforms — such as fewer marijuana arrests and some alternatives to incarceration — Wisconsin still leads the nation in Black male incarceration rates. The cycle of violence, incarceration, and community trauma continues, with too little changing for those who live closest to the daily dangers. Gun violence isn’t just a headline in Milwaukee; it’s an everyday reality, one that shapes how families move, how children grow up, and how entire neighborhoods relate to the systems meant to serve and protect them.

Sources: Milwaukee Homicide Review Commission (Annual Reports), Milwaukee Police Department (2020–2023 Crime Reports), City of Milwaukee Office of Violence Prevention, Marquette Law School Polls, Wisconsin Policy Forum, Milwaukee Journal Sentinel.

Hope & Community Resilience

2013:
Neighborhoods relied on churches, block clubs, and informal mutual aid to weather systemic neglect.

2025:
Grassroots organizations, Black-owned businesses, youth-led protests, and cultural events (like expanded Juneteenth celebrations) have grown. Public conversations about equity are more visible, but “systemic change” is slow and hard-won.

Summary

Milwaukee provides a brutal mirror for Black America — a city where “separate and unequal” is still more than a phrase. It’s sobering when so many of the divides from 2013 remain — some have widened, and efforts to address them have been uneven at best. The patterns found in Milwaukee — deep-seated segregation, disproportionate incarceration, persistent wealth and health gaps, unequal schools — can be found in varying degrees in cities like Chicago, Detroit, St. Louis, Baltimore, Cleveland, and others.

What makes Milwaukee stand out is the intensity and concentration of these issues. Milwaukee doesn’t just rank high for segregation — it often tops the list. And it blows away any competition for Black male incarceration rates. I grew up in ZIP code 53206, where more than 60% of Black men have been incarcerated at some point in their lives. That’s not just a statistic — it’s where I learned what systemic oppression looks like up close. Wisconsin leads the nation in Black adult incarceration, but 53206 stands alone as a national outlier.

The economic and health disparities are unusually ingrained, and the legacy of discriminatory policy — redlining, disinvestment, inequitable school funding, and highway construction that split neighborhoods in two — is still visible on every map. Milwaukee didn’t invent the problem, but it reveals it. The story told here is one of national trends, magnified and made crystal clear.

When I first wrote about Milwaukee in 2013, I hoped the city was on the verge of change. The problems were well documented; the data was undeniable. I believed that shining a light would bring action, that exposing these realities would force the city — and the country — to do better.

But more than a decade later, the map hasn’t shifted. In some ways, things have gotten worse. This is the epitome of what it means that, just because the Black community may not be in the headlines, it doesn’t mean we’re not the news. We remain ever present, essential, and living with the consequences of abandonment, even when the country pretends not to notice.