SPECIAL REPORT >> AFFORDABLE HOUSING HALL OF FAME
THE STREET FIGHTER: Playing Hardball
‘Mother of CRA’ used in-your-face
tactics to prompt action from officials
BY LIZ ENOCHS
AFFORDABLE HOUSING FINANCE • OCTOBER 2007
Gale Cincotta’s street-smart
protest tactics were legendary
among Chicago housing
activists. In her quest to
gain equal access to mortgage
loans for residents of low-income and
minority communities, she used armies of
protesters to force meetings with top federal
government officials, from the chairman
of the Federal Reserve Bank to the secretary
of the Department of Housing and
Urban Development (HUD).
The woman known as the “mother of
the Community Reinvestment Act” didn’t
back down from confrontation.
“They say we are not nice when we
protest and demonstrate at people’s homes
and offices,” said Cincotta in 1982 during a
series of actions organized by the National
Peoples’ Action (NPA) organization of
community groups that she co-founded.
“But bad housing isn’t nice, redlining isn’t
nice, high oil prices aren’t nice, crime on
our streets isn’t nice.”
Former HUD Secretary Jack Kemp
once called her during a Washington, D.C.,
activists’ meeting with a personal request,
recounted Shel Trapp, who co-founded
NPA with Cincotta. Kemp had heard about
Cincotta’s strategy of bringing hundreds of
activists to camp out in front of officials’
homes until they agreed to a meeting, said
Trapp.
Kemp asked Cincotta to stay away
from his house the following day because
he would be hosting a reception for his two
soon-to-be-married daughters. But
Cincotta didn’t back off, according to
Trapp. “She said, ‘Maybe you should set out
1,000 more plates,’” he recalled. That was
enough. Kemp agreed to meet with
Cincotta and 20 of the group’s other leaders
two days later, Trapp said. “After that, he
really got some good reforms through,” said
Trapp.
Taking the fight to Washington
Trapp and Cincotta founded NPA and
its sister organization, the National
Training and Information Center (NTIC),
in 1972 after a Midwest regional HUD
director told them their demands were
beyond his power to grant. That meant
they had to take their fight for fair lending
to Washington. Cincotta later served as
executive director of NTIC and chairwoman
of the NPA.
The grassroots groups that made up
NPA’s coalition said in their first conference
that one of the key things they wanted was
for banks to disclose where they were making
their mortgage loans. So Cincotta went
on the offensive, testifying numerous times
before then-Sen. William Proxmire (DWis.)
in support of legislation that became
known as the Home Mortgage Disclosure
Act (HMDA), passed in 1975.
Then, armed with HMDA data showing
banks’ failures to lend in their local communities,
Cincotta and her allies pushed for
the passage of the Community
Reinvestment Act, which requires banks to
serve the credit needs of all the communities
where they are located. It passed in 1977.
Cincotta’s leadership in both fights
earned her the “mother of CRA” designation
from other neighborhood activists.
The daughter of Greek restaurant
owners, wife of a gas station attendant, and
mother of six sons began her career as a
political activist out of a sense of outrage.
First, she began agitating for her sons’
schools to get their share of city money.
Then she noticed her
neighborhood deteriorating
as banks refused
to make loans there.
“We had no choice but
to come together, organize,
protest, and fight
with the banks until
they made loans in our
neighborhood,” she told
a conference of
European bankers in
1996. “The banks
thought we were their
enemy and that we
wanted them to make
bad loans. We set out to
teach them that there
were solid loans to be
made in our neighborhoods.”
Cincotta’s in-yourface
approach served her well a few years
after the CRA’s passage when she stationed
a group of protesters right in front of the
Federal Reserve Building and refused to
budge until then-Chairman Paul Volcker
met with her and 15 other leaders. The
activists wanted Volcker’s support in their
push to put some teeth into CRA enforcement.
“Gale just talked to him like he was not
important at all,” said Brenda LeBlanc, an
Iowa activist who was present at the meeting.
“She just told him what the problem
was and asked him what he was going to do
about it.” Volcker agreed that regulatory
agencies had some responsibility to enforce
the law, and he looked into the issue and
followed through, LeBlanc added.
Keeping the pressure on
Once CRA was passed, activists like
Cincotta figured out that one way they
could ensure banks complied with the law
was to lodge protests against bank mergers
until the financial institutions involved
committed to making millions—even billions—
of dollars in neighborhood investments.
Since the law’s enactment, banks
have made more than $4 trillion in CRA
commitments, according to the National
Community Reinvestment Coalition.
For a housewife whose entry into
activism came via the local parent-teacher
association, Cincotta showed extraordinary
business sense. Although many saw her as
radical, her approach to achieving her goals
was remarkably pragmatic. She emphasized
to banks that she wanted them to
make a profit, and she worked continually
to figure out how to overcome obstacles
that prevented them from doing that in
lower-income communities.
For instance, in 1992 Cincotta helped
Chicago bankers find a solution to a problem
in financing multifamily buildings of
two to four units, which make up 38 percent
of all residential units in the city,
according to Tom Fitzgibbons, executive
vice president of Chicago-based MB
Financial Bank. “The problem was that you
could get a 97 percent loan-to-value loan
on a one-unit building, but on a two-unit
you could only get an 80 percent loan, and
on a three-unit you could only get a 70 percent
loan,” he said.
So Cincotta put together a plan for a
group of Chicago bankers to run a trial that
would allow them to make loans to two- to
four-unit buildings using the same conditions
they would have applied to loans for
single-unit buildings, Fitzgibbons said. The
bankers took the plan to Freddie Mac,
which made a $25 million commitment to
the trial. “When we got through with it,
[the loans] all performed,” said
Fitzgibbons. “What it did was it changed
that underwriting for the entire country.”
Developing consensus
Cincotta’s skill at developing consensus
was one of the keys to making that plan
work, he said. “It was really an amazing
unusual partnership that was all about driving
good capital into markets that had
been disinvested,” added Fitzgibbons, who
from 2001 to 2004 served on a consumer
advisory council to the Fed’s Board of
Governors. “She had a tremendous impact
on helping people like myself who wanted
to do the right thing.”
In the decade before her death,
Cincotta worked with HUD on the development
of two programs aimed at protecting
borrowers and keeping the pressure on
banks to make sound loans in low-income
neighborhoods.
The Credit Watch program gives HUD
the power to deny participation in the
agency’s mortgage insurance programs to
lenders with excessive foreclosure rates.
Meanwhile, the Homebuyers Protection
Plan requires appraisers to give lenders a
detailed list of each property’s defects,
which lenders must then turn over to borrowers.
When she died in 2001 at the age of
72, Cincotta was eulogized and praised by
former partners and adversaries alike. “It is
clear that no one in our time did more than
Gale to raise our collective consciousness
about the corrosive effects of redlining—a
practice she viewed as her call to action,”
said John D. Hawke Jr., then-comptroller
of the Currency. “With Gale Cincotta’s passing,
we have lost a true national treasure.”
Without Cincotta, American cities
would have less decent affordable housing,
fewer jobs, and less responsible government,
said Fitzgibbons. “Urban America
would be a different landscape today.”
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