In the community studied, residents pointed to specific tactics that they characterized as voter suppression. The HOA board had established rules that made participation nearly impossible for working-class and multigenerational families. For example, the board refused to allow "proxy voting," a common practice that permits a homeowner to designate a neighbor to cast a vote on their behalf. This required all votes to be cast in person, usually on a Tuesday during business hours.
For residents like Elena, a woman living in a multigenerational household, these rules were an insurmountable wall. Although Elena paid the mortgage, the home was listed in her son’s name. Because the HOA bylaws only permitted the listed homeowner to vote, Elena was barred from the process. Her son, who worked grueling hours starting at 3:00 a.m., could never make it to a Tuesday afternoon meeting.
"I’m not allowed to vote. You’re not allowed to vote with a proxy," Elena explained. "My son… works crazy hours. He gets up at 3 in the morning to work, he comes home, has dinner and goes straight to bed… he never makes it. They should have that on the weekends."
Furthermore, the HOA restricted meeting attendance and voting rights to homeowners only, explicitly excluding renters. In many communities, renters are treated as second-class citizens with no right to participate in the governance of the place where they live, despite being subject to the association’s rules. The lack of transparency compounded the issue, as the board was only required to post meeting notices at a physical office located at the far end of the community, rather than communicating digitally or through more accessible means.
A Challenge to the American Dream
The implications of HOA governance reach far beyond the aesthetics of a suburb; they touch upon the core of the American Dream. Historically, discriminatory practices like redlining, which began in the 1930s, systematically denied Black and Latino families the opportunity to build wealth through homeownership. While homeownership rates have risen since then, the progress remains uneven. Census data shows that the Black homeownership rate stands at 45%, significantly lower than the 73% rate among non-Hispanic whites.
As the racial wealth gap continues to widen, Black and Latino residents remain more likely to rent or live in multigenerational arrangements. At the same time, the housing market is moving toward a future where almost all new inventory is tied to an HOA. This creates a collision course: as racialized minorities increasingly enter these communities, they find themselves in a system of private governance that was not built with them in mind and often works to limit their autonomy.
Homeownership has long been sold as a path to independence, a "voice" in one’s community, and a stake in the future. However, when an HOA uses its power to "fence out" the culture and participation of its minority residents, it effectively devalues the experience of homeownership for those groups. For residents like Coretta and Elena, the "American Dream" of owning a home is tempered by the reality of living under a private government that views their presence—and their participation—with skepticism.
