Last month, Chicago alderpersons had a choice: courage or oppression.  

In June, 27 alderpersons chose oppression in the 27-24 vote to approve a “snap curfew” ordinance, allowing the Chicago Police superintendent to issue a curfew anywhere in the city with 30 minute’s notice. The idea is that this would prevent large teen gatherings called “trends” or “takeovers” that some city officials say have the potential to become violent.  

Folks in favor of this ordinance cited safety, giving the air that there was a difference between “regular” Black teen children and an unspoken “other” Black teen children from the South and West sides. It’s easy to grant police more power as a balm to fear, as an OK to oppression in the name of alleviating fear. The harder work is confronting the roots of the fear of Black teen children, and the failure of the city over decades to make policy around what this city can and should be for its teen children on the South and West sides.  

The harder work is asking and answering the questions: how long will this city align its policies and imagination with the racial stereotype that young Black folks aren’t children and are somehow inherently dangerous and other? 

Do we imagine space and place for the teen youth in this city beyond downtown and the North Side?  

What is the function of the city; is it only business and luxury rental development in certain areas, or is it fundamentally and first about the development and growth of its people, including Black teen children?  

What permanent, sustained spaces and infrastructure has the city ensured we intentionally build and maintain for our children as they navigate adolescence? 

How intentional has the city been in making sure that our adolescent children are integrated into the everyday flow of the city’s life?  

I use the terms adolescent children and Black teen children intentionally to underscore that the teens from the South and West sides are indeed still children, despite the aims and reach of adultification. They are still in a crucial developmental stage of learning who they are as individuals. Their decisions can sometimes be based on emotions first because that’s their stage of development. Sometimes they want to take risks because that’s their stage of development. They are the same children, who now because they look a little older and got a little taller, the world around them suddenly stopped seeing them as cute and innocent (if it ever did for Black children). The world now sees them as a threat. 

For 20 years, I’ve been a mom in this city, and for 20 years as I’ve mothered my own children. I’ve sat in church halls and zoom meetings listening to kids talk about how all they want is a space/place to belong, to be seen. 

What we cannot ignore is that our Black teen children are trying to navigate belonging in a city where they’ve had to endure a school system that doesn’t meet their needs, serial forced displacement, food deserts, intermittent violence, environmental injustice from the air they breathe to the streets they walk in, and violence. 

Mayor Brandon Johnson vetoed the “snap curfew” ordinance. In his veto letter, he wrote:  “At a time when violent crime continues to trend down across the City of Chicago, it is critical that we continue our investments in community safety strategies that have a proven track record of success.”

Mayor Brandon Johnson did the right thing. Here’s how we should move next:

We must stop conflating violence with Black teen children. 

We must not overturn the mayor’s veto.  The inability of some lawmakers to have the courage, temerity, heart, or empathy to really see our children is not a responsibility to be offloaded into the hard power of the Chicago Police Department, which is still working to be in compliance with a consent decree sparked by their fatal interaction with a Chicago teen named Laquan McDonald. City Council needs to do the hard work. They need to imagine a Chicago that weaves belonging and respect into the very fabric of the city’s view and interaction with Black teen children. 

Lastly, we need expanded free programming and opportunities for Black teen children, including a universal basic income infrastructure so our youth are provided a stipend to access all the spaces that require spending money. So that our youth can really hone in on the gifts and talents they have as problem solvers, leaders, and culture creators. So they can have a space, a place, and a city where they can show up as their fullest self, and be known for who they are. So they can flourish.