How perceptions of Chicago South Side effect reality
Last week, the Chicago Reader published an article about the efforts of the residents of Wrightwood, a Chicago Southwest Side working-class neighborhood, to keep a pawnshop from moving into their community. It's a pretty interesting piece, and I'd recommend it to anyone interested in Chicago and community development in general.
But what struck me about this article was that there is a bit of context that many readers would be missing.
When most people think of Chicago South Side, they tend to think of a gang-infested, graffiti-covered, poverty-ridden wasteland filled with junk, bullet holes and a general sense of helplessness. And, indeed, there are neighborhoods south of Cermak Road that are in a pretty bad shape. But as someone who has explored the South Side for quite a bit, I can tell you that this part of Chicago is more multifaceted than that.
Now, this is the part where some of the more knowledgeable Chicagoans would jump in and say - yes, of course there are exceptions. There is Bridgeport, the heart of the Chicago Democratic Machine that has gradually changed from a staunchly ethnic white neighborhood to a multi-ethnic neighborhood where Chinese-American, Mexican-Americans and eyes, even a few African-Americans live side-by-side with descendents of older residents. There is Hyde Park, an integrated middle-class neighborhood that has pretty much walled itself off from the surrounding area thanks to University of Chicago's considerable resources, money and clout. There is Kenwood, a middle-class African-American community with very fascinating recent history. There are the 19th Ward communities - Beverly, Mt Greenwood and Morgan Park. And a few people might point out Pullman - a former company town that remains an island of peace thanks, in large part, because the railroad tracks, the highway and the vacant industrial areas surround it on all sides.
But those aren't the places I want to focus on at the moment.
Because, scattered throughout South Side and parts of the nearby Southwest Side are working-class and middle-class communities where African-Americans account for the majority of the population. Places where residents carefully maintain their homes and watch vigilantly for any signs of gang activity. Places with long-running family owned businesses. Places where robberies and vandalism still have the power to shock.
In other words, neighborhoods that, aside from race, aren't much different from the middle-class and working-class communities on the North and Northwest Sides.
To give you a better idea of what I'm talking about, I'm posting the pictures I took in working-class neighborhoods throughout Chicago. I invite you to guess - based on the visuals alone - which pictures were taken on the North Side and which pictures were taken on the South Side.
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
The correct answer is actually quite simple. Every odd-numbered picture was taken on the North Side. Every even-numbered picture was taken on the South Side.
But if you are a North Sider and somebody tells you they live on the South Side, they probably picture something like this
Residents of neighborhoods like Wrightwood and Calumet Heights are quite aware of this perception. They know that this is why they have trouble attracting new businesses. And as many long-running businesses shut down, either because the owners want to retire or because of bad economy, the problem becomes even more acute.
As the Reader article points out, the pawn shop decided to come to Wrightwood in large part because of the South Side stigma. And the residents were rightfully upset.
But that's not the only thing that upset them. They worry that, if they are not careful, the South Side stigma would become a self-fulfilling prophecy. They worry that if they let in a pawn shop, it would attract gangs and violence. And, if that happens, everything they worked so hard maintain will collapse.
It's the same reason why affordable housing is such a touchy subject in the area. When Chatham, a middle-class African-Americans, saw an upswing in violent crime in the second half of 2000s, residents blamed former public housing residents that supposedly came flooding in the area once high-rises like Cabrini-Green's White Walls were torn down.
When it comes right down to it, the residents are worried about pawn shops and affordable housing for the same reason as their white counterparts on the North and Northwest Sides. But the stakes are different. Everybody knows North Side is a safe place where rich people live. The real story is much more complicated, but the perception is there, and it helps the neighborhoods that don't quite fit the pattern. And when a shooting does happen, it's seen as an isolated incident. When a pawn shop opens, it doesn't affect the surrounding neighborhood's reputation.
But on the South Side, every neighborhood is assumed to be a gang-ridden hellhole until proven otherwise. And everything that supports that image becomes part of the pattern.
In the Reader article, one of the residents argued that the stigma is already starting to have an effect.
"It used to be that when the garbage men came and they dropped something, they would pick it up, but now when they drop something they keep on going," says Tanya White, an accountant who's lived in Wrightwood for 27 years (she and her family were the first African-Americans on their block). "It's a shame to see the downgrading of your community."
And that, in itself, is quite telling.
But what struck me about this article was that there is a bit of context that many readers would be missing.
When most people think of Chicago South Side, they tend to think of a gang-infested, graffiti-covered, poverty-ridden wasteland filled with junk, bullet holes and a general sense of helplessness. And, indeed, there are neighborhoods south of Cermak Road that are in a pretty bad shape. But as someone who has explored the South Side for quite a bit, I can tell you that this part of Chicago is more multifaceted than that.
Now, this is the part where some of the more knowledgeable Chicagoans would jump in and say - yes, of course there are exceptions. There is Bridgeport, the heart of the Chicago Democratic Machine that has gradually changed from a staunchly ethnic white neighborhood to a multi-ethnic neighborhood where Chinese-American, Mexican-Americans and eyes, even a few African-Americans live side-by-side with descendents of older residents. There is Hyde Park, an integrated middle-class neighborhood that has pretty much walled itself off from the surrounding area thanks to University of Chicago's considerable resources, money and clout. There is Kenwood, a middle-class African-American community with very fascinating recent history. There are the 19th Ward communities - Beverly, Mt Greenwood and Morgan Park. And a few people might point out Pullman - a former company town that remains an island of peace thanks, in large part, because the railroad tracks, the highway and the vacant industrial areas surround it on all sides.
But those aren't the places I want to focus on at the moment.
Because, scattered throughout South Side and parts of the nearby Southwest Side are working-class and middle-class communities where African-Americans account for the majority of the population. Places where residents carefully maintain their homes and watch vigilantly for any signs of gang activity. Places with long-running family owned businesses. Places where robberies and vandalism still have the power to shock.
In other words, neighborhoods that, aside from race, aren't much different from the middle-class and working-class communities on the North and Northwest Sides.
To give you a better idea of what I'm talking about, I'm posting the pictures I took in working-class neighborhoods throughout Chicago. I invite you to guess - based on the visuals alone - which pictures were taken on the North Side and which pictures were taken on the South Side.
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
The correct answer is actually quite simple. Every odd-numbered picture was taken on the North Side. Every even-numbered picture was taken on the South Side.
But if you are a North Sider and somebody tells you they live on the South Side, they probably picture something like this
Residents of neighborhoods like Wrightwood and Calumet Heights are quite aware of this perception. They know that this is why they have trouble attracting new businesses. And as many long-running businesses shut down, either because the owners want to retire or because of bad economy, the problem becomes even more acute.
As the Reader article points out, the pawn shop decided to come to Wrightwood in large part because of the South Side stigma. And the residents were rightfully upset.
But that's not the only thing that upset them. They worry that, if they are not careful, the South Side stigma would become a self-fulfilling prophecy. They worry that if they let in a pawn shop, it would attract gangs and violence. And, if that happens, everything they worked so hard maintain will collapse.
It's the same reason why affordable housing is such a touchy subject in the area. When Chatham, a middle-class African-Americans, saw an upswing in violent crime in the second half of 2000s, residents blamed former public housing residents that supposedly came flooding in the area once high-rises like Cabrini-Green's White Walls were torn down.
When it comes right down to it, the residents are worried about pawn shops and affordable housing for the same reason as their white counterparts on the North and Northwest Sides. But the stakes are different. Everybody knows North Side is a safe place where rich people live. The real story is much more complicated, but the perception is there, and it helps the neighborhoods that don't quite fit the pattern. And when a shooting does happen, it's seen as an isolated incident. When a pawn shop opens, it doesn't affect the surrounding neighborhood's reputation.
But on the South Side, every neighborhood is assumed to be a gang-ridden hellhole until proven otherwise. And everything that supports that image becomes part of the pattern.
In the Reader article, one of the residents argued that the stigma is already starting to have an effect.
"It used to be that when the garbage men came and they dropped something, they would pick it up, but now when they drop something they keep on going," says Tanya White, an accountant who's lived in Wrightwood for 27 years (she and her family were the first African-Americans on their block). "It's a shame to see the downgrading of your community."
And that, in itself, is quite telling.