Knowing a Stranger Through Footsteps
September 22nd, 2021
I decided to conduct my “following a stranger” activity in the Loop after my English class on Wednesday morning. Once again, the Loop is a part of Chicago that has many untold stories I want to familiarize myself with more. I felt as though following a stranger in this environment would lend itself to interesting sights.
It was a very cloudy day, and the fall season was beginning to set in as the weather was much colder than it had been in the closing month of summer. Even though it was seemingly dreary, the cold weather energized me and motivated me to walk through the city. I just had completed an early morning, long class, so the idea of the walk was appealing as a way to clear my head. Since I was in the loop, there were many strangers to chose from. I found who I wanted to observe and began my walk just outside the Lewis Center in the Loop Campus.
We strolled down East Jackson Drive, and despite it being in the busiest part of the city, this wide and busy road lacked pedestrians besides us two walkers. Interesting city views presented itself as we approached the water and lended to seeing downtown from a different perspective. I felt cold at first, but the further we walked, the hotter it got, and it felt more like exercise oppose to a casual stroll. We approached Chicago Harbor, which made me feel very nostalgic. It looked exactly like Cape Cod, where I spend every summer with my family. I even snapped a picture to send to my Dad, as I thought he would appreciate the slice of peace in the busy city that produced sights identical to where he grew up.
I thought about my first visit to Chicago, where I walked these same streets and drove down the street I was walking on. I saw the same buildings and streets, but this time in a whole new perspective and time in my life. It was a full circle moment that this stranger lead me to the various places in which I first decided I wanted to live in Chicago. We continued along the harbor, encountering a handful of tourists and runners as light rain began falling from the sky. Since it was so quiet, everything had a sense of peace, and the rain only enhanced this element. The empty boats on the harbor, which probably are being retired for the colder seasons seemed ghostly with memories from the warm summer of fun on the water.
Disappointingly, we did not continue along the lake to see the more arial views of the city. But this was a blessing in disguise, because I realized I was used to these views of the Hancock Center and the view of downtown from Lincoln Park, that seeing a new perspective was vital to immersing myself in Chicago. We walked through an eery tunnel leading to the river walk, with intricate murals of the history of the city presented throughout. I was continently confused about why the city, especially this majorly touristy part was so empty on this beautiful fall day, but chose to see this as a positive. It felt as though I was getting a private tour of Downtown Chicago from someone I didn’t even know.
We continued along the river, where there were many abandoned summer spots, such as tiki bars and riverside restaurants. Once again, a very ghostly sight of summer memories. This intensified the daunting, yet exciting feeling of winter approaching. I have never been on the riverwalk, and I am glad I experienced it for the first time with just me and this stranger, because I felt like I could truly take it in without the (good) distractions of my friends and family being with me. I decided to stray away from my private tour guide once we ascended up the stairs to street level and head to the redline to go home to Lincoln Park.
This walk especially seemed deeply personal and solitary. My head felt clear once it was over, and I felt cleansed by the cold weather and rain. Walking along both the lake and river relaxed me beyond belief as water also seems to bring me to peace, wether it be in Brooklyn, Chicago or Cape Cod. Water is the one link to all the places I love, and I am grateful my private tour guide led me there.
In “Paris, or Botanzing the Asphalt,” Rebecca Solnit quotes Walter Benjamin who writes, “But to lose oneself in a city — as one loses oneself in a forest — that calls for a quite a different schooling” (p. 255). What is the meaning of “losing oneself in the city?” Have you ever lost yourself in this sense? If so, describe your experience. What do you remember?
I believe losing oneself in the city has a complex meaning which is different from everyone’s perspective. In my eyes, losing oneself in the city means not having a destination. I am so used to walking with a purpose, that I forget the beauty of getting lost and the true art of walking. Getting lost weirdly means getting to know the city, as you are encountering sights and environments with a fresh perspective which does not have a bias. Because of all the distractions cities offer, it can be difficult to force yourself to get lost. But once you cross that threshold, getting lost offers itself to a plethora of opportunities that clear your head and force you to observe what is around you. So often we look for distractions, that sometimes the only way to rid ourselves of this desire is to make ourselves lost. Getting lost in the city is releasing yourself from bias and your known perspective and distractions, and looking at what is around you with a new set of eyes. (word count 175.)
