Regional perspective

CAN THE SOUTH
SUBURBS SHOW THE WAY?

The communities in the south suburbs make up a crazy quilt
of contending interests. But regional planners argue
such diversity may point the way to our future

by Alf Siewers

The South will rise again. Maybe.

At least that's what activists have in mind for Chicago's southern suburbs. Once the Fertile Crescent of northeastern Illinois, the region that stretches west from the south end of Lake Michigan and south toward Joliet has been hard-hit of late by industrial decline. Yet some of the area's movers and shakers are plotting a 21st-century comeback with a twist: a new identity rooted in the environment.

In short, community leaders and regional planners hope to recast the south suburbs' gritty image, build some political muscle and breathe high-tech economic life into the area. The key to that hope may lie in the region's scattered remnants of natural open spaces. It's a long-shot strategy. For starters, the south suburbs don't figure much in the mix when Illinois' politicians get down to divvying up financial resources. The large and amorphous political tract known as "downstate," Chicago and, more recently, the homogenous suburbs that ring the city to the north and west take up all the seats at the bargaining table. Still, there's reason for optimism.

The south suburbs managed to capture center stage in last fall's election. They helped give Democrat Michael Madigan the margin he needed to retake the speakership in the Illinois House, giving regional strategists reason to believe they'll have a stronger voice in the new General Assembly. At the same time, the south suburbs have new friends in Congress: Democratic Rep. Jesse Jackson Jr. of Chicago has made economic development a high priority, and Republican Rep. Jerry Weller of Morris has been helping to round up federal dollars.

Nevertheless, if the communities south of Chicago are to secure a place at the political table, regional planners acknowledge they'll need to agree among themselves on a common agenda. And that won't be easy. The area comprises one of the most diverse populations in the state and encompasses a far-flung and wildly balkanized community of interests.

Yet, a coalition of local leaders, based at Governors State University in University Park, hopes to knit together this crazy quilt of constituencies in part by focusing first on the area's physical quality of life.

"Even though it's a very fragmented region in all kinds of ways, focusing on the green infrastructure does create a sense of place, a sense of region, that didn't exist before," says Gerald Adelmann, executive director of Openlands Project and a member of a

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The regional effort, which has the support of prominent foundations and think tanks, is aimed at unifying suburbs that cross three counties (Cook, Will and Kankakee) and encompass 85 communities, as well as scores of other local taxing districts. It will be tough to define common interests when communities range from upscale Olympia Fields, with a median family income of $83,000, to poverty-stricken Ford Heights, with a median family income of $14,000. Further, the population of the south suburbs is more diverse than in many suburban areas. African Americans make up 17 percent of the residents; Hispanics make up 5 percent at the region's core.

Yet, strategists see the potential for coalition-building in the recently established 19,165-acre Midewin National Tallgrass Prairie at the old Joliet Arsenal site. In fact, the Midewin project illustrates how conservative politicians like Weller can join forces with politicians from across south-suburban battlegrounds to support environmental redevelopment. In the long term, proponents argue, federal support for that project could generate tourism dollars. Weller also supports proposals for a national park that would include portions of the Lake Calumet waterway system. While the exact boundaries have yet to be set, the proposal, currently under study in Washington, D.C., would include Lake Calumet and corridors running along the Little Calumet and Calumet rivers into northwestern Indiana's duneshore on the east end. On the west end, the project would link up with the Illinois & Michigan Canal National Heritage Corridor.

This steel plant along the Calumet River is a reminder of the heavy industry that once dominated the region to the south of Chicago.

At the same time, the mammoth Palos Preserves complex of natural areas already anchors the southwestern section of the region.

"[We are beginning] to stitch together a new regional identity that is shaped in many ways by the land itself and by the cultural and natural heritage that it represents," Adelmann says.

That natural heritage was detailed recently by James Landing, an emeritus geography professor at the University of Illinois at Chicago, as he led a tour of the proposed Lake Calumet project.

At the convergence of prairie and Great Lakes ecosystems, the area was once a patchwork of lush wetlands and a key source of food and transportation routes for Native Americans. Now, though, the landfills at the edge of Lake Calumet look like prehistoric mounds in the twilight glow of flickering gas flames. Heron rookeries and flyway stopovers for migratory birds lie hidden nearby, as well as Acme Steel's new $400 million Riverdale mill along the Little Calumet River.

To Landing, who has for years been waging a quiet but tireless campaign for an ecological park amid the area's

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industrial debris, the grass-roots move toward a regional identity means enhancing the chance to protect rare animal and plant species, including perhaps the fabled lost Thismia plant found only in the Lake Calumet area.

To the regional "brain trust" at Governors State that is mapping plans for south suburban unity, projects that build on the area's heritage are a means for getting diverse groups to the table — and getting them talking about other regional interests.

"We are a work in progress," says Larry McClellan, the sociologist-minister and former mayor of Park Forest South who directs the 1-year-old South Metropolitan Regional Leadership Center at Governors State. To McClellan, overdevelopment of other satellite suburban regions around Chicago means that the south suburbs are next in line for development.

Aside from the politically stagnated prospects for a third Chicago area airport, the region has shown significant signs of growth: Joliet, Orland Park, Tinley Park and Bolingbrook were among the top Chicago-area communities in housing starts last year. Meanwhile, Will County has recorded significant employment gains, reporting a 34 percent increase in the decade since 1985.

But such growth doesn't necessarily help the poorer south-suburban communities centered in Cook County. And the problems of communities like Ford Heights and Robbins, whether fiscal or social, can spill over on more affluent neighbors. The impact of a school funding crisis, or an increase in crime, crosses political borders. What affects a part affects the whole.

At least that's the case McClellan and other center workers, including Ron Bean, a former mayor of Park Forest, make when they pitch more fundamental change, including consideration in Springfield for overhauling the local tax system. High property taxes in Cook, they argue, deter investment in that county, and competition among south-suburban communities for property tax revenue keeps the area divided politically. "That [our property tax system] is our hardest thing to overcome," says Carrie Broughton, president of Heritage Community Bank in Glenwood, who has been involved in the regional planning effort. In fact, the vast differences in property values present a number of obstacles to regional unity. Competition for development is increased, for instance, by reliance on property taxes to fund schools. A south-suburban summit on education last January brought together more than 100 people willing to help draw up an agenda for the south suburbs that would include shifting the tax burden for funding schools to the income tax.

A scene along the Calumet River

Meanwhile, a negative image of some communities in the region helps discourage investment overall. That problem is behind the strategists' attempt to market the area as a region. Initially, they plan to assemble an economic-development database that cuts across traditional political boundaries for use by businesses and policy-makers.

But regionalists are looking to the social infrastructure of the south suburbs as well. They would encourage further sharing of resources among school districts and local agencies strapped by property tax caps and limited tax bases. Further, the Housing Coalition of the Southern Suburbs, founded in the 1980s, has grown from eight to 20 member communities that are achieving racial diversity in south-suburban neighborhoods. Those communities range from gritty Calumet City to upscale Homewood. And planners are assembling a corps of community activists who could foster a new generation of racially diverse local leaders with a regional perspective. Such a group would be an asset in an area that doesn't have the extensive network of corporate and professional leaders that other suburban areas can look to.

The MacArthur Foundation and the Chicago Community Trust funded a previous effort to develop a regional plan, called RAP 2000. And they contributed $100,000 each last year to launch the regional leadership center at Governors State. For them, the south-suburban regional planning effort is a model for the Chicago area. At the same time, the Metropolitan Planning Council, a private not-for-profit think tank based in that city, is providing support for regionalist efforts.

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These funders and policy analysts see the creation of a region-wide strategy as one way to enhance Chicago's chances in the global marketplace. That's because overseas investors themselves look at the Chicago area as a whole, rather than viewing it as one city surrounded by many smaller satellite communities. The rationale for the move toward a regional perspective, drawn from cities such as Minneapolis/St. Paul and Portland, is that old city/suburban boundaries have become as obsolete as national economies. Regions need to compete internationally as regions, the argument goes, and the quality of life in an area can be a major selling point for investment by high-tech industries and service firms.

Regionalism in other cities has meant planned growth and shared tax revenues from new commercial and industrial development. In Portland, for example, a growth boundary was established to refocus new development closer to the central city. In the Minneapolis/St. Paul area, additional local tax revenues from new commercial and industrial developments are shared with municipalities around the region.

That is unlikely to occur in the foreseeable future in Illinois. But a unified area, such as the south suburbs, with drive and political clout could help advance the cause of less radical, though still highly contentious, reforms, including increased state support for education.

Thus, one way to strengthen regional thinking is to start with subregions. And there are solid reasons to consider the Southlands a test case. Their time may indeed be at hand. Just as Chicago's own dominant neighborhoods shifted from the South Side to the North Side at the turn of the century, only to head southward again recently, so too the south suburbs could be poised for a new role.

Practical experience developed over the years in race relations in the area "places the southern suburbs at an advantage over other areas where integration hasn't occurred," says Joe Martin, executive director of the Housing Coalition of the Southern Suburbs. "Diversity has become a buzzword in private industry and business. ... We feel that we do have an extra edge."

The Governors State leadership center team of McClellan and Bean, of European and African-American backgrounds, typifies the area's diversity, as does the political odd couple representing the region in Congress. Weller and Jesse Jackson Jr., while at odds on many philosophical and political issues, both support a Will County airport, the Midewin National Tall-grass Prairie and efforts to reduce problems stemming from the concentration of subsidized housing in the blue-collar south suburbs. Indeed, the scope of the region's problems is so vast that differences in ideology blur on a range of issues. "Education funding reform is going to be the big issue [in the legislature] this year," says Karyn Purvis, another staff member at the leadership center. "People in this region are demanding that something be done. ... And that is only going to get done if it is approached with bipartisan cooperation." Of course, it doesn't hurt that the area is contested terrain for the political parties, which in many ways may be more representative of the future of Chicago-area politics than, say, rock-ribbed Republican Du Page County.

Environmental leaders have waged a quiet but tireless campaign for an ecological park amid the Southland's industrial debris. They see a chance to protect rare animal and plant species.

Jerry W. Lewis, a Potawatomi Indian who manages cultural diversity programs at South Suburban College, sees destiny in the relation between the region's culture and its environment. Lewis, who has written and taught Native American history, sees in parts of the south suburbs the remnants of an older relation between humans and nature, on land that formerly was an important focus of Indian and early European activity. The pattern of waterways and the relative underdevelopment of parts of the area helped create a culture that valued open lands. Such a culture could support human and environmental diversity, he says.

Further, Lewis believes the diversity of people and landscape lend the region flexibility in dealing with economic change. Companies can tap a wider employment pool; open landscape presents a good investment image and expresses a grass-roots community ethic. Such intangibles, he argues, could enable the region to survive change better than communities stuck in the homogeneity of the 1980s- style suburbs.

Alf Siewers, former urban affairs writer at the Chicago Sun-Times, is researching issues involving landscape and ancient cultures at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign,

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