I love my city. It's an emotion I couldn't hide, not even at gunpoint. I was born, raised and educated in Chicago and even slipped into a good career right here. Then, duties and dreams lured me away. But duties get boring, and dreams. . . well, dreams have a way of fizzling or coming true regardless of where you are. So I came back to my sweet home and found that it feels even better than before. Chicago is truer to itself and on the verge of good things. The difference has got to be the people: the natives, transplants, immigrants and visitors. They give Chicago its savor and make up its face. It's a composite face, an amalgam, a fusion and, at times, a confusion of the people living and passing through here. We are Chicago. And here we are!
On the West Side of Chicago, people will say, ‘Where are the bees even finding flowers?’ Bees don’t discern between what you and I see as a flower and what you and I see as a weed — like white clover, which is actually a weed. It makes the best honey, and there’s a lot of that on the West Side. It’s about drawing the good out of what looks like a bad plant.
It’s about drawing the good out of what looks bad. There are endless applications of this philosophy.