It’s the mid-1970s, and a young woman moves to St. Louis to study at WashU. She makes her home in the Delmar Loop and quickly learns the phrase “North of Delmar,” shorthand for an unofficial racial and economic divide in St. Louis. That is the starting point of a new novel by Ellen Barker, AB ’76 — and the book’s premise has much in common with Barker’s own life.

Barker, who grew up in a modest Catholic family in Kansas City, came to WashU in 1972 to study urban affairs. After graduating, she worked for several years as an urban planner at East-West Gateway. She later spent decades in the private sector working for environmental and civil engineering firms in Boston and the Bay Area before retiring and beginning a second career as a novelist. “Nothing North of Delmar,” her fourth novel, blends a coming-of-age story with an exploration of redlining, racism, and segregation that still play out along Delmar Avenue today. Her forthcoming novel, “Lulu in the Loop,” slated for March 2027, is also set in the Delmar Loop.

Barker sat down with the Ampersand to talk about her time at WashU, the power of fiction, and how she became a novelist in her second act.

How did you end up at WashU?

I’m from Kansas City, and I grew up in a family where no one had gone to college. A counselor at my high school had a photo of Brookings Hall up on the wall in her office, and she told me she thought it would be a good choice for me. The day I moved onto campus was the first time I ever set foot there. It was obvious from the moment I arrived that I had found my place. 

Back then, I couldn’t imagine flying to go away to college. I don’t think anyone I knew had even been on an airplane. But when I got to WashU, I made friends whose parents owned planes, including two people on my freshman floor. It was eye-opening for me to meet people from all over the world who had different upbringings, accents, and religions. I couldn’t go far away for college, but at WashU, far away came to me. 

Your most recent novel is set in St. Louis in 1976, the year you graduated from WashU. How much of your own experience is in the novel?

My books have quite a few elements of autofiction. I could have written a memoir instead, but I don’t think my life is that interesting. But I really believe in the power of fiction to teach. Fiction can inform in a way that’s accessible and memorable. I’m a reader myself — I think I’ve read 10,000 books — and I like stories that are engaging and that teach me something in the end. My interest in writing about social issues grew out of my own experience attending Catholic school, where I was taught by nuns who had us out leafleting for the Fair Housing Act in seventh and eighth grade.

You studied urban planning at WashU and worked in that field for many years. How did you transition from urban planning and consulting to becoming a novelist, and how did that work impact your writing?

At WashU, I studied urban affairs, but I also took writing classes for fun. Back then, it wasn’t common to have a double major or minor, but I had enough English credits to major in that as well. I loved writing, but it didn’t seem to me to be a career path. 

As a consultant, I did technical writing, including proposals related to bridges, highways, military work, water, and wastewater sewage. I also loved urban studies. Working as an urban planner for East-West Gateway in the late 1970s was great; there were a lot of young people there doing interesting things. That’s when emissions testing for cars was about to start, and we worked on air and water quality. 

After a career in consulting, I was able to retire a few years early, and that’s when I wrote my first book. My life experience helped me write about my field, including my time at East-West Gateway — even though that section of “Nothing North of Delmar” is completely fictional — as well as broader societal issues.

How have WashU and St. Louis changed since the period you write about in the book?

Segregation and gentrification still affect St. Louis, and I find downtown almost unrecognizable. Buildings have come and gone, and whole streetscapes have changed. 

WashU’s physical campus has changed, of course. And there are many more opportunities today for students to specialize in niche majors or career paths. But some things are the same. 

I’ve always felt that WashU is deeply connected to its surrounding community and less defined by the sense of a gilded bubble. As an in-state scholarship student, I experienced that connection firsthand. But it’s also evident in the university’s integration with Barnes-Jewish Hospital, where so many St. Louisans receive care; in the opportunities for community members to take part-time classes through University College; and in initiatives like “In St. Louis, For St. Louis,” which underscore the university’s commitment to the region. Ultimately, it benefits WashU for St. Louis to be strong, and it benefits St. Louis for WashU to be strong.