I am a transplant to Chicago. Like the generations before me, my family found a home in Chicago twenty years ago and has been privileged to experience the vast contrasts of this colorful city we have come to love. Chicago is challenging and audacious and hard work and determination define the diverse people and places that weave together the intricate fabric of this city. This city of Big Shoulders is the birthplace of people and movements that have influenced this nation and the world. Trendsetters in the worlds of finance, music, civil rights, academia, the arts and politics have all called Chicago home. In fact, there is no aspect of society that has not felt the imprint of the imaginative and creative energy of this uniquely beautiful and resilient city situated on Lake Michigan and defined by 77 communities populated by the hopes, aspirations and ingenuity of the people who call Chicago their home.
Like other big American cities, Chicago reflects the American dream - a city built on the backs and in the hearts of people determined to carve out possibilities while daring to dance in the shadows of despair. Lest we forget that while Chicago may have been founded by Jean Baptiste Point du Sable, the first non-Native settler and a man of Haitian heritage and ancestry, this land was occupied by the Council of the Three Fires: the Odawe, Ojibwa and the Potawatomi Nations. This homeland and waterways held the stories, traditions, heritage and customs of Indigenous Brothers and Sisters, long before others made this land their home.
Yet, in droves over centuries, people laid claim to Chicago as this windswept city welcomed the weary, the ambitious, the dreamers and yes, the immigrants. For some travelers seeking new lives in the warmth of other suns, they found refuge in their new home by the great lake. For some this was indeed a land flowing with potential that fueled their future successes. For others, especially those African American asylum seekers who fled the atrocities of racism in the South, Chicago provided new forms of systemic oppression, disenfranchisement and marginalization. In their new, up-south reality, the dreams of new lives became dreams deferred. Chicago, in all of her glory and unimagined possibilities, drew a red line, a definitive line that clearly indicated that not all were welcome, at least not equally.
So as Chicago welcomed the world to establish families, businesses, communities of faith and established itself as a center of commerce, education, the arts and industry, what became clear was that this city was built to take on and overcome challenges. This was the city that produced the ushered in the industrial age, hosted the World’s Fair, built skyscrapers, cheered on the Chicago Bears, created deep dish pizza and of course, nurtured the sensibilities of the first African American President of the United States.
In 1983, Chicago, with all of her faults and shortcomings, elected Harold Washington as the nation’s first African American mayor who in 1985, declared Chicago as a Sanctuary City. This designation created systems of safety designed to protect immigrants from arrest, detainment and discrimination based on their immigration status. Located in the DNA and identity of this complex and complicated city was the realization that Chicago had the capacity and courage to offer sanctuary to immigrants in need.
That is, until now.
Last Sunday, during an unseasonably warm afternoon, I experienced one of the most viscerally impactful moments of my adult life. Never could I have imagined that the renowned Art Institute of Chicago would become the backdrop for a parade of military clad men, lined up in helmets, body armor, face masks and long rifles, advancing upon unsuspecting people enjoying the beauty of a Sunday afternoon on the famed Michigan Avenue.
Until that moment, the intentional efforts of this administration to dismantle our democracy in exchange for a nation under siege, had only been theoretical. Of course, I had heard the reports of the impending arrival of the National Guard and I had witnessed the snow plow trucks lined up to keep ICE agents at bay. I had witnessed increased police activity and the sounds of hovering helicopters over our city, but seeing men, overwhelmingly white men, in formation ready and equipped to seek out, terrorize and detain human beings caused me to become enraged.
Enraged is probably not the best word to describe my feelings as I looked at the masked faces and automatic rifles the men carried on their chests. But, enraged is the word that informed my immediate reaction. How could this be happening?
These men were doing a job that perhaps caused them to question their actions, but in that moment, all I saw were white men hunting down people they deemed to be illegals. Dark, straight hair, tan and brown skin, perhaps an accent was all it took for a person’s humanity to be cast aside in order to become the hunted. They were searching for their own ideas of who belonged and who didn’t. This was the very definition of racial profiling, and here it was, in our faces, on the streets of Chicago, a Sanctuary City.
All I could imagine, as a Black woman in America and student of American history, was how closely tied this moment was to the 400 year history of enslavement of African Americans in this nation. Lest we forget!!!!! As I looked at these big men with big weapons that could quickly kill and injure hundreds of innocent people enjoying the bonus days of warm weather in the heart of Chicago, I imagined the feeling of their uncaring and obtrusive hands should they grab my body. What would I do if men, masked and menacing men, forced me to leave my child on a city sidewalk or abandon every aspect of my life. What would I do without my medication or important paperwork? What about precious family photographs or the job I had to take care of my family? What would happen to the house we’d worked hard to purchase over three decades or our grandchildren, our church, our hopes?
I could not shake the idea of the violation of my autonomy over my own body as I imagined the terror and horrors of my foremother’s experiences in this nation in the not-to-long-ago past. I reflected on my ancestors who were enslaved women and men who had no power to protect their own bodies nor the children they birthed into the world. Their bodies nor their offspring belong to them - they were property, deemed less than human with no rights that were to be observed. They existed without the designation of being fully human - only 3/5ths of a human being.
They were without authority, but like oppressed people throughout history, they held on to a power far greater than their physical being. They were connected to the power of the Spirit of God, the will to live and the audacity to believe, hope and survive. This is what I felt as I saw men, ready and prepared to use weapons of brutality and death, to capture the bodies and demolish the spirits of human beings. With or without documentation, Latino immigrants deserve to be treated with basic human dignity and compassion. Rifles, face masks, terror and intimidation are not the solutions.
So, to say I felt anguish, anger and pain that literally snatched the breath from my lungs would be an accurate statement. No one deserves to be treated in this way. No woman should have her baby ripped from her arms. People should not just disappear and Chicago is better than this moment. We cannot forget that in this city, the best and worst this world has to offer can be found. In this city, millions of people live between the realities of unimagined wealth and daily challenges to survive on the most basic levels. Housing, access to nutritious food, employment, medical care and mental health resources for many Chicagoans remains outside of their reach and for some the dreams of a sanctuary city have been replaced by a nightmare.
We can do better! I am a Black woman and I love Black people, but I also love all of God’s people. I am not equipped to discuss or decipher the responses to new arrivals, the strife between the Black and Brown community, the economic impact of housing, feeding and caring for immigrants seeking asylum in our city, but I am very clear when I say NO ONE deserves to be hunted down and taken away to unspecified locations without due process. If we are not careful and strategic in our responses to this moment, we may fin ourselves on the cusp of revisiting a revolting and horrific time in history. The term Sankofa, a Akan word from West Africa, reminds us that we must learn from our past for sound guidance in our future.
But, if I am honest, the ghosts of our past seem to be gaining on the the possibilities of our future in this nation. As Black history is being erased and rewritten, we must not remain silent. As apartment buildings are being raided by surprise attacks, we must respond. This is no longer a discussion of us and them, but of us - all of us. I can no longer give the benefit of the doubt that the laws and policies that the generations before us fought hard to imagine and establish, can protect us from the compassionless, ruthless and terroristic measures of this administration. Every person deserves due process and no one, especially children, should be treated as criminals while their parents are captured and deported. Aren’t we better than this?
I will close with the reminder that this is Chicago! The Chi! The city that inspires songs and movies and creates cultural trends. This city is revered around the world for its flavor, culture, food and flair. In this global microcosm, one can find representation from nearly every country, ethnicity and culture on this planet. This is Chicago, the style setting city, the city built upon the shoulders, back and brains of hardworking people who are not easily daunted nor afraid to stand in the face of opposition. This is Chicago! Let’s get it together and do better!
-Anonymous