The
poet Carl Sandburg (1878-1967)
loved and defended Chicago, his adopted home. Sandburg described his poem Chicago
as a chant of defiance, a praise of agriculture, industry, and the railroads
for which Chicago was an important hub, during a time when the city was the
nation’s industrial capital. Today, the poem still resonates, particularly for
me as a first-time visitor.
Chicago
is big. It is bustling. Like New York, it is what I always imagined a great
city should be. Yes, as Sandburg acknowledged, Chicago has its flaws, of which
its notorious homicide rate (more than 800 victims in 2021) stands out. But the
Chicago I’ve seen during my stay here is vibrant, diverse, exciting, historic,
and exhilarating. It has an embarrassment of cultural riches, fantastic parks, strong
universities, and unparalleled architecture. And the Chicagoans I’ve
encountered are truly genuine and friendly. The city I was born and raised
in—Vancouver, Canada—is cosmopolitan and beautiful, but it seems downright sleepy
and pint-sized by comparison. Chicago may be the Second City, but it most
definitely is not second rate. Chicago is world-class, full stop.
Hog
Butcher for the World,
Tool maker, Stacker of Wheat,
Player with Railroads and the
Nation's
Freight
Handler;
Stormy, husky, brawling,
City of the Big Shoulders:
They tell me you are wicked and I believe them, for I have seen your painted women under the gas lamps luring the farm boys.
And they tell me you are crooked and I answer: yes, it is true I have seen the
gunman kill and go free to kill again.
And they tell me you are brutal and my reply is: On the faces of women and
children I have seen the marks of wanton hunger.
And having answered so I turn once more to those who sneer at this my city, and
I give them back the sneer and say to them:
Come and show me another city with lifted head singing so proud to be alive and
coarse and strong and cunning.
Flinging magnetic curses amid the toil of piling job on job, here is a tall
bold slugger set vivid against the little soft
cities;
Fierce as a dog with tongue lapping for action, cunning as a savage pitted
against the wilderness,
Bareheaded,
Shoveling,
Wrecking,
Planning,
Building,
breaking, rebuilding,
Under the smoke, dust all over his mouth, laughing with white teeth,
Under the terrible burden of destiny laughing as a young man laughs,
Laughing even as an ignorant fighter laughs who has never lost a battle,
Bragging and laughing that under his wrist is the pulse, and under his ribs the
heart of the people,
Laughing!
Laughing the stormy, husky, brawling laughter of Youth, half-naked,
sweating, proud to be Hog Butcher, Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat, Player with
Railroads and Freight Handler to the Nation.