Chicago Sun-Times: All posts by Jade Yan

Chicago LGBTQ landmarks: Have your own Pride Parade, take our tour of 17 Chicago LGBTQ landmarks to learn more about the city’s gay life, history

2023-06-01T14:59:27.784-05:00

We won’t have scenes like this from last year because the coronavirus pandemic means there’s no Chicago Pride Parade on the last Sunday of June as usual this year.

Rick Majewski | Sun-Times

Chicago has long been a hub of LGBTQ+ life and culture and advocacy for LGBTQ+ rights.

There’s a rich queer history that includes hosting what’s believed to be the nation’s first pride parade (in June 1970), passing a pioneering human rights ordinance in 1988 offering protections from discrimination, and electing Lori Lightfoot in 2018 as the city’s first LGBTQ+ mayor.

There was no Chicago Pride Parade in 2020 because of the coronavirus pandemic. So at the time, we put together this list to highlight some key places and moments in the city’s LGBTQ+ life and history. Even though there’s a parade this year, you can still take the self-guided tour.

Bughouse Square

901 N. Clark St.

People gathered at Bughouse Square in 1975.

Sun-Times file

The grassy area of what’s technically Washington Square Park has long been known as Bughouse Square and as a tourist destination because of its history as a center for public debate.

In the LGBTQ+ community, Bughouse Square also was known as a popular cruising area and hook-up site and, as the community grew, somewhere queer people could go and realize they weren’t alone, according to Owen Keehnen, a Chicago LGBTQ+ historian.

“People were shocked that there were this many gay people in the world,” Keehnen says. “They might have grown up thinking they were the only one, only to realize, ‘I guess I’m not.’”

Bughouse Square also holds another distinction in gay history. It’s where the nation’s first pride parade began — on June 27, 1970.

The march marked the first anniversary of New York City’s 1969 Stonewall riots, the uprising that followed a police raid on the gay club the Stonewall Inn and became a catalyst for the gay rights movement.

New York’s own parade — the Christopher Street Liberation Day march, marking the same anniversary — was held June 28, 1970, a day after Chicago’s march, according to Devlyn Camp, producer of the podcast “A Queer Serial.”

The Picasso

50 W. Washington St.

The Picasso sculpture downtown was where marchers finished the first pride parade in 1970.

Rich Hein / Sun-Times

Located downtown at Daley Plaza, the untitled Picasso sculpture, unveiled in 1967, is the site of a landmark moment in LGBTQ+ history: the end of that first pride march in 1970.

People marched from Bughouse Square to the Picasso at what was then called the Civic Center Plaza.

Albert Williams, a Columbia College Chicago professor and former editor of the Windy City Times LGBTQ+ newspaper, was there and says the march ended with a circle dance at the Picasso.

The Legacy Walk

3245-3704 N. Halsted St.

The Legacy Walk features rainbow pylons and plaques commemorating the life and work of notable LGBTQ figures and events.

Anthony Vazquez/Sun-Times

The Legacy Walk outdoor walking museum stretches just over a half a mile on Halsted Street, between Belmont Avenue and Grace Street, in the largely LGBTQ+ Lake View neighborhood known as Northhalsted. (Note: The neighborhood officially dropped the name Boystown and adopted Northhalsted in September 2020.)

The city declared it a historic landmark last year.

It’s marked by rainbow-colored pylons standing 25 feet tall that line both sides of Halsted. Each pylon features a pair of figures and events key to the LGBTQ+ rights movement, among them writers James Baldwin and Walt Whitman and the Stonewall riots.

“Grade-school kids are brought in and go down it,” says Rick Garcia, a longtime activist who lives in Edgewater. “It shows gay people throughout history who made significant contributions. Seeing that draws people from all over the country.”

Center on Halsted

3656 N. Halsted St.

The Center on Halsted, 3656 N. Halsted St., is an LGBTQ+ community center offering social services.

Anthony Vazquez / Sun-Times

After visiting the Legacy Walk, you can stop by the Center on Halsted, an LGBTQ+ community center at 3656 N. Halsted St. that opened in 2007.

The center provides social services and community programs including HIV testing, group therapy, workshops and meals for people over 55 and vocational development help.

Northalsted

East Lake View

A hub of gay-owned businesses and bustling nightlife, the heavily LGBTQ+ North Side neighborhood known as Northalsted received the city's official designation as a gay village in 1997.

Running generally from the lake to west of Clark Street between Irving Park Road and Diversey Avenue, it’s where you can find some of the oldest and best-known gay bars in Chicago.

Among them are a pair of longstanding nightlife handouts: Roscoe’s Tavern, 3356 N. Halsted St., and Sidetrack Chicago, 3349 N. Halsted St.

Since the early days of Northalsted, the bars and nightlife that can be found along Halsted Street and nearby have been a magnet for LGBTQ+ people, according to Keehnen.

“Bars are so important,” he says. “It’s not just to drink and pick people up. They were simply so important because, if there isn’t a place for community to happen, community doesn’t happen.”

AIDS Garden

3003 N. Lakefront Trail

Keith Haring’s “Self Portrait” sits in the middle of the AIDS Garden at 3003 N Lakefront Trail, formerly the site of the Belmont Rocks.

Anthony Vazquez / Sun-Times

The Belmont Rocks lining the lakefront between Diversey Harbor and Belmont Harbor were a place for forging and solidifying friendships in the LGBTQ+ community, says Keehnen, 60, who lives in Rogers Park. From sun-tanning to having picnic lunches, the limestone blocks offered a safe place for queer Chicagoans to congregate.

In 2003, the city paved over the Belmont Rocks, and Keehnen posted on Facebook bemoaning this loss. Ald. Tom Tunney (44th), who is gay, paid notice. So did the Chicago Park District. As a result, Keehnen and others helped envision an AIDS Garden to be built where the Belmont Rocks were.

It so far includes “Self-Portrait,” a green sculpture, standing 30 feet tall, created by artist and AIDS activist Keith Haring of a man that’s visible from Lake Shore Drive. Landscaping still needs to be done, and the garden is expected to be fully open sometime in the fall, according to Keehnen, who works as a historian for the project.

The garden also will include a walkway with a chronology of the AIDS epidemic in Chicago.

Keehnen says it’s “not a memorial garden. It’s to celebrate not only the lives that were lost, but also those that survived and the coming together of a community to endure the disease.”

Women & Children First

5233 N. Clark St.

Women & Children First bookstore is on Clark Street in Andersonville, an area nicknamed “Girlstown.”

Tyler LaRiviere / Sun-Times

Women & Children First started as a feminist bookstore founded to address a scarcity of feminist literature in Chicago, according to co-founder Linda Bubon, and “really evolved in an organic kind of way” into a store that caters to the LGBTQ+ community that developed in Andersonville in the 1990s.

Some who live there since the 1990s credit the bookshop with helping Andersonville grow into the city’s best-known lesbian community, known as Girlstown.

The store has held memorial services and lesbian showers and in recent years also worked to deepen its ties with the transgender community.

Leather Archives & Museum

6418 N. Greenview Ave.

Leather Archives & Museum, 6418 N. Greenview Ave., in Rogers Park.

Tyler LaRiviere / Sun-Times

The Leather Archives & Museum, founded by gay business people Chuck Renslow and Tony DeBlase, celebrates the leather and bondage subculture. Rather than present the subculture as taboo, it offers exhibitions that include bondage gear and also literature and art that the owners say shows the subculture as a movement integral to the LGBTQ+ community.

Aragon Ballroom

1106 W. Lawrence Ave.

The Aragon Ballroom, which dates to 1926, was the site of a 1977 protest of singer Anita Bryant and her anti-gay campaign. The Uptown hall is seen here in 1968.

Sun-Times file

The Aragon Ballroom, a music venue that dates to 1926, has long hosted pop music concerts and, in 1977 and 1978, was the venue for Orange Balls and other LGBTQ+ fundraisers.

The Orange Balls, held by gay activists including Renslow, were held to protest singer Anita Bryant’s anti-gay Save Our Children campaign. In response, gay activists held the Orange Balls.

Medinah Temple

600 N. Wabash Ave.

Medinah Temple on Wabash Avenue, seen here in 1998, was a site of 1977 protests against anti-gay activist Anita Bryant.

Rich Hein/ Sun-Times

Medinah Temple, an Islamic Revival-style building, originally was a 4,200-seat auditorium and now is a Macy’s store. In 1977, it was the site of a protest against Bryant and her anti-gay coalition.

When Bryant came to Chicago to perform at the Shriners Hospital for Children, gay and lesbian protesters marched in a circle around Medinah Temple, holding signs that read “God drinks wine, not orange juice”— a reference to Bryant’s orange juice commercials — and “Anita is McCarthy in drag,” according to historian John D’Emilio.

Henry Gerber House

1710 N. Crilly Ct.

The Henry Gerber House, 1704 N. Crilly Ct., commemorates Gerber, who created the nation’s first gay liberation group.

Tyler LaRiviere / Sun-Times

The Henry Gerber House is one in a row of protected landmark Queen Anne-style houses in Old Town. Granted that status by the city in 2001, it’s where Henry Gerber secretly organized the nation’s first gay emancipation group.

It was designated a national historic landmark in 2015 — the second in the nation, after the Stonewall Inn, to get that designation because of its significance in LGBTQ+ history.

Gerber, a Bavarian immigrant lauded as the grandfather of the American gay movement, created the group in 1924 and named it the Society for Human Rights in an effort to organize gays nationwide. But the group was short-lived. In 1925, the police raided Gerber’s house, arrested him and shut down the society.

Even though the legal case against Gerber ultimately was dismissed, it cost Gerber his $600 life savings and his job at the post office for “conduct unbecoming a postal worker.”

Remembering Gerber, in Camp’s eyes, is a way to commemorate LGBTQ+ ancestors.

Gerber/Hart Library and Archives

6500 N. Clark St.

The Gerber/Hart Library and Archives, 6500 N. Clark St., in Rogers Park, focuses on LGBTQ+ Midwestern history.

Tyler LaRiviere / Sun-Times

Just north of Devon Avenue, the Gerber/Hart Library and Archives is named for Gerber and Pearl Hart, who fought against police violence toward gays. The library focuses on LGBTQ+ history from Chicago and the Midwest and hosts lectures, workshops and classes.

Chicago Coliseum

1513 S. Wabash Ave.

In the early 1900s, the third Chicago Coliseum hosted some of the city’s first public gay dances and drag balls.

Sun-Times file

Chicago’s three coliseums, no longer in existence, were indoor arenas used for sports and exhibitions— and, from the 1930s, drag balls and gay dances.

The city’s third coliseum, on South Wabash Avenue, hosted drag balls in the 1930s that drew diverse crowds and eventually were sponsored by African American business owners, according to historian Tristan Cabello.

Later, the same coliseum was where Chicago’s first public gay dance, in the 1960s, was held by Chicago’s Gay Liberation Front. The organization had hosted dances twice before at the University of Chicago but got kicked off the university’s campus for violating dance attendance limits and moved to the coliseum, making the dance public. A Black insurance broker insured the dance at the Chicago Coliseum after other agents refused to do so for fear of police raids.

You still can see a trace of the third coliseum in the form of Coliseum Park, facing its former site, now a lay Buddhist building. The park’s stone and metal pavilion is reminiscent of the third coliseum’s castle-style turrets and crenellations.

Jane Addams Hull-House Museum

800 S. Halsted St.

The historic Jane Addams Hull-House.

Tyler LaRiviere / Sun-Times

Jane Addams, who won the Nobel Peace Prize in 1931, founded Hull-House, Chicago’s first settlement, on the Near West Side in 1889. These places, which originated in London in the 1880s, provided social services and aimed to help address social problems that arose amid urbanization, immigration and industrialization.

What Chicagoans might not know about Addams is that she had a relationship with a woman, Mary Rozet Smith, for 40 years. She was inducted posthumously into the Chicago LGBT Hall of Fame in 2008.

From the late 1800s to early 1900s, a group of residents at the Hull-House — Addams included — provided education and day care to children of working mothers and English and citizenship classes to immigrants. The house now is a museum commemorating Addams’ work.

Jeffery Pub

7041 S. Jeffery Blvd.

Jeffery Pub is an African American-owned gay bar at 7041 S. Jeffery Blvd. in South Shore.

Tyler Pasciak LaRiviere/Sun-Times file

Jeffery Pub is one of the oldest gay bars in the city and the country and, according to owner Jamal Junior, the only African American-owned LGBTQ+ bar in Chicago.

With much of Chicago’s LGBTQ+ hub concentrated on the North Side, Jeffery Pub often was seen as a refuge for people from South Shore or the south suburbs.

“We’re 100% open for everyone to come in,” Junior says. “But when there were issues on the North Side, African American communities were always able to have a safe home on the South Side at Jeffery Pub.”

La Cueva

4153 W. 26th St.

La Cueva nightclub, 4153 W. 26th St., in Little Village.

Tyler LaRiviere / Sun-Times

It’s a myth that the Latino community is reluctant to accept LGBTQ+ people, according Garcia, the longtime activist. And La Cueva nightclub in Little Village offers testament to that. It hosts drag shows and other entertainment, Garcia says, and is a hub of LGBTQ+ nightlife.

Finnie’s Balls

38th Street and Michigan Avenue

The approximate location of a tavern in the 3800 block of South Michigan Avenue in Bronzeville that hosted Finnie’s Balls from 1935 until the 1940s.

Tyler LaRiviere / Sun-Times

In 1935, the basement of a tavern at 38th Street and Michigan Avenue hosted the first of what were called Finnie’s Balls — a series of drag balls created by Black gay gambler and street hustler Alfred Finnie.

Guests paid a quarter to enter the first gathering, which was a small affair compared to the lavish event it later became.

In the early days, the balls provided gay and lesbian people with the opportunity to socialize publicly in an intimate setting. They were held about five times a year at various locations until 1943, when Finnie was killed in a gambling brawl.

(Editor’s note: A version of this story was originally published in June 2020.)

Chicago murals: In Little Village alleys near Cook County Jail, 2 Chicago graffiti artists create all-female ‘space of our own’

2020-09-04T11:00:00-05:00

The corrugated iron wall that borders one side of the all-female graffiti artists’ space that artists Bel and Phina have created, as seen from the entrance at 2725 S. Sacramento Ave. in the shadows of the Cook County Jail.

Provided

In a no-man’s-land behind the Cook County Jail in Little Village, two Chicago graffiti artists have created a space for female artists to express themselves.

Chicago’s murals and mosaics sidebar

Chicago’s murals & mosaics

Part of a series on public art in the city and suburbs. More murals are added every week.

The size of a football field, the space is an old railroad right-of-way. It includes a cinderblock wall down one side and a metal wall down the other that runs into an alley.

And it’s all covered in graffiti murals — large-scale, carefully curated productions that change two or three times a year.

An array of murals snakes through unpaved alleys in the shadow of the Cook County Jail.

Robert Herguth / Sun-Times

The art started seven years ago, with an all-female graffiti jam called Splash started by two women who, for their art, go by the names Bel and Phina.

Part of a cinderblock wall near 26th Street and Sacramento Avenue, painted with graffiti art this summer.

Robert Herguth / Sun-Times

Women have to “work harder than the guys to paint with them,” says Phina, 41, who grew up in Little Village. “So we were, like, well, that’s not fair.”

An alley jutting out from the main outdoor gallery space includes murals from Splash and another painting event called Meeting of Styles.

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So Bel says she and Phina set out to create “a space of our own.” They found it in 2013 — land near Sacramento Avenue and 26th Street where the walls were either as gray and drab as the Cook County Jail across the street or covered in graffiti.

Since then, the space — which Phina and Bel call “County Walls” because of the proximity to the jail — has been the scene of more than 20 graffiti productions.

How the current alley mural space in Little Village near the Cook County Jail looked before the first Splash event.

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The venue offers something for artists to aspire to, Phina says: “Like, ‘Oh, I wanna get to paint at Splash one day.’ ”

The organizers are open to anyone female-identifying.

Zeye, a Splash artist since 2015, painting an Aztec woman for this year’s Splash, as her sister watches her work.

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Being next to the jail wasn’t intentional, but the artists have found they love creating “color around something that’s so negative,” says Bel, who is 33 and lives in Little Village.

The murals can’t be seen from inside the jail, but jail visitors sometimes pass by, said Bel.

A section of the Mario Brothers wall painted at Splash 2015 by artists Fay, who painted her name, and Lisa Gray, who painted Mario and the background.

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The space is a popular shortcut through the neighborhood. Kids will come by and recognize the characters in the paintings and occasionally have asked the artists to spray-paint their bikes, too.

It creates “positivity, a lot of helping each other out,” Bel says.

The Splash event — one of several group painting gatherings the two organizers hold there every year — happens during the summer, usually over a long weekend.

Over the years, the art has grown from one wall to now stretch over four walls as Bel and Phina got permission from property owners.

The artist Flor paints at far right at Splash 2019.

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Phina and Bel fund the art themselves. They look for discounted paint but “have never got anything for free,” Bel says.

Because of the coronavirus pandemic, this year’s Splash was more restrained than last year’s festivities. Still, it attracted the most artists yet — 19 women, most from Chicago, others from Indianapolis, Detroit and Wisconsin.

Phina and Bel chose unity as this year’s theme, Bel says, “because of all that’s going on.”

Artist Sueño in front of her mural combining the faces of Breonna Taylor and Vanessa Guillén, painted on the cinderblock wall this summer at Splash 2020.

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Bel and Phina decide who paints where.

Making her Splash debut this year, Wisconsin artist Sueño painted images of Vanessa Guillén, the soldier from Fort Hood, Texas, who was killed earlier this year, and Breonna Taylor, the woman killed by Louisville police.

Another artist, who goes only by Jane, came from Indianapolis to paint at Splash for the first time, creating an outer space-style work.

Jane, from Indianapolis, in front of her mural of girls sitting on her name.

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Artist Liz painted her name next to a character in the style of the cartoon Powerpuff Girls saying, “BLM” — Black Lives Matter.

A Powerpuff-girl style character saying, “BLM” — Black Lives Matter — painted by Liz, an artist who joined Splash in 2017.

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Some artists painted words instead of their names, like “PODER” (“power” in Spanish), “Hope” and “One” or friends’ names.

Phina’s section of a wall says “La Unidad Es Poder” — Spanish for “Unity Is Power.”

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Stef, a Humboldt Park artist, wrote “PODER” to “speak to Spanish people in the neighborhood.”

The word “Poder” by artist Stef in her signature botanical style, which pays homage to her Costa Rican heritage with Costa Rica’s traditional floral-painted oxcarts.

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Bel says she painted the word “Hope” in darker colors because she believes hope is often “in your deepest darkest times.”

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“Unity,” painted by Shan, a graffiti artist who has been with Splash since its beginnings.

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Artist Bims, who’s been part of Splash since 2018, painted the name of her friend Atmos, who recently died.

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Gloe, an artist and activist from Little Village, painted “One” — with flowers around it — to signify the unity of people living in Little Village and Lawndale.

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This year also saw Phina’s two daughters — Meleena Monarrez, 15, who goes by Melee for her graffiti, and Jaleela Monarrez, 13, who goes by Jalee — take part for the first time in the painting. They were the youngest participants.

A mural of two women painted by Phina’s daughters Meleena, who goes by Melee, 15, and Jaleela, 13, who goes by Jalee.

Robert Herguth / Sun-Times

The murals typically last around three months before being painted over.

“I think that’s what makes it extra-special,” Bel says.

Bel and Phina also host other artists and events throughout the year, including one last year called Meeting of Styles, an international graffiti gathering. The alley’s metal section is the last strip from 2019’s event.

The alley’s metal wall is the last remaining strip from Meeting of Styles, an international graffiti event held in 2019.

Robert Herguth / Sun-Times

On the brick side of the alley is art by Chea, a Chicago artist, showing a woman’s hair that resembles a doodle on a notebook page.

Robert Herguth / Sun-Times

Yame, whose first Splash was this summer, wrote her name. To the right is a piece by artist Aleon, who also wrote her name.

Robert Herguth / Sun-Times

Phina works on her painting of a doctor for the first Splash in 2014.

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A graffiti piece painted by the artist Zeye, who is from Chicago.

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A piece by Tova, who painted an anime-style character from Splash 2018.

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For Splash 2019, artist Chea painted her name into the ice cream cone held by her girl character.

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The word “Flwr” and a cartoon troll painted by artist Flor, one of Bel’s art students who joined Splash around 2016.

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Bel and Phina hope to expand and are hoping the city’s plans to create the El Paseo bike trail in the area, running from Pilsen to Little Village, perhaps along the railroad right-of-way, won’t stop that.

“We’re hoping that it’s still going to stay a community space,” Bel says.

Click on the map below for a selection of Chicago-area murals

Chicago police step up downtown force ahead of weekend Jacob Blake protests

2020-08-28T11:09:52-05:00

Chicago Police Supt. David Brown (second from left) attends an Aug. 20 press conference in Lawndale.

Pat Nabong/Sun-Times

The Chicago Police Department is preparing for a potential wave of weekend protests in the wake of civil unrest north of the Illinois border, sparked by the Kenosha police shooting of Jacob Blake.

“We are hoping for peaceful protests, but we are preparing if agitators come in,” Chicago Police Supt. David Brown said at a Friday news conference, referring to “embedded agitators” police claim infiltrated city protests last month in order to attack officers.

The department’s new Critical Incident Response team, consisting of about 200 officers, will be deployed downtown. “Arrest teams” outfitted with helmets and shields will enter crowds to arrest alleged “agitators,” Brown said.

The department also conducted its “first of many tabletop exercises” on Thursday night with an emergency safety drill downtown, following two waves of looting in the Loop.

“We will take swift enforcement action” against people “attacking or destroying persons and property,” said Brown.

Amid three months of Chicago protests, demonstrators have criticized “random” violence from police and “kettling” techniques that prevent marching.

Neighborhoods outside the downtown area are being monitored by the department’s new 500-officer Community Safety team.

Immigrants Like Us provides free online legal services on immigration issues

2020-08-25T16:49:37-05:00

Immigrants Like Us helps people fill out complicated immigration forms.

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When Fredy Arce learned his immigration lawyer was doubling her fees to renew his Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals status, Arce decided to shop around.

The 25-year-old Elgin man must renew his DACA status every two years to avoid deportation to Mexico, which he left when he was 1.

And now, besides the basic DACA filing fee of $495, there was that new, higher $400 legal bill.

“It’s crazy to be paying that much,” said Arce, who’s working his way through college without financial aid.

But then his girlfriend found Immigrants Like Us, a nonprofit group, on Facebook. Arce got in touch and, with their free service, renewed his DACA status for just the filing fee. Started by two lawyers, and supported by grants and donations, Immigrants Like Us aims to do “90% of the work that lawyers do,” said co-founder Jonathan Petts.

He compared their approach to online systems for filing tax returns. Immigrants Like Us has a similar automated system to help people complete complicated immigration forms. People answer a series of questions, and the answers are used to generate a completed application.

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Lawyers then review the application for anything that might hinder its approval.

On its website, Immigrants Like Us emphasizes it is not a law firm and does not provide legal advice.

“Our role is to help people fill out their applications and to review [the application] to make sure it looks good,” Petts said.

This means the organization doesn’t need an accredited representative on the team — that is, someone recognized by the Department of Justice as able to provide immigration legal services. Still, Immigrants Like Us plans to hire one.

“Even though it’s not necessary, there’s a prestige benefit,” Petts said. It hasn’t happened yet because “we’re a very small team with limited resources.”

While people can fill out an application on their own, the risk of being declined is high. According to co-founder Ben Jackson, this is often due to small mistakes, such as leaving a box blank instead of putting “N/A.” Jackson said everyone they’ve worked with so far has had their application approved.

Before working with the nonprofit, though, applicants answer a few questions online to spot any complicating factors that would require them to use an immigration lawyer. That includes first-time DACA applicants.

The organization covers naturalization services, DACA renewals and green card applications nationwide, working primarily online.

In July, the Trump administration announced that filing fees for several common immigration applications would be more than doubled, effective Oct. 2. Applying for U.S. citizenship, for example, will cost $1,160, up from $640 — an 81% jump.

Most applicants still must pay standard immigration filing fees, though they could qualify for a fee waiver. Immigrants Like Us can help prepare fee waiver applications and is also building a network of other organizations offering grants.

Arce at first felt “a little out of my comfort zone” submitting the form by himself. Still, he said, the process was quick, and he would use Immigrants Like Us again.

The organization was created in November 2019 by the Boston-based Petts and Jackson, a law school student in Chicago. The two are united in their aim to make parts of their profession redundant through technology.

Immigrants Like Us is partly based on Petts’ experience starting the tech nonprofit Upsolve, which helps people through the often expensive process of filing for bankruptcy.

Both founders aim “as quickly as possible step back and bring immigrants forward,” said Jackson, and build an organization that “reflect[s] the users we’re trying to help.”

In this vein, their director of outreach is Harvard student Fernando Urbina, who was born in Chicago and whose mother emigrated from Mexico.

“She went through a very complicated naturalization process,” Urbina said of his mother.

“I remember she would spend hours studying and on top of that filling out [forms],” said Urbina. This made him realize he wanted “to make sure that these services are as accessible and as streamlined as possible.”

The nonprofit hopes to expand its work to help lawyers working with asylum seekers, as well as people escaping crime or who were brought to the United States through human trafficking.

Immigrants Like Us also provides written resources applicants can use to determine their answers to specific questions, such as how to prove relationship to a half-sibling.

University of Illinois Hospital nurses OK strike over patient loads

2020-08-20T14:24:06-05:00

University of Illinois Hospital

University of Illinois Hospital & Health Sciences System

An overwhelming majority of nurses at University of Illinois Hospital voted to authorize a strike for lower patient loads.

The Illinois Nurses Association said 995 nurses voted in favor of striking if the hospital doesn’t agree to limits on the number of patients under the care of each nurse and hiring more nurses. A strike date hasn’t been set, but nurses must give 10 days notice. The nurses’ three-year contract expires Monday.

“We want management to take the nurses seriously,” Illinois Nurses Association Executive Director Alice J. Johnson said Thursday. “[This is a] contract proposal that will actually save lives.”

In a statement, University of Illinois Hospital CEO Michael Zenn said “we are disappointed” to hear of the strike vote, citing “progress in negotiations.”

But staff nurse Terence Yee, who works in the hospital’s neuroscience intensive care unit, said the hospital management was reluctant to discuss the patient limits and “we basically forced them to have a discussion about it.”

Yee said the strike vote was prompted by COVID measures causing the hospital to shut down units and move nurses around to address the pandemic. “They keep telling us that we are heroes,” said Yee, “[but] during these negotiations, they don’t want to do anything for us.”

Trees: What to do after the storm hits

2020-08-16T14:14:15-05:00

This tree on North Paulina Street in Lake View was split by Monday’s storm.

Andy Boyle/Sun-Times

The ‘derecho’ storm that hit Chicago Monday felled thousands of trees, leaving downed trunks and limbs scattered across yards, streets and sidewalks.

Afterward, 5,600 emergency calls were placed to the city’s Bureau of Forestry, according to Deputy Commissioner of Streets and Sanitation Malcolm Whiteside. The forestry bureau is part of that department.

Many homeowners may still wonder about what’s next — how to remove the trees, what to do about broken limbs still teetering in the branches, how to save damaged trees, or how to replace their favorite maple.

Where does my private land end, and public land begin? And how does this affect how I deal with storm-damaged trees around me?

Although it’s clear the street is public land and your yard is private, the interactions between private and public land and property beyond that get trickier.

The sidewalk and the parkway — that patch of land between the sidewalk and the street— are public land. However, as homeowner, it’s your job to mow the parkway and keep the sidewalk clear (shoveling snow, for instance). But if a tree falls there, you can call 311 to ask the city remove it because the tree is public property.

If a tree growing on your property, like in your yard, falls into a public area, the city would clear the public way but would leave the rest of tree or debris on your property.

If a tree growing on public property, such as in the parkway, falls onto private land or property, then “we’re responsible,” said Whiteside. “That tree is ours.”

And if your tree falls from your yard into a neighbor’s yard, then it’s their job to remove the tree from their yard. And vice versa, if it happens to you.

This tree was uprooted in the 1600 block of West Jarvis Avenue when a severe storm and tornado passed over Rogers Park on Monday.

Mitch Dudek/Sun-Times file

How can I remove fallen trees, branches, or other debris from public land? Who should I call and when?

Contact the Bureau of Forestry if the tree is on public property — either by calling 311 or submitting a service request to them online. If you’re doing it online, there are different forms for different services, and you will also need to make an account so that you can track your request.

What can I do about the detached limbs still hanging from trees?

“Hold tight. We are getting to it,” said forestry bureau spokesperson Cristina Villarreal. Trying to deal with hanging branches or damaged trees yourself can be dangerous or cause more harm if you don’t have the expert training.

Think the city isn’t responding fast enough? It may be because the branch is considered “lower risk.” The city prioritizes hanging branches and similar damage “based on safety concerns,” said Villarreal.

Those priorities are spelled out in the city’s multi-phase response to tree emergencies after a storm:

Moving trees and debris out of streets and into parkways to clear the path for emergency vehicles.
Moving trees and risky dangling limbs away from houses, cars, and sidewalks.
Clearing debris out of the public way, including parkways.
Examining still-standing damaged trees to see which pose a risk and which can be preserved.

How can I tell if a damaged tree can’t be saved?

If the tree in in your own yard, hire a certified arborist, says Melissa Custic, an arborist with the Morton Arboretum. “People don’t realize how dangerous tree care work is,” she said. Also, incorrect pruning can also expose a tree to pathogens and diseases.

In deciding whether a tree needs to be chopped down, said Custic, the city looks at the type of tree, its existing health condition, and how much of its canopy it has lost.

This tree in the 1600 block of West Jarvis Avenue split into several pieces during a severe storm Monday.

Mitch Dudek/Sun-Times

My tree has been removed, and now I’m left with a stump. How can I get rid of it?

The city will grind down stumps on public property; the remaining holes are filled in with wood chips, or by planting another tree.

Removing the stump from your property is your problem.

If there’s a stump in the parkway, you can 311 to file a work order. But public stump removal takes time and requires the proper conditions. Contractors can’t grind stumps in stormy weather or snow, said Whiteside, who oversees the forestry bureau. That means there’s a backlog of stump-removal requests from around the city.

Can I get a new tree to replace the one I lost to the storm?

While the city won’t plant a tree in your yard, you can ask to have a tree planted for free in a parkway— you can fill a request online or call 311.

But reduced funding and resources means that it will take time to plant a new tree, if you file a request through the city. Re-planting a fallen tree in a parkway is not an automatic process, because the city often relies on residents to ask for one. “We understand it’s [city] property,” said Whiteside, “but we want to make sure that somebody ... actually wants the tree.”

Although it’s free for you to request a new tree, each tree costs the city about $500 to plant, said Whiteside.

“Some of these trees [felled in the storm] were planted 30, 40, 50 years ago, and we didn’t have landscape guidelines like we have now,” said Whiteside. That’s why it may take a awhile for the city to decide whether a tree should be replaced, and with what.

However, Custic says that you can try to circumvent any delays by working with non-profits such as Openlands, which gives grants to groups of neighbors interested in planting trees.

Is it legal to plant a tree on public property myself?

No.

A downed tree limb blocks a roadway in Lake View after Monday’s storm,

AP file

Do some neighborhoods have bigger, older trees that might be more susceptible to dying? How can I ensure the old trees in my neighborhood are protected, and will more be planted if they die?

Yes, in some neighborhoods, a majority of the trees are older — but those more mature trees, according to Deputy Commissioner Whiteside, are often less susceptible to storm damage because their bigger, deeper roots make them more stable.

In terms of protection, the Bureau of Forestry has partnered with other groups for the Chicago Region Trees Initiative. The goal is to increase tree conservation and plant more trees. Custic coordinates the initiative. She said neighborhoods with older trees are less of a priority because the city is trying to make up for decades of disinvestment in other areas where fewer trees were planted. The planting policy is outlined on the initiative’s priority map.

I want to apply to plant a new tree. What’s the best tree to plant?

The variety you want may not be best for your neighborhood, depending on the soil. Chicago also wants to diversify its trees, after pests including the Asian longhorned beetle and the emerald ash borer targeted specific types.

“We diversified every block because we don’t want to get hit with another infestation,” said Whiteside. But “we try to give the residents an option,” providing a list of trees that may be suited to residents’ areas.

There is also an Tree Selector Tool created by the Morton Arrboretum that allows you to enter your living details and choose the best tree for your site.

Outdoor Afro seeks ‘Black joy’ by finding sanctuary — and solace — in nature

2020-08-14T12:00:00-05:00

Christine Meissner, in the orange headband, leads a group into the French Canyon of Starved Rock State Park in June 2019.

Provided

Christine Meissner’s favorite moment on the annual Camping 101 trips she leads around Chicago is seeing “people transform over two days.”

The trips, hosted by the Chicago and Northwest Indiana chapter of Outdoor Afro, teach skills such as pitching a tent and making a fire, and “pretty much 100 percent [of] people who come have never camped at all,” she said. But by the end, many are planning their next excursion with their families.

“When I see and hear the transformation in people, then I know they have really made the reconnection to nature,” Meissner, one of three chapter leaders, said in an email.

Outdoor Afro participants go on a six mile hike along the Yellow Trail of the Palos Trail System, part of the Cook County Forest Preserves, in 2017.

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Outdoor Afro, a national nonprofit, aims to connect Black people with nature and cultivate Black leadership outdoors. Chapters around the country organize outdoor activities, including hiking, canoeing, birding, rock-climbing, ice skating, sailing and biking. In the winter, it’s cold-weather experiences, such as snow-shoeing and skiing, or indoor events like archery or a trip to a natural history museum.

Christine Meissner (purple coat) and her Outdoor Afro group take lessons in cross-country skiing at Cook County Forest Preserves’ Camp Sagawau in January 2019.

Provided

Since March, when the coronavirus pandemic shut down most recreational sites across the country, including state and national parks, the group has had to adapt its activities to adhere to COVID-19 restrictions.

“[We] became ‘Indoor Afro,’” Meissner said, as the chapter shifted to offering guided meditations online, focusing on images of nature. Then, as lockdown guidelines were eased, there was socially-distanced yoga in the Beaubien Woods.

“[The events] were really powerful actually,” Meissner said, referring to the “therapeutic properties” of nature in the face of national turmoil.

Although Meissner usually sees new participants at every event, the group she leads has seen interest in membership grow even more as the spotlight from anti-racism protests nationwide has heightened attention on Black-led organizations.

Despite this new attention, Outdoor Afro and its goals are not new, said the organization’s communications director, Yanira Castro.

“The point [has always been] Black joy, and having that space. There’s just more people who are interested.”

Four Outdoor Afro team members looking out in awe at the Wildcat canyon in Starved Rock State Park, one of the four canyons they passed on a five mile hike in 2018.

Provided

The national organization began in 2009 as a blog and Facebook page created by Bay Area outdoors-lover Rue Mapp, who wanted to make the outdoors a welcoming space for Black people after she saw few other Black people on her hikes and camping trips.

Now the group has chapters in 30 states, with 90 leaders nationwide — Chicago is the group’s third largest network, according to Meissner, and currently has three leaders in the area.

Its predominantly Black membership of all ages reflects the opposite of the stereotypical portrait of an outdoorsy type. “If you conjured up an image of what an outdoors person looks like, [it’s] usually a white dude in his 20s,” said Castro.

Historically, though, Black people have had a long relationship with nature that has been stymied by racism and violence, said Naomi Davis, founder of the environmental advocacy organization Blacks in Green.

The skills Africans had as craftspeople and crop growers were “exploited” after they were enslaved and brought to America, said Davis. But some Black communities resisted this by forming Maroon communities consisting largely of escaped slaves, who “lived 100 percent on, in, of, and by the land,” said Davis.

Later, she said, Black landowners also had their land stolen in a variety of ways, by the Ku Klux Klan and by county officers through legal methods. Then came the Great Migration, when African Americans moved up North and left their land due to racist Jim Crow laws.

The idea that “the threat was so real that you would walk away and leave your land is a hard concept to understand unless you’ve ever seen a person lynched and set on fire, for fun,” said Davis.

Oboi Reed, president and CEO of Chicago nonprofit Equiticity, which advocates for racial equality in transportation, said, “After slavery, there was Jim Crow, there was redlining, restrictive covenants, disinvestment, racial profiling through police.”

These cause issues of safety that have sometimes stopped Black people from adventuring outdoors, said Reed — including police harassment, and worry about “forest officers accosting you because you don’t look like you belong,” said Reed.

“Why Outdoor Afro is so important is it helps Black people to come to grips with their human right to explore nature.”

By taking explorations together, Outdoor Afro provides a group that people can join to feel safe, and if they want, to become leaders or teach their families and friends in what Meissner called a “multiplying effect.”

“When people start to see themselves reflected outside, they feel more comfortable,” said Meissner. “We’re creating a network like a family.”

Christine Meissner (second from left) and three other Outdoor Afro leaders during a water break at Starved Rock State Park’s LaSalle Canyon in 2018.

Provided

Meissner, who has been a Chicago leader for four years, started as a participant because she wanted to find community. “I had done a lot of camping and I was always the only Black person,” she said. She also wanted to take “ownership” of her experience with nature, and learn skills that would help her feel confident exploring the outdoors independently.

After the first event, she knew immediately that “this is my group, I’m going to be part of this for long time.”

The chapter Meissner leads is set to host a Healing Hike on Aug. 23 at the Fort Sheridan Forest Preserve. Healing Hikes began when Michael Brown, an 18-year-old Black man, was shot to death in Ferguson, Missouri, in 2016— the hikes gave people a space for solace by “get[ting] together and hav[ing] those deep emotions,” said Castro.

The biggest turnout Christine Meissner has seen of 50 people in LaSalle Canyon. She led the group with other leaders on a hike in Starved Rock State Park in 2018.

Provided

Most Outdoor Afro activities are free or as low-cost as possible to allow open access. And the group’s membership is not exclusive — one of the group’s sayings, Castro pointed out, is, “You don’t have to have an afro to be an outdoor afro.”

However, said Castro, other participants must have “the understanding that these events are centered around Black folks.”

Outdoor Afro’s Chicago chapter mainly organizes events through MeetUp but also posts about its activities and advice in its Facebook group.

Chicago murals: Miguel Del Real draws on Native American, Mexican art, calligraphy

2020-08-14T11:00:00-05:00

Miguel Del Real works on the mural “Community Diligence,” painted for the Oso Apartments, an affordable housing development at 3435 W. Montrose Ave. in Albany Park.

Provided

The mural that Miguel Del Real painted in 2018 on the site of an old Goldblatt’s department store in the 1600 block of West Chicago Avenue is titled “Embracing Life.”

Chicago’s murals and mosaics sidebar

Chicago’s murals & mosaics

Part of a series on public art in the city and suburbs. More murals are added every week.

His biggest work, he says it draws on his main inspirations: old English calligraphy, Native American art and the Mexican art of his ancestors.

There are calligraphic flicks in the hummingbird’s wings. The woman’s shirt resembles a huipil — a woven tunic from Mexico and Central America.

Miguel Del Real’s three-story mural “Embracing Life,” painted in 2018 on a former Goldblatt’s department store near Chicago and Ashland avenues.

Robert Herguth / Sun-Times

Del Real sees the woman as “this deity-ish, Mother Nature-type figure” but says he’s not religious.

“I’m more speaking to this connectedness that I believe exists,” he says.

The 35-year-old muralist and graffiti artist calls his work “a buffet of what I was exposed to” growing up. He grew up in Little Village, went to school in Pilsen and now lives in Pilsen.

“Humanidad,” a mural Miguel Del Real painted for The 606 / Bloomingdale Trail’s 2016 opening, can be seen at Sawyer and Bloomingdale avenues.

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He says the colors in his murals are inspired by his family’s home, decorated with his mother’s embroidered cloth coverings.

“You don’t really pay attention to what people of your culture created, or create, until you start composing your own art,” Del Real says.

Miguel Del Real titled this mural, painted in Oaxaca, Mexico, “Soledad” after his maternal grandmother.

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He works in spray paint — influenced by the graffiti he’d walk past every day in his neighborhood. He saw gang members tag their names on walls in elaborate lettering resembling old English calligraphy.

But he says he didn’t want to be involved in gangs or anything they represented. Art, he says, was his alternative “rite of passage.”

Miguel Del Real’s 2011 mural at 4210 W. 26th St. in Little Village, titled “Calligraffiti,” shows his use of calligraphy in a graffiti style.

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“There was risk,” he says, “in painting and trying to achieve different locations.”

Gang members would sometimes “assume that I was a gangbanger from [my] neighborhood,” he says.

So Del Real would work with other artists and say, “I’m here to paint with so-and-so, trying to make this neighborhood look pretty.”

Among those group efforts is a mural painted on an underpass at 7391 N. Rogers Ave., done with graffiti artists including Track from the crew CAB 312.

This mural was painted by Miguel Del Real and other artists including graffiti artist Track of the crew CAB 312 at an underpass at 7391 N. Rogers Ave.

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“He had his own unique styles,” Track says of Del Real. “Aztec, indigenous — at the time, he was the only one pretty much doing that.”

Del Real discovered indigenous art as a fifth-grader at what’s now Orozco Community Academy. He saw similarities in the lines used in Tlingit tribal art from the Pacific Northwest and the gang tags in his neighborhood.

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But the similarities stopped there. He says that, with gangs, “It’s all about selfishness, completely about power.” With the Native American teachings, he said, “it’s, like, OK, if you have something, what can I add to it?”

Miguel Del Real painted this mural, titled “Community Diligence,” in the entrance of an affordable housing development in Albany Park. It depicts insects working together, signifying community collaboration.

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Del Real first worked on a mural at 16 with the arts outreach program Yollocalli.

“Yollocalli and school helped me take the skills I got from graffiti and turn it into something more meaningful,” he says.

Graffiti centered around “the ego,” he says. “Like, look at what I can do and what my friends can do. When you paint something for the community, you’re making it something more inclusive than exclusive.”

After high school, Del Real bounced between several colleges before enrolling at Northeastern Illinois University and earning a bachelor of fine arts degree.

Today, Del Real works on commissions and teaches part-time at the not-for-profit arts organization Marwen, saying he likes “passing on what you know to the next generation.”

A mural Miguel Del Real painted for the gym at Back of the Yards non-profit Port Ministries at 5013 S. Hermitage Ave., where after-school activities are held. He says his aim was to “keep the energy flowing through that space.”

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One of his Marwen students, Ruby Williams, 17, says Del Real has given her “a real appreciation and understanding for any street art I see.”

Del Real says he’s painted around 15 murals and 15 graffiti pieces in Chicago and done murals in New York City and Santa Clarita, Calif., and several in Oaxaca, Mexico.

Miguel Del Real in front of his “Star Gate” mural at the Adler Planetarium.

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His work in Chicago includes a mural he did for the Adler Planetarium. Orilla Fetro, a designer at the lakefront museum, says Del Real’s aim of connecting people with his art was in line with the planetarium’s mission to “tie people to the sky, no matter where they’re from.”

Click on the map below for a selection of Chicago-area murals

Apsáalooke exhibition at Field Museum avoids stereotypes, shows ‘Native Americans are still here.’

2020-08-11T09:00:00-05:00

Curator Nina Sanders, second from the right, worked with other cultural teachers to create “Apsáalooke Women and Warriors.”

The atrocities committed against indigenous people by white settlers are being acknowledged in Chicago and across the country, but the “Apsáalooke Women and Warriors” exhibit at the Field Museum isn’t about that.

“We’re looking at resilience,” said its curator, Apsáalooke scholar Nina Sanders (or Akbileoosh/Brings the Water, her name in the tribe’s Crow language). Rather than focusing on indigenous suffering, she said, “you’re sort of immersed in art and narrative and music.”

Untitled

‘Apsáalooke Women and Warriors’

• Through April 4, 2021

• Field Museum of Natural History, 1400 S. Lake Shore Dr.

• fieldmuseum.org

The exhibit is an exuberant display of Apsáalooke life and culture, both past and present. Ancestral historical artifacts are placed alongside new art by contemporary Apsáalooke creators, some of which was created specifically for the exhibit and includes sculpture, paintings, photography, beadwork, fashion and rap music.

But the exhibit also has a deeply reflective note, which can be chalked up to Sanders’ overriding ambition to “kick down doors” and step away from stereotypes.

Part of this is in response to how indigenous belongings and history have been treated in the past — the idea for the exhibit arose alongside plans to renovate the Field Museum’s previous Native American collection, which hadn’t been updated since 1950 and was, in Sanders’ words, “incredibly racist.”

Sanders came in as an indigenous advisor when the Field Museum was working with the University of Chicago on the Open Fields project, which pushed to change how Native historical objects are presented in museums.

An Apsáalooke shield.

Field Museum

“Conversation led to [people asking me], ‘What would you do, what would an exhibition look like to you?,’ ” said Sanders. The result was “Apsáalooke Women and Warriors,” the museum’s first large-scale exhibition curated by a Native American.

Running at the Field until April 4, 2021, the exhibit documents the history of the Apsáalooke, a Native American Plains tribe based in southern Montana. Sanders grew up on the Apsáalooke reservation speaking Crow as her first language, and the exhibition is told from her point of view through labels introducing each object.

Although Sanders said she has been generating this exhibit “my whole life,” it was also the result of work done with 18 Apsáalooke scholars, activists and creatives.

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The exhibit is organized so that visitors walk around each section clockwise, following the journey of the Apsáalooke tribe.

“Clockwise represents renewal, life and birth,” said Sanders. “Sort of like the transition[s] of life.”

The exhibit starts with the creation story, shown in cartoon form on a screen at the start of the exhibit, that is followed by a section telling the story of migration and the Apsáalooke people’s search for meaning, which then expands into their “self-actualization,” followed by successes and spirituality represented by objects such as the war shields and war bonnet.

Along with telling the history of the Apsáalooke tribe, Sanders wanted to break down stereotypes about indigenous people. The feathered war bonnet is captioned “Not a Costume,” and the sacred shields are watched over by imposing black-and-white portraits of Apsáalooke women, as was traditionally done.

“Wherein Lies the Beauty of Life,” a painting of an indigenous woman by Apsáalooke artist and activist Ben Pease.

Provided

The exhibit also examines gender roles.

“We’re an egalitarian society,” said Sanders. This point is made clear in the very beginning, with a TV screen to the left of the entrance showing a cartoon of the Apsáalooke creation story narrated in Crow, which Sanders described as “the part that’s most important to me.” The cartoon shows that “women are equal to men, we were created at the same time,” said Sanders.

There is also an LGBTQ section that focuses on Apsáalooke views of gender — it centers around Finds Them and Kills Them/Ohchiish, an Apsáalooke person who identified as “batée,” which is taken to mean transgender or gender-nonconforming.

Finds Them and Kills Them/Ohchiish (left), an Apsáalooke individual who identified as gender-nonconforming.

“Apsáalooke Women and Warriors” catalogue

Another misconception that the exhibit addresses is how indigenous people are often seen as a relic of the past.

“Native Americans are still here [but] a lot of people don’t think that we still exist,” said Sanders’ relative Elias Not Afraid (Crow name Outstanding Young Man/Iisáaksh Xíassaash), an artist whose beadwork is exhibited alongside those made by his ancestors.

A beaded mirror bag with spikes made by Elias Not Afraid, an Arizona-based beadwork artist and relative of curator Nina Sanders.

“Apsáalooke Women and Warriors” catalogue

Sanders deliberately chose her relatives and friends to contribute to the exhibit. “It’s my duty to my people to lift up our visual arts,” she said, adding that “over all of the [contemporary] contributors, we only had three people, I think, who were over the age of 35.”

Among the works by young Apsáalooke artists are paintings and a sculpture by artist and activist Ben Pease (Crow name Steals the Guns from Two Enemy Camps/Aashdúuptakò Ishtaxxía Dúutchish), and music by Native artist Supaman, whose rap songs play overhead as the exhibit’s soundtrack.

The exhibit also intends to prompt questions about ownership.

Artist and activist Pease, who engaged in conversations around the creation of the exhibit, said it redefines “how institutional entities build relationships with indigenous communities,” and forces people to question what should be on display and how things should be displayed.

According to Sanders, this question extended to fragile historical objects that — according to the science of conservation — might be ruined by being displayed.

“There were places where we had to take controlled risks,” she said, when it came down to making sure that significant objects that highlighted important parts of her tribe’s history were seen.

The exhibit is also for indigenous people, said Sanders.

“It helps for Native people to participate in a healing process,” said Sanders. “I personally would like for an indigenous child to imagine themselves curating an exhibition, or talking about what a war bonnet means to them and how it should be properly used.”

Activists propose $100 million more for housing the homeless during vigil for man stabbed in Grant Park

2020-08-05T18:38:41-05:00

Ashlee Rezin Garcia/Sun-Times

Activists Wednesday said the city should spend $100 million more on creating housing for the homeless during a virtual vigil honoring Aaron Curry, who was found stabbed to death last month in Grant Park.

The funds are desperately needed following recent attacks around the city on homeless encampments and residents like Curry, organizers of Wednesday’s Zoom call said.

RauQuaia Hale-Wallace, a Chicago Coalition for the Homeless organizer, spoke of the need for “safety for homeless people” and to “significantly increase money dedicated to housing.”

Vigil participants, who lit candles during the call, also highlighted recent fires at encampments on the Northwest Side that some suspect were arson.

“Homeless people are being shot. ... Our tents are being burned. And no one seems to care,” said Tom Gordon, a resident of the Uptown Tent City.

Many in the homeless community choose not to stay in shelters because “we have to worry about bugs [and] our stuff being stolen,” Gordon said.

Permanent supportive housing is the only way to “guarantee safety for all Chicagoans,” Hale-Wallace said.

To raise the $100 million, Mary Tarullo, the associate director of policy at the Chicago Coalition for the Homeless, proposed “tax[ing] the wealthy by altering the real estate transfer tax.”

But Tarullo said that the coalition is “open to talking with [Mayor Lori Lightfoot] about other ways to create a dedicated revenue stream to address homelessness. The group has introduced proposals to the city in the past and is currently discussing “plans for a renewed campaign,” Tarullo added.

With the coronavirus pandemic causing an increase in unemployment and evictions, more homelessness is expected, Ald. Carlos Ramirez-Rosa (35th) said during the vigil.

“If we don’t see any type of real relief to renters, we know that we’re going to see an avalanche of evictions,” the alderman said.

Others who organized and spoke at the vigil included members of Heartland Health Outreach, Logan Square Ecumenical Association and Logan Square Neighborhood Association.

As for Curry, Jill Keiser, of the social service organization Chicago Lights, said the 58-year-old frequently brought others with him to the non-profit.

“I considered him our best PR person,” she said.