This summer, our fellowship team is reporting on the Southwest Side neighborhood and its relationship with industrial polluters

By Leslie Hurtado, Gerardo Flores, Ata Younan and Sebastián Hidalgo

A person waits for the train to pass on Pulaski Road, near Exchange 55, a mega distribution center in Little Village. (Sebastián Hidalgo/City Bureau)

A person waits for the train to pass on Pulaski Road, near Exchange 55, a mega distribution center in Little Village. (Sebastián Hidalgo/City Bureau)

When you look at a map of Chicago, Little Village is often highlighted in deep red tones—showing that the Southwest Side neighborhood is an epicenter for the city’s deep rooted disparities in measures such as poor air quality, lack of trees and premature death rate, among other social challenges. For decades, many residents have seen these issues as the result of public disinvestment and disregard for what community members say they need to thrive––public spaces where kids can be kids, quality schools, accessible information and jobs.

This summer, a team of City Bureau fellows is talking to Little Village residents about how they’ve been impacted by air pollution and economic disinvestment, as well as the creative solutions that emerge when politicians and powerful institutions fall short. We spoke to three longtime residents who stood out to us as neighborhood caregivers who want Little Village to be known as more than just a shaded area on a map. Each has struggled with their own health problems stemming from poor air quality, while finding their own ways to support their families and their community.

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Gabrielle Ibarra, 37

Ibarra remembers developing respiratory issues while growing up in Little Village. He lives with his mother, Natividad, whose eyes recently became so irritated by air pollution that she could barely see. Ibarra supports his family as a manager at a manufacturing logistics center near Midway Airport. 

Do you or a member of your household have a history of asthma or other respiratory issues?

As a kid, I used to use the inhaler. Like I said, I was born and raised here. I remember there was oil everywhere and grease. There was a company where the park is now, and they came and dug up my whole yard because it was polluted. Now I'm very sensitive to my eyes. Like, I'm constantly crying, cleaning my eyes because I like sitting out here [with the air pollution]. We are always outside, and you do feel a little roughness in the throat, coughing, or maybe even breathing a little bit heavier. 

Have you or a member of your household developed any respiratory issues since April 2020? 

I already know [my mom] suffers from her eyes. She's like, “You know what, I think it started when they started demolishing the wall.” Once they started demolishing the [Cook County Jail] building—holy crap! Last week, Saturday and Sunday, there was just a cloud of smoke everywhere. 

If someone asked you what your experiences were like during 2020 what would you tell them? 

We're brainwashed to say, “Oh, well, you're lucky that you worked through [the pandemic].” But am I lucky that I worked so hard at my job that I put my life in danger? I live with my parents. They're sick. I could have brought [the virus] back to them. I just felt a mix of emotions. Yes, I am happy that I worked through it but upset that I had to. It comes down to our aldermen, our government [to keep us safe]. I need them to do better at their jobs to inform us. They only come out when it’s election season or during Christmas and Thanksgiving, not when we need them the most. 

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Maribel Lemus, 38

Lemus is a mother of two who has lived on 25th Street for 15 years. She grew up visiting the beaches of the Caribbean, where she found reason to care for the planet in the ways she can: picking up garbage on the street, planting a tree or hosting a community Mass near her home. 

How do you feel about the industrial developments that are in the neighborhood?

In the morning, I open my window and instead of breathing fresh air that smells natural, it smells like oil and smoke. And we all breathe all of that. [When the Crawford coal plant was demolished,] the odor became more strong that day. The dust came up, and where did it end up? In our lungs, in our homes. Why did they do this here in our area? [City officials] give [industrial companies] the resources, and they bring us the garbage and we can’t open our windows. 

If you had the opportunity to construct other things, instead of a facility like Hilco, what would you create for the community in Little Village? 

If the world thought differently about the ecosystem, global warming and the trees—they [would] know that trees are the lungs of the earth. 

If someone came and knocked down a tree, I would plant two trees. For every tree that is removed, [I would want] two trees planted. That would be entirely different. But unfortunately, we don’t all think the same. 

I believe that we do not depend only on the city. We cannot wait for others to take action. I put my plants inside in the winter [and they] help filter the air inside my house. The plants are like the lungs of the house. 

How did you learn to do that?

From my parents. From their parents. Sometimes, I didn’t have money to buy a flowerpot. So, my mom made one. She would grab a can and she would draw eyes, and then she would fill the can with dirt. A lot of people say, “Oh, you can do that because you have a lot of resources.” You don’t need any resources. All you have to do is recycle. I always tell my kids that life is like a big lesson. We never stop learning.

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Selena Rosario Hernandez

Rosario Hernandez has lived in Little Village for 40 years. When City Bureau fellows met her, she was in line at Mother of the Americas Catholic Church during their weekly food drive.

Have you had any issues with the air quality in this neighborhood?

Where I live, I am in the middle of a lot of mechanic shops. The wind shouldn't have [toxic particles] because air is pure because God gave us the air. With all this traffic, the dust lifts up. What is going to happen when people walk somewhere and they immediately start to cough? That’s because we are breathing all of the dust that is in the air.

What do you want to know about Little Village? Do you have any questions for our city’s government?

The only—it’s just that there is so much—no respect. I am going to tell you something. In the streets, what you see is tires from cars that have fallen on the ground and have stayed there for months. When you report this to the city, they say, “Yes, we know.” They don’t pick up the [tires], and that looks bad.

This summer, City Bureau fellows Leslie Hurtado, Ger Salgado, Ata Younan and Sebastián Hidalgo are examining the relationship between industrial expansion and the city’s Little Village community. If you have ideas or tips, please email publicheroesandsecrets@gmail.com.

Correction: An earlier version of this story referenced when “Hilco” was demolished. It was been updated to state the accurate name of the plant, Crawford, which was demolished by Hilco Redevelopment Partners.

This story is available to republish under a Creative Commons license. Read City Bureau’s guidelines here.

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