Chatham Kids Were Just Being Kids as Society Created Wedges
A Childhood of Joy and Wonder
It was a Saturday evening in September 1959. I was in the basement of our raised ranch on South Wabash Avenue in Chatham. I came upstairs, sore but satisfied. I was home from morning ballet at the Mildred B. Haessler dance school, devoted to practicing my five positions.
My parents, Ann and Andrew, might have been whispering about political issues, such as protests, sit-ins, or white flight. But their conversation always changed when I entered the room. The talk turned upbeat. They raved about the opening of Mr. Gray’s Cleaners; Lula’s son, Jack, the architect; and Charles, the doctor from Howard University. Quinnies’ Beauty Shop was doing a booming business. Dad got promoted at CTA. And, of course, my mother’s first-grade students were amazing! As a young kid, I lived among the happiest and most-accomplished people in the world.
A World of Wonder at Hookway Elementary
The bar was high. The weekend gave way to Monday. Time for school! The Chicago Public School district had drawn an attendance line down Michigan Avenue, so several other children and I walked west across 83rd Street and old Dearborn Avenue, unaware that it would be the Dan Ryan Expressway in three years.
I arrived early and excited at Hookway Elementary School at West 81st and South La Salle streets, where I was one of a minority of Black children in a fourth-grade class of 30 baby boomers. The Black kids were me, Mary, Anthony, Henry, Kenny, and Donald. Mary was sweet, but we both ignored the boys. Boys were “icky.”
I had happy times in school. I was a good student who loved learning and enjoyed my classmates. On the playground before school, at recess, and even during class, I had a ball. I scooped jacks, jumped rope, and played tag with my wonderful new friends.
Our crew consisted of me; G.G., a German girl with waist-long braids; frilly Francine of French descent; Nickie of Greek descent with jet black hair; and cinnamon-freckled Mary, who lived a block from the school. Then there was my favorite, sandy-blond T from Ala-baaa-ma. We all used the stretched out “a,” as she insisted.
Most West Chatham families had jobs in meatpacking and factory work. Nickie loved to bring us all extra ham for our lunch. She also brought interesting fruits, like her grandma’s pomegranates and dates. We all feasted on Nickie’s contributions, then went back to jumping rope until the bell forced us inside.
A Shift in Demographics
Andrea Sanders’ elementary school class at Hookway in 1963 was majority Black, a major shift in demographic makeup from four years earlier. Sanders is in the third row from the bottom, seventh from the left.
Then, in her Southern drawl, T said, never looking up from her coloring: “You know what, Andrea?”
“What?” I asked.
“Me and my family, we’re moving to Ala-baaa-ma.”
“When?” I asked.
“Oh, real soon. We got to get away from these … n——. I hate n——, don’t you?”
I paused, picked up my crayon, wrinkled my brow, and, without a clue, I answered, “Yeah!”
“Come on T, let’s make this horse’s mane purple!”
I graduated from Hookway Elementary four years later in June 1963. There were three white students in a class of 90.
Conclusion
As I look back on my childhood in West Chatham, I realize that my friends and I were just being kids, unaware of the societal forces that would soon create divisions and wedges between us. We were too busy having fun, making memories, and exploring our world to worry about the challenges that lay ahead.
FAQs
* What was the demographic makeup of the author’s elementary school class in 1959?
The author was one of a minority of Black students in a class of 30.
* What were some of the author’s favorite activities in school?
The author enjoyed playing games like jacks and jump rope, and making friends with her classmates.
* What was the author’s experience like when her friend T announced she was moving to Alabama?
The author was caught off guard and didn’t fully understand the implications of T’s decision to move away.
