In vibrant La Villita, some hard realities
The most vibrant neighborhood in Chicago—a place throbbing with music, labor and life—is not some hotspot on the North Side. It is Little Village, the reigning port-of-entry for the nation’s fastest-growing immigrant group.
Photo: Juan Francisco Hernandez
The busy 26th Street commercial corridor attracts shoppers from throughout metropolitan Chicago - and beyond.
Out back, from garages that line the alleys, there’s the whine of Skil saws and the scraping of fresh cement being hand-mixed and troweled.
Then there’s all the wrought-iron fencing that separates sidewalks from front lawns and flower gardens. In Little Village they’ve got a homegrown look. No two are alike and many have family initials and curlicues welded onto their hinged gates.
“A lot of them are made from scrap in garages and basements,” explained Jesus Garcia, executive director of the Little Village Community Development Corporation (LVCDC). He should know, having patrolled these streets for more than 20 years as a com-munity organizer, an alderman, a state senator and, since 1999, head of the neighborhood’s best-known community organization.
Photo: Juan Francisco Hernandez
Former alderman and state senator Jesus Garcia leads efforts to address neighborhood issues.
Beneath the surface
On a sunny day, awash with mariachi music and the smell of fried beans, 26th Street seems too good to be true–a veritable commercial for the great American melting pot. Whatever happened to The Jungle? Where in Little Village, or La Villita, are the mean streets of immigrant Chicago? Where are the pitfalls that broke the spirits of Jurgis and Ona, the Lithuanian newlyweds in Upton Sinclair’s muckraking 1906 novel?
“Don’t be fooled,” cautioned Garcia. “We have no shortage of problems here.”
Photo: Juan Francisco Hernandez
Homeowners show pride with custom fences, flowers and images of the Virgin Mary.

