One Week in Chicago: The Introduction

Today is Sunday, meaning that I have been waking up in this city for exactly a week. Last Sunday, I was in a hotel next to the lake. I woke up and went for a run with my Dad and my sister before they dropped me off at Blackstone and my Chicago program began. It feels utterly impossible that it has only been a week. I have met so many people, seen so much, created the beginnings of an entire life here. I haven’t had time to breath. But I think it is time to introduce you to exactly what I am doing here, in the city.

I am spending the summer studying at the Chicago Center for Urban Life and Culture. The Center, located in the now-famous Hyde Park (where Obama is from), runs an urban plunge for college students. This summer, there are roughly thirty of us living in six apartments. We are an incredibly diverse group—we are from all different parts of the country (and abroad) and all different walks of life. Together, in the summer session, we will explore every fiber I can of the city: visiting museums and neighborhoods, festivals and restaurants, parks and monuments and communities.  We will read about issues plaguing the city, art that breathes in the city and the people who live here. We will also all work different internships; an incredible draw for me as the city is filled with publications a young journalist with a social conscience might aspire to work with.  The final component will be living here—learning first hand not only what living in an urban environment is like, but also learning to live with people incredibly different people.

I am to journal throughout. I will write about my internship and about the people I am with. Moreover, I will try to capture the city as I discover it on my own and with the help of the Chicago Center. As I am writing about this first week retroactively, it is going to come out in a jumble of experiences; not necessarily in chronological order. This past week has been filled with the exploring the tastes and sites of Chicago, the stressful search for an internship and much more.

I once studied a French artist who, in his life, had taken one monumental trip to Egypt. He later wrote that that single trip could give him enough material to paint for the rest of his life. That’s how I feel about this past week.