When I tell people I grew up in Logan Square, they often picture the neighborhood as it is today: trendy coffee shops, bike lanes, and endless new restaurants. But my Logan Square was a completely different world. The neighborhood I knew was marked by gang activity, a close-knit community that was often rough around the edges, and a sense of resilience that shaped who I am today.
Back then, my family lived next to a house where people came and went—some were very clearly battling drug addictions, others had gang ties. My dad built a tall wooden fence over our chain link one just so my brother and I could have a safe place to play in the backyard. But even then, the things we saw were unforgettable. The first time I saw someone get shot, I was only five years old. I remember being in the basement, playing with a neighborhood friend. We heard loud arguing outside, so we peeked out the window. There were two men, one in a trench coat and the other in a white T-shirt. They were yelling, and suddenly, the man in white pulled out a gun and shot the other in the stomach. They both kept yelling, and it wasn’t at all like the movies. It was chaotic, raw, and for a five-year-old, hard to process.
That wasn’t the only time I saw violence, and it was a reality for a lot of kids in my neighborhood. The local park, instead of being a place for kids, was filled with Cobra gang members. Just walking through in the wrong colors could get you into trouble, so we mostly stayed away. For us, staying safe was a priority that we didn’t even realize was unusual—it was just life.
Years later, Logan Square looks and feels like a different place. It’s surreal to see how it’s transformed, but some things still surprise me. A few years ago, I was walking home from a nearby bar at night, and a group of men stopped me. They seemed to be flirting, but there was something more intimidating about their questions. After a couple of questions, I stopped, turned around and to my surprise I recognized two of their faces. One of them was Miguel, a boy I sat next to in Ms. Lebron’s second-grade class. I laughed and said, “Miguel? Get the fuck out of here, I’m just walking home, it’s me, Alejandra.” They all laughed, too, and ended up walking me home.
Growing up in Logan Square taught me strength, caution, and the importance of community. The neighborhood may have changed, but those memories and the lessons they brought with them are with me forever. I love you Logan Square.
XOXO,
Alejandra