Skip to main content

In 1927, the Texas Legislature passed Senate Bill 275, a short but consequential law authorizing municipalities to segregate residential areas by race. Though rarely cited by name today, S.B. 275 exemplified how Jim Crow principles were embedded not only in schools and the private realm, but also in urban planning.

The law was captioned, “An Act providing for the segregation or separation of the white and negro races and providing for the conferring of power and authority upon cities to pass suitable ordinance controlling the same and providing for fixing the penalty.”

S.B. 275 allowed cities to zone for Whites-only and Blacks-only neighborhoods. It also gave cities the power to enforce racially restrictive covenants. These were private agreements where homeowners promised not to sell or rent to Black families. For example, a neighborhood could agree that only White residents were allowed. These covenants helped keep neighborhoods segregated until the Supreme Court ruled in 1948 that they couldn’t be enforced in court.

Earlier segregation laws in Texas had focused primarily on schools, railroads, and public facilities—areas shaped by the “separate but equal” doctrine formalized in Plessy v. Ferguson (1896). For example, the legislature had mandated separate railroad coaches for Black and White passengers in 1891 and had enforced school segregation starting in 1893 (though de facto much earlier).

Yet it was not until the 1920s, amid the rise of professional city planning and zoning nationwide, that Texas codified residential segregation through land-use law. S.B. 275 reflected this shift. It allowed cities to impose racial separation not just in social spaces but in the geography of daily life.

This article presents the full text of the bill as a primary source, accompanied by historical context and analysis of how Texas cities, particularly Austin, used zoning and public services to maintain racial separation well into the twentieth century.

By the early 20th century, city planning was emerging as a formal discipline in the United States. Influenced by Progressive Era ideals of order, efficiency, and public health, planners began using zoning as a way to regulate land use, separate industrial and residential areas, and shape long-term urban growth. In the South, these new tools were quickly adapted to serve racial ends. Zoning became not only a framework for managing development, but a means of enforcing residential segregation in the name of civic improvement.

In Texas, residential segregation had long been maintained through custom, private deed restrictions, and other mechanisms. But S.B. 275 marked a significant shift: it provided cities with explicit authority to define White and Black neighborhoods by ordinance.

The above act passed in the Senate without a roll call vote. It passed the House by a vote of 104 to 1 (two members ‘present not voting’, and the others were absent), though an earlier procedural vote to suspend the constitutional rule requiring bills to be read on three several days was opposed by six members.

Rep. Joseph McGill (D-El Paso), who served from 1925 to 1933, was the sole opponent. The House Journal records no statement by McGill in explanation of his vote against S.B. 275. The act was received in the Executive Office on March 15, 1927, and became law without the governor’s signature.

Just as S.B. 275 was enacted, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled in Harmon v. Tyler (1927) that a New Orleans ordinance requiring racial zoning was unconstitutional. The ruling reaffirmed Buchanan v. Warley (1917), which had struck down a similar law in Louisville. These decisions made it clear that state and local governments could not legally impose racial boundaries in residential areas through direct regulation.

The Supreme Court ruling Harmon v. Tyler was largely ignored and circumvented in Texas, though officials took precautions to avoid ordinances that risked being struck down.

In cities like Austin, local officials implemented segregation through the geography of municipal services. In 1928, Austin adopted a comprehensive plan that concentrated all public facilities for Black residents—schools, parks, and utilities—in a single East Austin district. By denying equivalent services elsewhere, the city created a powerful incentive for Black families to relocate, achieving de facto segregation without overt legal mandates.

This strategy extended beyond zoning to the placement of housing projects, school attendance zones, and utility expansion. The language of efficiency, cost-savings, and urban improvement masked a deliberate racial project shaped by the authority granted in SB 275 and related laws.

Meanwhile, neighborhoods of central and west Austin like Hyde Park and Travis Heights adopted Whites-only racial covenants. These private agreements prohibited homeowners from selling or leasing to non-White residents and were commonly used to preserve racial homogeneity without relying on city ordinances. Combined with the 1928 city plan, these covenants ensured that Black and Mexican American residents were pushed east of East Avenue, while white residents consolidated west of it. Together, these overlapping strategies—city planning, selective service provision, and private legal tools—effectively created a segregated city without the need for a single overt racial zoning law.

Austin’s 1928 city plan, crafted by Dallas planners Koch and Fowler, proposed concentrating all public facilities and services for Black residents in a designated “Negro District” east of East Avenue (now I-35). City leaders, including the Chamber of Commerce, supported the plan as a means to centralize the Black population and limit their presence in other parts of the city. While it did not explicitly establish racial zoning by law, the plan effectively created a segregated district by using public investment and service delivery to steer Black residents into one area.

Following the plan’s adoption, bond-funded projects were directed toward building Black-only schools, parks, and infrastructure in East Austin, while similar services were denied elsewhere. The same area would later be redlined by federal lending agencies in the 1930s, further deepening its segregation. This pattern of strategic separation—enabled by the authority granted in SB 275—shaped Austin’s racial geography for decades.

While Austin’s implementation is well-documented, other Texas cities used SB 275 and similar authority to entrench racial segregation. In Dallas, city officials drew unofficial color lines through restrictive permitting and targeted infrastructure planning. Houston relied heavily on deed covenants and later housing policy to enforce racial separation. San Antonio and Fort Worth adopted policies that concentrated public housing and services in designated Black or Mexican American neighborhoods, reinforcing geographic division.

Although the exact mechanisms varied, the intent and effect were consistent: to use the tools of city planning to maintain racial order. SB 275 provided the legal cover and institutional encouragement for these practices to flourish.

SB 275 faded from public attention, but its impact lasted for decades. Even after courts barred racial covenants in Shelley v. Kraemer (1948), planners continued to limit where Black and Hispanic residents could live. They used tools like minimum lot sizes, apartment bans, and the strategic placement of segregated public services.

Banks reinforced these patterns through redlining and discriminatory lending practices, often denying mortgages in minority neighborhoods. Private landlords and real estate agents also engaged in selective discrimination, shaping who could rent or buy homes well into the late 20th century. By the 1950s and 60s, the federal government began pulling back from openly segregated planning. Still, the legacy of S.B. 275 remained. In Austin and other Texas cities, its influence could be seen in housing patterns for generations.


This article is part of Texapedia’s curated primary source collection, which makes accessible both famous and forgotten historical records. Each source is presented with historical context and manuscript information. This collection is freely available for classroom use, research, and general public interest.