Texas Tourism's $193 Billion Mask: How Profits Bypass Underserved Communities

Lampasas, a quiet dot in the Texas Hill Country, just earned a shiny badge as a Tourism Friendly Texas Certified Community. The news, announced by state officials, paints a picture of a town ready to welcome visitors with open arms, eager to share its mineral springs and historic charm. It’s the kind of story that warms the heart, a reminder of the power of community pride and local hustle. But beneath the celebration lies a bigger question, one that gnaws at anyone who cares about fairness: is Texas’ tourism boom lifting everyone, or just a select few?

The certification, part of a new state program, is more than a pat on the back. It’s a signal that Lampasas has done the hard work, from planning to partnerships, to make tourism a real economic driver. With the state boasting $193 billion in annual tourism impact and 1.3 million jobs, the stakes are high. For a small town like Lampasas, the promise of new visitors means more dollars for local shops, restaurants, and maybe even a few new jobs. Yet, as someone who’s seen the uneven spread of prosperity, I can’t help but wonder if this is enough.

Tourism, at its best, can transform a place. It brings outsiders to marvel at what locals have always known, sparking pride and possibility. But without careful planning, it can also widen gaps, leaving marginalized communities on the sidelines. Lampasas’ win is worth celebrating, but it’s also a chance to demand more from Texas, to push for a vision of tourism that doesn’t just shine for some but radiates opportunity for all.

Texas loves to tout its tourism numbers, and they’re impressive. In 2024, 115 million domestic visitors poured $193.8 billion into the state’s economy, supporting one in every 11 jobs. Cities like Dallas and Fort Worth rake in billions, with tax revenues that ease the burden on residents. Even smaller spots like Early, Texas, see millions in visitor spending, enough to fund schools and roads. But these figures hide a truth: the benefits don’t flow evenly. Rural and underserved communities, often rich in culture and history, too rarely see the same windfall.

Take Lampasas. Its springs and festivals are a draw, but the town’s success depends on more than charm. Certification programs like Tourism Friendly Texas offer training and visibility, critical for places with tight budgets. Yet, the process demands resources, time, and expertise that not every community can muster. Towns with fewer connections or less infrastructure, often home to people of color or low-income families, face steeper hurdles. If Texas wants to claim tourism as a universal good, it needs to level the playing field, not just cheer for the winners.

Then there’s the question of what tourism promotes. The state’s ‘Let’s Texas’ campaign loves to spotlight rugged landscapes and cowboy lore, but it often glosses over the diverse stories that make Texas real, from Indigenous heritage to Black and Latino contributions. Lampasas, with its deep history, could be a model for telling these stories, but only if the state invests in inclusive narratives. Otherwise, we’re selling a half-truth, one that erases the very people who built these communities.

Some argue tourism naturally trickles down, that a rising tide lifts all boats. But that’s a convenient myth. Without deliberate policies, visitor dollars often pool in predictable places, upscale hotels, chain restaurants, while local vendors and minority-owned businesses scrape by. Dallas’ $6.6 billion in visitor spending sounds grand, but how much reaches the neighborhoods that need it most? Texas can’t afford to ignore this gap, not when equity is at stake.

The state’s defenders might point to job creation, and they’re not wrong. Tourism supports 1.3 million jobs, from waiters to tour guides. But many of these are low-wage, seasonal gigs with little security. If we’re serious about economic justice, we need tourism that fosters stable, living-wage careers, not just quick cash. Lampasas’ certification is a step, but it’s not the finish line.

Lampasas’ achievement offers a blueprint, but it’s incomplete without a broader vision. Texas could transform its tourism strategy by prioritizing equity and sustainability. Start with funding: expand grants and training for small towns, especially those historically overlooked. Make certification accessible, not a privilege for the well-connected. Imagine every community, no matter how small or strapped, having a shot to shine.

Next, rethink what we’re selling. Travelers today crave authenticity, not just postcard views. They want stories, connections, experiences that feel human. Texas could lead by amplifying marginalized voices, investing in cultural festivals, and promoting businesses owned by people of color. Lampasas could host a festival celebrating local Indigenous history or spotlight Latino artisans, drawing visitors who’d never otherwise come. It’s not just right; it’s smart business.

Sustainability matters too. The surge in ‘townsizing,’ where travelers seek quiet, small-town escapes, is a golden opportunity. But without careful planning, tourism can strain resources, from water to housing. Texas needs to guide communities like Lampasas to grow thoughtfully, preserving what makes them special while welcoming new faces. That means investing in infrastructure, not just marketing.

Some might argue this focus on equity slows progress, that we should let markets decide. But markets aren’t neutral; they favor the powerful. Left unchecked, tourism can gentrify, pushing out the very locals it claims to help. Texas has a chance to prove them wrong, to show that growth and fairness can coexist. Lampasas’ certification isn’t just a win for one town; it’s a call to action for the state.

Lampasas’ new title as a Tourism Friendly Texas Community is a spark, a sign of what’s possible when a town bets on itself. But Texas can’t stop here. The state’s tourism machine, with its billions in impact, has the power to reshape communities, to create jobs, and to tell stories that matter. The question is whether we’ll use that power to include everyone or let it deepen old divides.

As visitors flock to Lampasas’ springs and streets, I hope they see more than a pretty view. I hope they see a state wrestling with its future, striving to make opportunity real for every corner, every voice. Texas tourism can be a force for good, but only if we demand it. Let’s make sure the next certification, the next billion, doesn’t just celebrate success but builds a fairer, brighter tomorrow.