Diversity and what Berwyn could be

Since returning, I've beens surprised by the ethnic diversity of this area. When my family moved to Berwyn from Idaho about 20 years ago, all of my friends were Polish, Italian, or Irish. My friends all talked with fake, Chicago Italian thug accents (Hey dere youse guys - wanna go to da Jewel?). They would make fun of my Idaho accent (Yes, if you are from Chicago, then there is an Idaho accent. Conversely, if you are from Idaho, then there is a distinct Chicago accent. That's how differentiation works.). It took my 8th grade self all of two weeks to adopt the local lingo and to rat my bangs high and higher, mostly out of self-preservation. I talked like a third-rate mobster-actor for the next two years, when it suddenly occurred to me that I just sounded......stupid. I dropped the fake accent (but kept the high hair - for another few years) and learned to just talk like me. But I must have picked up some mixed language patterns, because now I get asked all the time where I'm from as soon as I open my mouth. I've identified the following words as apparent oddities: accent, trash, Al (as in Albert). They aren't quite "a" enough ("a" as in cat, hat, bat) for Chicagoans; they come out more like "ah" (as in father). The vowel isn't precisely "ah" either, but it sounds that way to Chicagoans. I also enunciate really, really clearly, which seems to confuse people. Americans in general aren't exactly in the habit of speaking clearly. They can't seem to understand why I'm so easy to understand (so to speak), I guess. At any rate, I learned proper enunciation from theatre, which then became solidified after years of teaching pronunciation primarily to Chinese, Korean, and Mexican students.

In high school, one encountered names like, "Przybulski" (the cheerleader triplets), "Isryzycki" (Mr. I - the math teacher - I'm pretty sure I've spelled his name wrong), "Fiore" (the Italian flower - my chem partner), "Salerno" (the English teacher). You wore dago-tees (instead of tank tops) and fiercely observed St. Paddy's Day. There was not a single black student and Asians were rare. In classes, there was an uneasy truce between the smattering of hispanics (who tended to band together) and the rest of the WASPs. When we went out to eat, you could choose Italian (Salerno's Pizza, Giovannis, Buona Beef) or Bohemian (Little Bohemia, Riverside Restaurant, Czech Plaza). If you wanted to sneak into a bar, everyone knew you hit Frank's Place, Frank O'Malleys Irish joint (which is not actually in Berwyn), which was cheerily pasted with posters of the green hills of Ireland.

Berwyn is different now - different and better. Sure, they still look largely like a bunch of uneducated yahoos (If you wish to refute this, then I suggest you talk a walk - as I did recently - past the mass of Berwynite humanity streaming into the Italian Fest on a hot summer's eve, tromping along in their triple-oversized sports jerseys and their machomacho walks; women straining at the seams of their size 24 stretchy cropped pants and flourescent sports bras under white strappy tank tops. Or, walk into North Riverside Mall. I dare you.), but there is a liveliness here now, a hint of potential, a hope of what may come, and I attribute that, at least partially, to the flux of newbies transforming the neighborhood.

In schools this year, I tried to impress the kids with my tenure at a high-achieving international school. They had some interest, but any glance at local classrooms will show a small united nations right here in Berwyn. There's a kid from Thailand who lives across the street. There's a Palestinian girl who wears a headscarf. Kids are from Mexico, Honduras, Guatemala, Puerto Rico, Poland, Russia, Indonesia, Korea, Pakistan. There is a growing number of black students, many of whom have just escaped the now-defunct housing projects. We sit at a table in an art class, exchanging lively banter on strange foods I've eaten in China, music, autism, and Michelle Obama's latest fashion pick.

Walk down the street, you'll see the same: the Indian woman in her sari, waiting for a bus on Harlem; the young Chinese couple at the Redbox, chattering loudly in Hanyu. Nor is it just an issue of ethnicity - there's also a small but steady trickle of much-needed individuals who are educated, who think freely, and who have life experiences outside of Berwyn, Stickney and a brief stint at Morton College. My neighbors (two doors down) lived happily in Lakeview for years, but they moved here two years ago because they wanted an affordable yard that was still close to their Loop jobs. I found a blog post from an elderly gay Northwestern professor who was looking for a quieter neighborhood and I was surprised that he was directed to Berwyn by a fellow blogger. I hope he considers it.

Mind you, not that I'm trying to force a "bigger and better" swap of Berwyn's singular eccentricities for a neatly uniform upper middle class neighborhood. I like Berwyn's oddities. I glory in the XXL sweatpant brigade. I'm sad that the Spindle is now a Walgreens. And for those of you with a slightly longer memory: I miss eating french fries at the Woolworths counter at the plaza; I miss buying candy from Jakovich's neighborhood store; I liked $1 cheap movies at the Olympic. Okay, now this is becoming a maudlin trip down memory lane. My point is that Berwyn used to just be dumpy, downtrodden, poor, hardscrabble, and a place from which one escaped. Which I did. For a decade. And I hadn't intended to come back. But here I am and I think the return is fortuitous. Berwyn has some potential. It doesn't need to change, in terms of breadth, it just needs some depth, so to speak. It needs rich layers of ethnicities, income, education, and life experience, instead of the usual broad plain of sameness. And those layers need to be interspersed and varied, instead of developing the usual hierarchy (which in my opinion, has occurred in many Chicago neighborhoods - too gentrified, too yuppie, too samey-samey rich).

In addition, the individuals need to interact across layers on a daily basis, which is what neighborhood living is all about. There need to be more businesses, both upscale and humble, so that people don't need to leave the neighborhood to get their needs met. There should be a Trader Joes, along with La Familia, the Berwyn Fruit Market and Jewel. There should be more nice neighborhood bars, like Fitzgeralds, that offer Fat Tire drafts along with the bottles of Old Style light. Why are there no charming upscale restaurants with sidewalk seating? Why isn't there a single coffee shop where I can work online while sipping a cuppa (Wait, there's one by Macneal - Common Grounds)? And while we're at it, why aren't there sidewalk stands? I'd like to buy a tamale from a slow-moving pushcart along Cermak for $1.25. And don't ever chase away my Gina's Italian Ice. I think about her lemon ice all winter. I WANT a Hell's Angels neighbor, like the one I've got, to chat with over the fence. And the elderly retired school administrator to make suggestions about the rotary club. I want to exchange vegetables in the summer with the guy munching on Japanese pastries and to sip wine with the Mexican artists.

Berwyn should become more like, well, Oak Park maybe (I'll have to think about that more). There are some really big beautiful homes in South Berwyn, along Riverside Drive and around Proksa Park. And if only Berwyn Bungalows with their unique stained glass windows, would become coveted.

Finally, there needs to be a culture shift. Everything should be walkable. Stop driving so much. Walk places. Bike places. Ride the bus. It's good for you.

Anyhow, I'm seeing good changes and I'm developing all of my favorite haunts. I get most of my needs met here and I can easily go elsewhere when I need to. Berwyn is slowly developing those deep layers. Keep it up.