Evanston is super weird. We like to pretend we’re the same as any other city, but there’s a noticeably different attitude, different feeling, different culture. The way Evanstonians think of themselves is fascinating. In talking about the political and economic makeup of Evanston, the people here simultaneously have enormous pride in their home while never missing an opportunity to criticize it. Some of the city’s most fervent haters are those who have lived here their entire lives. So, as a Chicagoan with Evanston roots, I remember growing up hearing people joke about Evanston’s progressivism, but I was intrigued when I moved here before ninth grade and found that Evanstonians took offense to political stereotypes they wholeheartedly embraced.
They readily admitted their conceit. They understood they weren’t Chicagoans, and doubled down on being somehow better than the city-dwellers. They were proud Evanstonians, totally unashamed of their suburban identity, and just a little self-righteous. This all baffled a kid who had grown up in an environment where they were relentlessly mocked. But I was about to be one of them. After touring the grounds, I had chosen to attend ETHS over a slew of Chicago schools. I was impressed with the resources and sense of community, and my mom had gone there and already lived in Evanston.
I was pretty vulnerable when I first moved here. A tubby, insecure 8th-grader with no friends in the middle of a global pandemic. Because I didn’t go to school here, I wasn’t going to make friends unless I put myself out there, and people weren’t going to respond unless I was sunshiney and persistent. Luckily, I had been exposed to Evanston society earlier through programs like Mudlark Theater and Camp Echo. These programs taught me that if I wanted to thrive, I’d have to be aggressively outgoing, and that’s exactly what I became.
Breaking into Evanston’s cliquey milieu was easier than I thought. It turns out that people react generally positively to a luminous personality, and I was surprised to find myself well received by several groups, particularly by those who were naturally charming or otherwise like-minded, and they became my first friends at ETHS. I was further shocked by how much people respected and even admired my unabashed outwardness. High school students, who are by nature awkward and self-conscious, tend to be amused by a loud personality who speaks up often in class, so long as they are jovial and respectful (which I always try to be). By being that gregarious person, others become more comfortable with speaking up themselves and a class community was able to form.
The culture of Evanston is to be friendly but judgemental, yet all dogmas can be broken through kindness and love. The pride and cliquey nature of E-Town’s residents can be a turn-off for some, but I’ve found that beyond their quirks, the people of Evanston are accepting and welcoming to a fault. There was no fanfare for my arrival, but they didn’t think twice about offering me a spot at their lunch table or inviting me over barely a week after we’d met. There is an amiability that simply doesn’t exist anywhere else I’ve been. There are a few places in everyone’s life that make a person who they are,
