On Wednesday, May 25, 2016, an ALSO employee was made to feel unsafe at a neighborhood coffee shop, which we consider a violent experience. Upon recommendation from a co-worker, she went to Brü Chicago to drink coffee and study for an upcoming professionalization exam. During her 2+ hour stay, the shop’s owner, Alyona Udartseva, policed our co-worker, monitoring the area where she sat as she tried to study. Around 7 pm, our co-worker wished everyone a good night on her way out of the shop. Unbeknownst to her, our co-worker was followed by a male employee who ran after her down the street and stepped in front her, preventing her continued approach to the train station. The male employee then accused her of stealing his iPod.

From the moment our co-worker set foot in Brü Chicago, she was made to feel uncomfortable, unwanted, and unsafe under the advisement of owner, Alyona Udartseva in a place the owner says should “feel like you are at home sitting on your couch and enjoying a cup of coffee or doing your homework.” Udartseva further discusses her focus on “having quality product in an open and inviting space.” We at ALSO believe that our co-worker experienced violence and that the violence she experienced is symptomatic of oppression, racism, and gentrification. As a black woman, our co-worker was discriminated against and targeted because of the color of her skin.  

The gentrification of Wicker Park makes our co-worker’s skin color undesirable. In his article, “The Politics of Gentrification: The Case of West Town in Chicago (Urban Affairs Review 2002),” John Betancur defines gentrification in West Town as “a class struggle for space” that also “played out through race/ethnicity” (784).  Betancur analyzes gentrification in Wicker Park, where Brü Chicago is located. In the mid-1970s, realtors sunk capital into “clusters” of Wicker Park that they then built up with help from city investment.  Rising property values in the 1980s and 1990s, a result of the build up in the 1970s, pushed out people from the neighborhood who could no longer afford to live and run businesses in Wicker Park. Betancur writes “Today, Wicker Park hosts many upscale restaurants, coffeehouses, theaters, galleries, offices, and nightclubs. Many ethnic retailers have moved from the main retail concentrations or closed altogether” (791). Alyona Udartseva boasts that Brü Chicago sells the same coffee used in “several fine-dining restaurants” while also articulating how she can’t afford to raise her workers’ wages.

The gentrification of Wicker Park threatens the safety of those considered “undesirable” because of their class or race/ethnicity. Niche.com, which ranked Wicker Park at the “Best Neighborhood for Millennials” in Chicago, defined Wicker Park as a neighborhood with “[…] very high home values and very high rent costs. Its citizens generally have high education levels and very high income levels.” Wicker Park is known for its gentrification. For ALSO, the area is now infamous for the violence our millennial co-worker experienced within its boundaries.

We at ALSO believe that “No one is free from the threat or act of violence until we are all free from the threat or act of violence.” We also believe strongly in the power and efficacy of bystander intervention and designed a program called Your Life is My Life. Alyona, we ask you to offer an apology, change the climate of your coffee shop, and make Brü Chicago a place that welcomes everyone. Until then, please join us in supporting our co-worker by boycotting Brü Chicago and sharing this blog post on social media. #a_l_s_o #allornone #urlifemylife #SeeItSayItChangeIt #OurStoryChi