Women and Children
Some 2,500 years ago, Plato penned the Republic, laying out his take on the mechanisms that produce a just society. Those picking up that classic of Western Civilization are usually surprised when Socrates (Plato’s narrator) describes a utopia in which both men and women serve as society’s “guardians” (or what the MAGA crowd now refer to derisively as the “elites”). Equality between the sexes in Ancient Greece? Let’s just say, Plato was ahead of his time.
Today, Chicago’s Ukrainian community demonstrated Plato’s wisdom as they marched south from the Water Tower on the north end of Michigan Avenue to Millenium Park as part of an effort to keep Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in the public consciousness. After the marchers dispersed, I spoke with three men standing outside the Consulate General of Ukraine, located on Huron, two and half blocks west of Michigan Avenue. Outwardly, the three appeared to be the ringmasters, but when I commented that there was a certain aspect of the march that I particularly liked, they demurred. Instead, they told me that all credit goes to women in the local Ukrainian community, who have been particularly disturbed by the war’s devastating impact on Ukrainian children. It was those women who organized today’s events, hoping to call attention to Vladimir Putin’s reign of terror. In doing so, the march’s organizers proved Plato correct: like men, women can function as a community’s guardians.
As I reviewed the 1,200 or so images that I produced during today’s demonstration, I was not surprised that women were behind the effort. The vast majority of the participants were women. Many wore what must have been the recommended uniform—a long white dress, accompanied by a barrette fashioned with yellow and blue flowers. To emphasize the war’s devastating impact on children, many of the women and children who accompanied them carried dolls and other toys, each covered in red paint, replicating blood. I was reminded of the famous “Butcher” album cover for the Beatles album, Yesterday and Today—a cover that never officially saw the light of day because it would have been too controversial.
The march kicked off with a brief rally in what is now called Jane Byrne Plaza, the site of the stone water tower that survived the Great Chicago Fire. There was no podium or mic; just a couple of bullhorns. No politicos spoke (more about that shortly). For about 15 to 20 minutes, the group of several hundred people chanted several now-familiar slogans, finishing with heartfelt renditions of both the U.S. and Ukrainian national anthems.
Unlike the March 6 rally in the Loop, the marchers did not take to the street, which did not surprise me. The city relegated them to the sidewalk. Shoppers and others stood to the side as the demonstrators marched past Tiffany, Cartier, Under Armour, the recently-opened Prince Purple Rain pop-up exhibit, Vans, Starbucks, Chick-fil-A, and other Michigan Avenue retailers and eateries.
I suspect many of the onlookers, with cellphones in hand for that Instagram moment, thought to themselves, “I forgot about the Ukrainians.” A lot has happened since February: inflation; the January 6 hearings; the leak of Justice Alito’s opinion overturning Roe v Wade; President Biden’s trip to Saudi Arabia; Europe’s heat wave; mass shootings in Buffalo, Uvalde, and Highland Park; the collapse of Bitcoin; and the Queen’s Platinum Jubilee. So the march, alone, had achieved its purpose—returning Ukraine to the public consciousness, or at least the public who shops on Michigan Avenue.
The organizers, however, saved the best for last. When they arrived in Millenium Park, the women in white snapped into formation—six or seven rows that spread from one end of the plaza holding Cloud Gate to the other. Out of nowhere an air-raid siren reverberated off the concrete, with a voice announcing that this is the sound that Ukrainian children hear daily as Russia launches its rockets and missiles into Ukrainian territory. Suddenly, all those white dresses fell to the ground, with their occupants lying on the pavement, eyes closed and bodies contorted, simulating death. This bit of street theatre was highly impactful, particularly with the participants clutching the dolls, toys, and placards with the images of children who had been killed during the Russian bombardments.
After everyone returned to their feet, the group once again sang the U.S. and Ukrainian national anthems. Then it was time for some family photographs.
The humidity was getting to me, so I was a bit perturbed when someone announced that the group would now march north up Michigan Avenue. I would have to delay my well-deserved Starbucks Pineapple Refresher, which has become my preferred post-demonstration drink. The delay turned out to be well worth it.
This time the group moved a little quicker, making its way to the Ukrainian Consulate General, which is housed in a classic Chicago redbrick building, protected by iron fencing. As much walking as I do in the area, I had never noticed this architectural gem.
Even without the plaque identifying the building’s occupant, there would have been no question that this was Ukrainian territory. Large photographs depicting the horrors of the war were affixed to the fence, but it was the march participants who added the finishing touch. The women had thick rolls of tape that they used to attach the dolls to the fence. The effect was startling to say the least.
Once their work was complete and selfies had been taken, the group quickly dispersed. I did see two of the demonstrators enjoying a late lunch at the Cheesecake Factory, as I sat in the Hancock Center’s outdoor sunken plaza enjoying my refresher.
A Note to the Highland Park Activists. Today’s demonstration holds an important lesson for those in Highland Park who now seek a Federal ban on assault weapons. In the immediate aftermath of a tragedy that captures the public’s imagination, those in the affected community hold a large megaphone. But as the Ukrainians and so many other groups have learned, the cause de jour quickly becomes yesterday’s soon-to-be-forgotten meatloaf. That megaphone passes to another community, one that has been hit by a hurricane, mass shooting, plant closing, police shooting, or other tragedy.
Today’s demonstration offers a textbook example. Where were Governor Pritzker, Mayor Lightfoot, Senator Richard Durbin, Representatives Danny Davis, Raja Krishnamoorthi, Mike Quigley, and Jan Schakowsky, and all the other politicians who attended the rallies immediately following Putin’s invasion? ABC7 had a camera and reporter doing interviews in Jane Byrne Plaza, but I saw no other television crews. As of 10:15 PM, ABC7 had not mentioned the demonstration. I have yet to see any coverage in the Chicago Tribune or the Sun Times.
As for the general public’s participation in today’s demonstration, I would have to say there was little, if any. Back in February and March, the Ukrainian demonstrations were larger, with many non-Ukrainians participating.
Both the Chicago Ukrainian and the Highland Park communities face the same, at times daunting, task: keeping their causes in the public limelight. The Ukrainian community did an excellent job today reminding all of us about an unjust land grab, but unfortunately, their work will not be complete until Russia is pushed out of Ukraine. Of course, that means more events will be necessary—events which keep pressure on the Biden Administration to keep supplying Ukraine with sufficient military resources. It is easy to mobilize when everyone wants to hear what you have to say. It is a lot harder once everyone has moved on.
Note to Readers: As I left the Consulate General of Ukraine, the three men I encountered were removing the dolls from the fence. One of them told that if they left them in place, passersby would take them, According to him, by removing them, the dolls and other toys could be used again in future demonstrations. I am not sure whether the large photographs attached to the fencing were also removed.
[Click on an Image to Enlarge It]
For additional images from this and prior demonstrations, click here.
Copyright 2022, Jack B. Siegel, All Rights Reserved. Do Not Alter, Copy, Download, Display, Distribute, or Reproduce Without the Prior Written Consent of the Copyright Holder.