I’ve lived in Chicago most of my life — and it feels different. An innocence I hung onto for too long is gone. I understand why people leave the city that they love. Our neighborhood isn’t an island separated from the forces affecting the rest of the city, and it really never was. I see the beauty of our streets again, but I’m looking in the dark places more closely than ever. I’ve become suspicious, peering down alleys and out of windows, ready to call police at any sign of mischief. My feelings are harder now, less comfortable, but my love for my community is still stronger than my fear.