The South Side of Chicago is one of America’s most publicized and least understood places. It is arguably the country’s largest and culturally richest African-American community. It is also at the center of Chicago’s current epidemic of gun violence. It is the home of Barack and Michelle Obama, and it is disappearing, with disinvestment and a mass exodus of its population.
For the two decades that I’ve made the South Side my home, I’ve documented life there—through photographs and moving images, through oral histories and found ephemera. During this time, I have witnessed the systematic and ongoing deconstruction of many South Side’s communities, along with the ensuing struggle by residents there to maintain order.
My own understanding of and passion for the South Side has deepened and evolved over time. Most days I love this place more than anywhere else in the world. Yet there are times when the South Side breaks my heart. Chicagoans who live elsewhere generally don’t visit the South Side; they have been conditioned to fear the community in light of headlines—and tweets from President Trump—that depict a “hell” of unyielding violence. The same is true of other shunned neighborhoods across the United States. But it is vital to understand the South Side and communities like it in all their complexity—in the fullness of their need and beauty and resilience. That is also how the country as a whole comes to better understand itself.