I grew up in Little Village for the first nine years of my life, but then my family moved to Brighton Park, where we still reside. I haven’t lived in Little Village in years, and I don’t go as often as I used to, but people should know it is an incredibly culturally rich area, with so many incredible spots to visit.
It is being steadily gentrified, which is disheartening, but 26th Street remains the second largest income generator in all of Chicago, besides Michigan Avenue. That demonstrates just how many people rely on the businesses that make up Little Village, and how community-oriented the people are. Though there does remain neighborhood violence, that can be said for many other places in Chicago, and I would still advocate for Little Village as a historically and culturally important community of this city.
In my memories of living there, I recall being very close with my neighbors. We had block parties every summer, every couple of weeks or every month. The entire street would gather to prepare food and offer activities and games for the kids to enjoy. It was a collaborative event that filled my summers with joy and friendship. I hardly spent any time indoors–being outside was where all the fun was.
Even more so than my time in Brighton Park, Little Village is where my formative childhood years were, and I’ll always cherish those days.
This essay is one in a series of Columbia College students’ reflections on how class and race put a mark on where they grew up. They answered these questions: What should people know about the place where I grew up in? What are the stories I tell about my life there?
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