spent the day in chicago today. not unusual for a weekend here at college. it was just a bit of a different trip i guess. thats why im gonna write about it. i dont write things here to fill space, or waste time. i only write when i really have something to say. i dont know exactly what it is that i am trying to get across just yet, but hopefully it makes sense in the end.
i am a white, educated, middle-class, suburbanite who has two loving parents, a younger brother, and a dog. i drive a 2001 honda civic that i share with my brother, my dad has a 1992 lexus and my mom drives a 2002 dodge grand caravan. i live in a 4 bedroom, 3 bath house with a garage and our own yard in front and back. when i am not there, i live in a dorm room with two other girls where i have my own bed, desk, closet and heating and air conditioning. i go out to eat at least twice a week, there is always food in my dorm room, and lunch and dinner are served daily. i have always considered school to be a waste of time and am always thinking of things i would rather be doing. i have my own cell phone with unlimited text messaging and unlimited calls. i have never had less than $150 to my name. i have always had a place to live, food to eat, clothes on my back, and money in my pockets, but i would like a new ipod, a coach purse, a bmw, a tiffanys bracelet, a new cell phone, a wardrobe from american eagle, and a digital slr camera.
and as u begin to think "you ungrateful, selfish bastard".... i hope you realize that this is probably a fairly accurate description of yourself in at least one area or another, and then you probably know where this is going. well you're wrong. there is not going to be a guilt trip. you already know exactly what im talking about.
you see, what made the trip to chicago different is that as we were walking around aimlessly taking pictures, we came to cabrini green. if you dont know what this is, you should probably get educated, but its basically the north side ghetto. government housing facilities that turned into grounds for gangs, drugs and violence. we crossed the street and stood on the corner and got some pictures of the row houses. they reminded me of a prison camp. knowing it wasnt a good area, we walked away down the street. on the next block we came to what appeared to be an abandoned apartment building. as we were shooting some pictures from this side of the iron fence, a shorter black woman in her 50s or 60s using a cane, began to walk up the walkway into the building. in shock at realizing that people actually lived there, she turned to us and asked if we would like to come inside and take pictures. i politely turned her down, then turned to my friend, and decided that we would go with her. we walked up hesitantly towards the entrance, she turned and simply said that no one was going to bother us. as we simply absorbed the entrance, which had no doors, just doorways, and the graffiti that flooded the walls that were blood red as we entered, my heart raced with fear, anticipation and my heart sunk. on the wall inside there was a picture of a boy who had been killed, surrounded by the signatures and messages of the hundreds who lived there and had known him. she took us out back, near the playground. above our heads there were balconies that had been lined with metal fencing so that people could not fall, or jump out. like a cage or jail cell. we stood there taking pictures, and then this 12 year old boy came over yelling at us for taking pictures. the woman responded that it was none of his business. he walked up and asked us what we were doing, and we all looked at him scared speechless. he asked if we were photographing the walls, i replied yes. we then turned and thanked the woman, and walked out. we continued down the street in silence, pondering all the boarded windows and darkness that embodied the building. harsh reality that we would like to ignore.
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