Desegregation in 2009

I moved to the border of Hyde Park and Washington Park (both southeastern neighborhoods of Chicago) four years ago and to say that it was a "work in progress" would've have been much too generous. Although the building that I moved into is for owners, the majority of the area was still inhabited by renters. Historically, people who rent tend to value their homes less than those who own. Add this basic fact to the fact that these homes were once rented to some of the poorest residents in Chicago and you have a community that is starkly divided economically.

Although we are all Black, there has always been tension between "us and them." They watched as all of their homes, parks, stores, and streets became ours. They had no voice about the change sweeping through their community, simply because they didn't pay income tax, property tax, or homeowner's association fees. Our voice, however sounds like "cha-ching," so when we dial 911 to make a noise complaint, report littering, or demand the lawns be mowed "for safety reasons," we get results. Big brother has even taken up post on our streets, dutifully watching and protecting us homeowners from the evils of the hood.

I won't say that I never empathized with them, I really did understand their dislike of us. I imagine that they felt invaded. The corner stores where they had once relaxed and felt comfortable were being replaced by Starbuck's and no, they do not accept food stamps thank you very much. What I couldn't understand was the lack of pride in themselves as Blacks and in their community at large that allowed them to believe that littering, tagging, or prostitution was acceptable in the first place.

The proverbial tug of war has continued over the past four years, with us slowly winning. Each year it has become increasingly more safe, more clean, and more socialized than the year before. More businesses deliver to my home and accept Visa, while fewer and fewer accept food stamps and sell liquor. That has been the gradual progression. More homeowners, more dogs, more cars, more money. I have not complained about any of it!! I've felt no guilt, no remorse, only hope that our victory over this wild side of our community would come quickly.

Then came the bid for the Olympics in 2016. I was very excited at all of the socioeconomic change that would be necessary to even be considered to host such an event. Purchasing a home in this "ghetto" suddenly didn't seem like such a crazy idea. Four year old potholes have magically disappeared, the streets have been repaved, garbage cans have actually been placed in the park and last but certainly not least, a state of the art playground was built in Washington Park.

However as the residents preceding myself learned, change does not come cheap. Today at the playground I was a minority for the first time since leaving Arizona. I was the only Black person among a group of Whites, and I felt uneasy. I found myself discouraging Jackson from interacting with the other kids, feeling as though somehow we played differently and they wouldn't understand. I realized then that this is how it must have felt to them when we moved in. The security that I had previously felt in my surroundings was based on the fact that those around me were very much like me. Now just like them, I felt invaded; fearful that our world would not be the same now that they were in it.

I wonder if this is how desegregation felt?