On my wall hangs a huge, framed photograph of the members of Urban Prep Academies' first class at their graduation. It’s a candid portrait of young Black men from some of Chicago’s toughest neighborhoods who had achieved what many people said was impossible: graduating from high school and gaining college admission. The image evokes promises fulfilled and possibilities yet to come. One of the people in that photo is Mr. Rafael Wordlaw. Since Urban Prep addresses all students with an honorific, he will always be Mr. Wordlaw to me.
Mr. Wordlaw was recently shot and killed during an apparent robbery attempt — fourteen years after the graduation picture was taken. Since founding Urban Prep, whose mission is to provide young Black men with the education and support needed to succeed in life, forty-eight students have become victims of gun violence; twenty-two of them have lost their lives.
And now, once again, the Urban Prep family is left devastated and heartbroken.
I am the first to say that our society shouldn’t value one person’s life over another. But Mr. Wordlaw’s murder hits different. Not only did the start of his high school career coincide with the start of Urban Prep’s first school, but he was also an exemplar of everything we’d hoped for when we created Urban Prep. After graduating from Indiana State University, he returned to Urban Prep to work full-time. He said it was his way of giving back to the school that had given so much to him. Mr. Wordlaw continued giving back by pursuing a career in law enforcement, ultimately becoming a Deputy in the Cook County Sheriff’s office. As one of Mr. Wordlaw’s classmates posted on social media about him soon after the shooting:
“You did it the right way…and came back to the ‘hood as a hero.”
Mr. Wordlaw was only 31 when sixty-nine bullets were fired at him at that gas station. We will never know how much further he could have climbed, but undoubtedly, the heights would have been staggering. In stark contrast, Mr. Wordlaw’s alleged murderer is a five-time convicted felon who didn’t attend Urban Prep, graduate from college, or have the support network of friends and family that Mr. Wordlaw did. I’m not making excuses for Mr. Wordlaw’s killer, but I am contemplating why he chose to terrorize his community rather than, like Mr. Wordlaw, working to improve it. There must be a reason he spent time in jail instead of, like Mr. Wordlaw, bringing criminals to justice. Understanding that reason might help us prevent future tragedies.
We often complain about the prevalence of guns and criminals on the street and worry about police resources and training. We lament the seemingly intractable violence plaguing some of Chicago’s neighborhoods. The culpability we share in creating the systems we disparage is missing from each of those observations.
Locally, a mere 15% of voting-age Chicagoans elected Mayor Brandon Johnson. According to the UIC Great Cities Institute, a "shocking low turnout" of 29% of Black registered voters, and 20% of registered Latino voters participated in the last mayoral election. This despite the fact that the Chicago Data Portal reports that over 90% of gun violence victims are Black or Latino.
If we want change, we should rally behind people who will make it a top priority. Regardless of who is in office, we should hold them accountable for addressing the safety of all of Chicago’s residents.
Scaling Community Violence Intervention for a Safer Chicago, aims to raise $100 million in foundation and corporate support to combat gun violence. This initiative, led by the Civic Committee of the Commercial Club of Chicago, Metropolitan Peace Initiatives, and Chicago CRED, is an important development and plan. However, we cannot rely solely on philanthropy to fix the problem. Chicago’s year-to-date tally of over 370 homicides among almost 2,000 shootings is far too many. Whether the victims of this violence are our children, friends, neighbors, students, or strangers, Chicagoans should step up and help put an end to the carnage. For those already in the trenches, now’s the time to redouble efforts.
When tragedy strikes, we have to find not the good in it (how can anything so heinous be good?) but the call to action. While Mr. Wordlaw’s body was not bulletproof, his spirit was. He leaves behind an example of what is possible when we believe in our youth and when they, in turn, believe in themselves. Now, it’s our turn to ensure that the legacy of Mr. Wordlaw isn’t one about violence but change… and, yes, even hope.