Mapping Memory: The Neighborhood That Raised Me

America has tried so hard to paint a bleak and hopeless picture of black communities. The narrative at the time in which I grew up in the nineties and two thousands, centered on gun violence and drugs; Poverty, lack of education, and poor outcomes. And although these were very real issues of the time, my childhood memories are rich with so much more. I often wonder about my experience compared to the statistical realities of neighborhoods like mine.

I like to think that my experience is pretty typical for that time. But I’m not so sure. Maywood is a small village not far from the Chicago city limits. When I grew up there, it was majority black, lower-middle class, and it had its issues. But there was definitely a solid sense of community.

Memory

When I think of my childhood, I think of sidewalk chalk and hopscotch. Playing double dutch with my cousin and other kids in the neighborhood. Riding my bike with friends up the prairie path to get a slice from Nick’s Pizzeria. I think of Kiddie Land. I remember hot pickles in sandwich bags from the corner store, playing basketball in my backyard with all the boys from school who lived near me. My memory is filled with books – countless hours in my own world, reading in some private nook or cranny.

I remember being funneled through gifted programs, an effort on the school district’s part to nurture students who were enthusiastic about learning. A chance to get us out of the general chaos and babysitting that most classrooms had become. I remember a handful of amazing teachers who shaped my life. 

I remember speech team competitions at rich white schools, being awed (and angered) by their facilities and resources. In my mind’s eye I see humble houses on my quiet street with neatly kept yards. I remember D.A.R.E. I remember parks with gigantic, rusty metal structures to play on, fun but dangerous and unforgiving in the hot sun. 

Still, I can taste pizza puffs and brown bags of fries with mild sauce after school, eaten with a fork on a cold day. I think of the crackheads and drunks who stumbled around the neighborhood, making me feel anxious and afraid as I walked to and from school. I remember gunshots and my mom telling me to come in the house when the older kids got out of school. 

The prospects for a bigger life, say through building generational wealth or exploring the world weren’t great. But the circle of people that I came up with seem to have done alright for themselves. So what’s real?

What the Data Says: Black Communities vs. White

What’s real is that I don’t know if Maywood had particularly better outcomes for its residents or if I just got lucky to have a great group of smart, motivated friends. I looked at 2000 census data for Cook County, labeled census tracts within eight other villages and neighborhoods, some majority black and some majority white. And this is what I do know:

• When looking at the sample of black communities in Chicago that have a comparable demographic makeup by race, Maywood has the highest median household income, highest rate of employment, and the highest percentage of owner-occupancy housing among them

• When looking at the sample of neighborhoods in Chicago that have opposite demographic makeup (majority white), Maywood has a comparable percentage of its population whose highest education attainment is high school, yet the proportion of folks with a bachelor’s degree is comparatively lower. It also has lower owner occupancy housing rates and employed rates.

• Maywood has turned out 10 NBA draft picks since the 1970s…I took AP Chemistry with one of them 🙂
• The village is surrounded by incredibly wealthy white suburbs, with whom there is a good amount of interaction and competition between schools 

The Space Between

After I went away to college, I never came to live in Maywood again. My mom had moved away to be closer to family and so I never had a reason to. None of my close circle of friends from that time live there now either. They are off being and growing in the world. So maybe that’s part of the story. The ones that make it tend to leave. 

I know that I came up in a time and in retrospect, a place that feels special to me now. There was a mix of grit and wholesomeness. I know that if you look at this place with the goal to measure success or goodness, you may come up short. Especially when compared to neighborhoods that are not majority black. But the data show that Maywood had some clear things working for it.

Many people lived in houses they owned instead of rented. Household incomes and employment rates were slightly below the national median, but not drastically below it like so many other black communities. Folks may not have gone on to achieve standard levels of higher education or incomes on par with that of white America. But people worked hard, tended to homes they owned, and looked out for one another. They had just a little bit more than the average black neighborhood and exposure to a slightly wider world. Which in turn helped to foster the space that nurtured me.

The village has changed a lot. Now, although still majority black, around 33% of the residents are Latino. And I imagine that these people will build their own memories, some sweet and some bitter, just like I did. And I hope that the positive things that the data called out when I grew up continue to be things that shore up this community and provide the platform for its youth to move on to bigger and better things, all while carrying those memories with them. I just wonder what the data will say then.

Data Sources

Steven Manson, Jonathan Schroeder, David Van Riper, Katherine Knowles, Tracy Kugler, Finn Roberts, and Steven Ruggles.
IPUMS National Historical Geographic Information System: Version 19.0
[dataset]. Minneapolis, MN: IPUMS. 2024.
http://doi.org/10.18128/D050.V19.0