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Chicago Seven: take three
By Sharla A. Stewart
Photography by Lloyd DeGrane
In the third installment of a four-year
project, the Magazine revisits its Chicago Seven. The College third-years
run in different crowds, vaguely aware of each other. Four have
studied abroad, three live in residence halls, and only one is concentrating
in the sciences. Less engaged in extracurricular activities and
more focused on the future, they are, by their own admission, growing
up.
John
Scott-Railton
Ann Arbor, Michigan
The most striking thing about John Scott-Railton’s
12th-floor studio in Mies van der Rohe’s Algonquin Apartments
at 50th Street and Hyde Park Boulevard is the sweeping southward
view. There is the campus, its spires barely piercing the firmament
above. As clouds pile up in the west (“It’s a Dutch
master’s sky! Where’s Vermeer?”), planes make
their way to Midway Airport, and whitecaps build on the lake to
the east. Inside, the blinds rattle in the breeze. A series of unframed,
evenly spaced photographs hangs at eye level: images of towering
masts, billowing sails, neatly coiled lines, the wine-dark sea.
Last summer Scott-Railton lived and worked as a deckhand aboard
the Alabama and the Shenandoah, two tall ships
based in Vineyard Haven, Martha’s Vineyard, Massachusetts.
The photos were taken with disposable cameras; in a self-portrait,
his hair is bleached blond, his features tanned. “It was hard
for me to come off the boat at the end of the summer and get my
noggin around what seems like an unhealthy existence. I’d
been waking at dawn, eating huge amounts of protein and meat, hauling
and lifting tons of materials. My hands were callused to hell. Suddenly
back in Chicago I felt incongruous.” Nearly done with a philosophy
concentration he’s developed a taste for the more concrete
field of cognitive psychology, which he plans to study in graduate
school. His sailor days may be behind him, but in his studio, at
least, he has preserved the outlook discovered while riding high
in the masts: “You can see things a long time before they
happen,” he says. “It’s true peacefulness. There
is nothing you don’t know will come.”
Stephanie
Maras
Chicago
Being in an authority position,”
Stephanie Maras says, “I feel like I’ve aged quickly.”
It’s a theme the Snell Hall assistant resident head
revisits several times on a breezy mid-April evening in her
fourth-floor single. Coordinating social events for other
students is a lot of responsibility, Maras explains, particularly
difficult in a dorm known as “finicky and antisocial.”
But the Chicago native has persevered, recruiting her mother
and aunt to bake pumpkin bread and organizing trips to Graceland
Cemetery and the Second City comedy club. Not that she has
any illusions about sparking a culture change. Her dorm assignment
is a “perfect fit,” she says, because “I
appreciate the desire to be left alone to do your own thing.”
As a third-year, she keeps returning to one thought: “I’m
leaving college. I better figure out what I’m going
to do next.” In the near term “next” means
a month of intensive language study this summer at Croatia’s
University of Zagreb; in the far term it’s starting
to look like a doctorate in history. The trip to Croatia is
her first to her family’s homeland and a chance to meet
some long-lost relatives. “I’m the dumb American
cousin,” Maras says—but that’s about to
change. During the trip she’ll do research for her B.A.—the
only one of the seven ready to talk about the project, she
plans to write about the Holocaust era in Croatia.
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Molly
Schranz
New York City
The fourth-floor Broadview single where Molly
Schranz has lived since winter quarter feels like a pit stop. The
books, the microwave, the clothes are all there, but the walls remain
almost bare. After three years of packing, storing, and moving,
Schranz reflects, her stuff no longer seems so important. Or perhaps
the room simply can’t live up to its occupant’s fall
quarter experiences in London. What sticks in her mind, aside from
the city’s great history, are its “nice supermarkets:
clean and modern with a really diverse selection of food products.”
The English literature concentrator also enjoyed “the great
selection of quality magazines, like the classic HELLO!
available at a much more affordable price than in the U.S.”
But her favorite part of the adventure was a week spent traveling
around the U.K. by train and ferry. “I think I left my heart
in Llanwrtyd Wells, Wales, which is the tiniest town in Britain
and also the home of the World Bog-Snorkeling Championship and the
Man v. Horse Marathon. Sadly, neither of those was happening when
I was there.” Outside of class Schranz continues to do programming
at DOC Films, where last year she organized a series on Steve Buscemi
and another on contemporary silent film.
Julio
Chavezmontes
Mexico City
Like many Chicago upperclassmen before
him, Julio Chavezmontes splits his time between books and
bars. On the former topic Chavezmontes notes, “I read
a lot for school. I think it is safe to say that a lot just
sticks with you. I definitely think Marx is onto something.
I would say that The Communist Manifesto is interesting,
but that’s what everybody says. I happen to like The
German Ideology better.” Other authors the history
concentrator favors: Rousseau, Adorno, Lukacs, and Brecht.
His free time, he says, is spent “becoming a regular
at the local bars.” He observes, “I’ve made
a lot of good friends here. Teachers are good, but some are
cooler than others. Like there is a former professor of mine
I happen to see a lot in bars—that’s pretty cool.
I have a pretty good social life. I don’t have a love
affair with the Reg.” The walls in Chavezmontes’s
fifth-floor Broadview single are empty save an African mask
and the ubiquitous Doc Films schedule. On his wrist he wears
three watches: one set to Swiss time, so he won’t miss
an appointment to call his mother; another to Mexico City
time, where he must call his grandmother; and the third set
to Chicago time, lest he miss last call.
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Ashley
White-Stern
Jamaica Plain, Massachusetts
When Ashley White-Stern wanders through Hyde
Park, she reads the politics of the landscape. White-Stern is a
founding member of the Angels of Def student group, which formed
last year as an independent study of the University’s interactions
with the surrounding community. Last spring the group hosted a speaker
series, bringing prominent South Siders to campus, and this April
it teamed up with the Center for the Study of Race, Politics, and
Culture to hold the Cityspace conference at International House,
opening its discussions to the larger community. Her final paper
for the independent study explored the history of the Midway Plaisance.
“It’s a landscape that reflects power and ideological
changes,” she notes. “When I first arrived, it was a
no-man’s-land; students were warned against going there alone.
Now there are efforts to rewrite it, and it’s fascinating
to see how they affect the people who live on both sides of it.”
The cinema & media studies concentrator has also found inspiration
in recent classes on Spike Lee and on black women filmmakers. “So
much responsibility is put on these African American directors to
represent an entire race,” she reflects, “and there
are so few of them.” Last summer she received a Mellon research
fellowship to study African American representation in Hollywood
film during the past decade, a project she’ll complete this
summer. Fresh from a quarter-long leave of absence—used to
catch up on past-due papers—White-Stern no longer feels burnt
out by the College’s academic rigor. “It’s great
to be back in class,” she says. “I’m excited again.”
Quan
Le
Los Angeles
This is Quan Le’s last quarter in
“the boy’s club,” the Lambda Phi Epsilon
fraternity house where he’s lived since second year.
Le and his girlfriend have talked about moving in together
this summer (much to her mother’s chagrin) and possibly
next year. “I’m starting to feel full of responsibility,”
he says. “I don’t feel so involved with the University
world.” Le is applying to Chicago’s new Urban
Teacher Education Program, a 15-month master’s in education
course that begins during fourth-year and allows students
to earn K–9 teaching certification in Illinois. Perhaps
most among the seven students (except for Maras, a South Side
native), the Los Angeles–born Le considers himself a
Chicagoan now, spending lots of time on the North Side and
downtown. “I like to get absorbed in the culture of
a place,” he says. “I know my highways and streets
now. I won’t get lost.” A favorite hangout for
him and his friends is a Popeyes fried- chicken joint in the
River East neighborhood, where they go to movies. This year
Le completed the requirements for his philosophy concentration
and has dabbled in the visual arts, taking studio courses
in sculpture, photography, and painting.
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Carlos
Grenier
Miami
My initial impressions,” Carlos Grenier
writes via e-mail from Greece early in spring quarter, “are
almost entirely positive. I love it here; I love the classes, the
fast-paced schedule, the people I am with, and Greece in general.”
Athens itself, however, is “hectic, smoggy, crowded,”
and discounting the Acropolis, he notes, the city is “composed
entirely of uniform five- to seven-story concrete apartment buildings,
either white or grayed by soot. But it’s not all bad: it’s
a good antidote to U of C life, I think, since as a whole it’s
pretty relaxed.” Photographed in the kitchen of his three-bedroom
57th Street apartment shortly before leaving for Greece, Grenier
chose to include the guitar he regretted excluding from his first-year
photo. “I’m still playing guitar and still enjoying
it. Not that I hope to ever do anything with this skill. It’s
just a wonderful way to relax and pass the time.” As for the
painting, “I’m not really a painter,” he writes.
“I decided to try it out this summer, and I enjoyed it (not
producing anything of lasting value), and since then I have, in
manic (& ill-advised) creative bursts, painted a few things
that I do kind of like.” This summer the biology concentrator
will work in Assistant Professor Bruce Lahn’s brain genetics
lab.
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