ChiKat

As you can tell, I've been thinking a lot about the Chicago neighborhoods, and the dynastic history of the different ethnic groups that have moved through the city. I love learning about the flow of immigrants, being able to say, "First the Jewish doctors lived there, then the Puerto Ricans moved in and now it's Mexican, but a ton of yuppies are moving in."

We are a city that ebbs and flows.

In 1916, Carl Sandberg wrote his poem to Chicago, called "Big Shoulders". He said,

And they tell me you are crooked and I answer: Yes, it

     is true I have seen the gunman kill and go free to

     kill again.



And they tell me you are brutal and my reply is: On the

     faces of women and children I have seen the marks

     of wanton hunger.

It saddens me that those things are still true. Our politics are still corrupt, our streets are still unsafe for children. We have so much poverty, so many failing schools, so many drive-bys and drug wars.

But I love this city. I have to much hope that things will get better.

Hey! I'm being accused of being a racist on my YoChicago post!

I take the accusation very seriously, but I have to admit that a tiny part of me is delighted because I'm being accused of being racist against WHITES.

Dude, I guess my neighborhood is REALLY getting to me. Rims for the Golf are just around the corner! Represent!

My fraternal grandmother was an immigrant from Albania. She raised my father in the Albanian neighborhood that was nestled between the Italian neighborhood and the Black Panthers' office by Grand and Artesian. My father's cousins remember vividly being able to walk on the Italian, west side of Grand, but not on the east side, which belonged to the Black Panthers.

About seven years ago, my grandmother's house was knocked down to make room for condos. The Black Panthers' office was long gone by that point.

When I first started dated my husband, my dad suggested that we all meet in "Little Italy". My husband said, "Great! On Taylor, right?" because that is what the ENTIRE city of Chicago thinks of as "Little Italy".

Except for anyone who grew up in the old Italian neighborhood on Grand and Artesian.

Chicago was a huge destination for Italian immigrants, and they settled throughout the city. The Sicilians settled on Taylor Street, in the area we consider Little Italy today.

Another group of Italians settled in the area called Heart of Chicago. So when my family wants good Italian food, they go to 24th and Western, not Taylor Street. When I admitted this to my husband, he was skeptical. But then we ate dinner there and he has been devoted to the area ever since.

(Apologies to the non-Chicago readers; this is a Chicago-street-centric post.)

My maternal grandmother was an immigrant from Poland. She raised my mother in the Polish neighborhood by Belmont and Central Park. They moved out of the neighborhood in the 70's as part of the mass migration to the suburbs, but they still wax nostalgic about the "old neighborhood".

Many of the neighborhoods around Belmont and Central Park have changed ethnically since the 70's. But Belmont and Central Park is still made-up primarily of Polish immigrants (leading me to joke, whenever I go there, "God! They STILL don't speak English!").

The area is solidly working class, meaning that if you are Polish, you're fine. If you aren't, well…you might have some problems.

I go back to that neighborhood on occasion because it's STILL the best place to get the best Polish food in the city. For my mother's family, anything bought on Milwaukee Avenue is good. For example:

"This sausage is good."
"ChiKat bought it…ON MILWAUKEE."
"Oh my God! It's so amazing! This is the best sausage EVER!"

I've already mentioned this on my YoChicago blog, but it's worth linking to the article here, too. Natalie Moore has written a great little article about my neighborhood:

"Black professionals are moving in where less affluent families are being pushed out--to poorer black neighborhoods or to the south suburbs. It's conflicting to know that gentrification benefits newcomers like me and my friends."

What I found most interesting was the fact that Moore was willing to address an issue that I rarely see discussed: the fact that gentrification isn't always about white people moving into a neighborhood. In my neighborhood's case, the steady increase in middle-income blacks has done more to change the neighborhood than the 3% of white people who have bought condos here.

However, the author's concern is that with the start of gentrification from middle-class blacks, whites will soon follow and ALL blacks will be made to feel unwelcome. Is that a valid concern? It's certainly made me think about my own opinions about race and gentrification.

I've mentioned several times that I often don't feel comfortable here due to my pearly white skin. I also understand that there are many areas on the north side that I would feel comfortable in *only* if I had pearly white skin. The Woodlawn Wonder mentioned ages ago that she moved back to the south side exactly for that reason: she was sick of being the exception on the north side.

So are the articles perceptions correct? Once gentrification happens, meaning once people of *any* race start moving in who are a higher-income that current residents, is it inevitable that white people will soon follow, like a virus spreading over all the condo rehabs?

Is it just statistics? We are in the Midwest…there are a LOT of white people here.

Can a neighborhood improve but maintain the same ethic make-up?

I wanted to have a baby shower as early as possible so I would look nice and petite in pictures. January or February was ideal for me (I'm due April 13).

My mother, who is hosting the shower, planned the party four weeks before my due date. I begged her to reconsider, but she insisted that the weather in January or February could be terrible. With March, we at least had a chance that the roads would be clear.

I totally scoffed at this notion, because it hasn't snowed in January or February for ages…at least, not enough snow to impact traffic.

This February has been the coldest February in 112 YEARS. The snow, while delightful, really is snarling traffic and making the roads dangerous.

My mother would never be so crass as to point out that she was right. On the other hand, I am a stubborn, stubborn girl, so I would NEVER admit that she was right unless she out-right demands it.

Which means we have been having a lot of conversations like this:

"Such terrible weather today! Thank goodness your shower wasn't today!"
"It's a Wednesday. We were never going to have the shower on a Wednesday."
"I hear the weekend is going to be EVEN WORSE."
"It's not that bad."
"The wind chill will be minus 20 and the winds will be blowing at 22 m.p.h."
"See? That's not that bad."

Hopefully my stubbornness will keep me warm, because it is FREEZING outside!

In other baby news, the reality that there is going to be a baby LEFT ALONE with me ALL DAY has set in. I've signed us up for an infant CPR class.

The reality that there is a baby that is going to COME OUT OF HIS WIFE has set in with my husband. He's signing us up for a weekend labor preparation class. I think it's a total waste of time. I know how to breathe from yoga. If my yoga breathing fails me, I'll get an epidural.

However, since I also am fond of saying, "I feel totally comfortable about labor because I know my husband will be there to take care of me," my husband feels a certain amount of…CRUSHING PRESSURE to actually know what the hell is going on during labor.

So we're attending a TWO DAY class about labor. The class will probably last longer than my labor, but I've had this epiphany that possibly I should be supportive of my husband, especially when he's concerned about me and the baby. I have several girlfriends who complain that their husbands are useless. I feel a little silly saying, "Yeah? Well MINE wants to EDUCATE himself so he can help me during labor. WHATEVER."

Yeah, the class doesn't sound that bad when I think of it that way.

I found out the pain in my ribs, sternum and back has a name: costochondritis

"Costochondritis is an inflammation of the cartilage that connects a rib to the breastbone (sternum). It causes sharp pain in the costosternal joint — where your ribs and breastbone are joined by rubbery cartilage."

It's a nice fancy name, but there isn't really anything I can do to alleviate the pain. Ugh.

My first two trimesters were a breeze, but this last trimester has not been quite as much fun. The chest and back pain makes sitting for long periods (read: more than 15 minutes) torture. Plus, I feel huge. I've gained 20 pounds, which is not a lot considering I am 32 weeks pregnant. But it's more weight than I've ever carried, so I feel decidedly enormous.

On the bright side, my husband totally spoils me. When I first found out I was pregnant, he read this book for expectant dads. It gave all sorts of advice, like "rub her feet and give her a pedicure every week". The book made him feel terrible because he wasn't doing any of those things for me. I didn't WANT any of those things, but he still felt guilty for not spoiling me the way the book suggested. I threw away that book.

Now, it hurts for me to lean over because it crunches my ribs and sends pain shooting through my body. My husband didn't need a book to figure out that the best way to spoil me right now was to be willing to tie my shoes for me. I'm a lucky girl.

Snow, snow, snow today. The roads are lousy, travel times are three times what they normally are, and the sidewalks are a mess. I cannot express how much I love working from home.

With my alderman saying things like "even more weirder", I don't have to worry too much about someone offending her by calling her articulate. However, Biden calling Obama "articulate" has raised quite a fuss.

I guarantee you, all the fuss is going to fizzle out.

Nothing of substance will happen from Biden's remarks. Just like all the fuss after seeing the impoverished, predominantly black Katrina survivors abandoned at the SuperDome. Just like all the fuss over Bill Cosby demanding that black parents take responsibility for the education of their children.

This is yet another situation where we are at the very edge of a real debate about race…we look over the edge…and then we decisively walk away.

By "we", I mean both the black and the white communities.

I grew up in white suburbia. When I go back to that community, I see a total lack of understanding about the very real problems confronting African-Americans today. The prevalent idea in white suburbia is that somewhere, there is someone thinking seriously about race and how to improve race relations in our country. Once that mystery person comes up with a solution, the common attitude is that the white communities will follow the advice and we will reach utopia. But in the meantime, since the mystery person is still hard at work thinking of a solution, nothing really needs to be done. Especially since it doesn't *really* impact the white communities that much.

Now that I live in a black community, I get a tiny window into a different world. I'm not going to pretend I have the inside track on black America. But neighbors, this is what I can tell you: Barack Obama FAILED you. As usual, the man who never says anything wrong didn't really say anything at all. When asked to remark on Biden's comments, he said Biden's wording was "probably a little unfortunate".

How tactful. How polite.

Hey, I've got an idea. How about, when someone asks you about some senseless remark from an east coast senator, you USE the opportunity to educate the white audience about WHY "articulate" is offensive.

And while you are at it, why don't you mention to the black audience that black kids in inner-city schools are ridiculed for "sounding white" or "being uppity". Demand that education must improve in the inner city, and those improvements must come not just from the teachers but from the parents and the community as a whole. We should strive for a future in which ALL black kids can be accused of being "articulate."

Make that your campaign slogan: articulation for all.