PHOTO/ JEREMY NICHOLLS
CHICAGO, IL — Most days I walk about three blocks down Wilson Avenue in Uptown, Chicago, to and from work. The street tells countless stories: a few apartments occupied by those once homeless; an abandoned Burger King turned into an expensive glass high-rise; activists protesting our authorities trying to prevent people from feeding and giving shelter to the poor. I’ve seen developments grow before my eyes. I’ve seen the embrace of friends and the beauty of forgiveness. I’ve watched the tragic gutting and destruction of the Wilson Men’s Hotel, causing a traumatic path of homelessness and loneliness. I’ve had people dangle their keys in front of me, proudly revealing their journey from homelessness to housed.
To me, one building cries out more than others: the Stewart School Lofts. These luxury apartments used to be an elementary school that had a playground and a little park adjoined to it. Cultures would come together, kids would play, friends would unite on the benches, and families would picnic in the grass. Then the city’s Mayor Emanuel and his aldermen (including Uptown’s Alderman Cappleman) shuttered over 50 schools, Stewart School included.
This closing caused an uproar. It reeked of gentrification, catering to Uptown’s elite. It was also a vicious punch in the gut to the poor and homeless! More than the sad reality of children losing their neighborhood school, this affected kids that stayed at Cornerstone Community Outreach, the homeless shelter I work at. Many community people wanted the abandoned school to become something redemptive: community center, food co-op, subsidized housing, or another homeless shelter. We watched the systematic criminalizing, targeting, and isolating of those who are poor and homeless. The city held meetings, but they didn’t listen to the poor and activists. The goal of the alderman and his friends was plain and simple: displace actual Uptown residents, and create luxury housing that the poor could never afford!
The city tore playgrounds down. The police slowly drove through that stretch, frequently asking for IDs. The park benches disappeared. Despite the targeting, they couldn’t eradicate the community. Another Tent City formed in the grass. It grew, and the community helped and supported the residents. The authorities eventually came in with military weaponry, uniforms, fences, and threats of criminal trespassing, shutting them out with nowhere to go! Rejected once again by those paid to serve and protect.
An elderly man told me how his father was Stewart School’s janitor. Decades later he ended up sleeping in a tent opposite the abandoned school, only to be forced out into homelessness by the authorities. This man passed away about a month ago. He remained homeless, and used to sit daily on the local Church steps, shut out and excluded, with the luxury lofts looming eerily in the background. Community has been lost by this gated luxury apartment complex with “no trespassing” signs and security cameras everywhere. No soccer, no one sits and chats to their friends, no kids climb the playground equipment. All the people who invested so much into this once vibrant area could never afford their elaborate prices.
