If you walk/drive around the West and South sides — talk to some folk — you’ll realize a shift.
A shift in thought, shift in belief, shift in hope.
The shift rests in the arm, feet and execution of Justin Fields. Of his growth, ability to win games he didn’t last season, to become our Jalen Hurts. It extends into the on- and off-the-field changes the Bears have made during the offseason and in recent years. But, to a degree, the low-key origin of the shift rests in the quiet reconnection the Bears’ organization has made in the communities that have felt neglected by them for decades.
And how that change birthed change. As a Bears employee beautifully stated to me last week: ‘‘It’s about putting together a great product on the field and understanding the responsibility that comes along with that.’’
Great responsibility that comes with the power the Bears flex in this city has been a quiet part of the revolution and evolution of change from within. A change in mentality, a change in outlook. A change in lanes.
Pudding: They’ve become the first and only team in NFL history to have an African American CEO, general manager and starting quarterback at the same time. Only the Washington Commanders have two of those executive spots filled with someone non-White.
Add on: The Bears have found a way to distance themselves from the quasi-racist ideologies of Mike Ditka without ever having to make a public statement using the words ‘‘distancing ourselves’’ in any formal or continued way. They’ve made us believe that the next time a superstar player with the All-Pro stature of Brandon Marshall speaks his truth about what he knows is the truth, they’ll hear it differently and not handle a similar situation as if they’re choosing sides that marred the privilege of race, position and contract. That Alan Williams (defensive coordinator), Richard Hightower (special-teams cooordinator) and the 10 other coaches of color on staff (including Kenny Norton III on the coaching administration side) get treated a little better than Lovie Smith and afforded the same chances to fail as Marc Trestman, John Fox and Matt Nagy.
They simply seem less McCaskey. Less Halas. Less the old way and way more self-claimed representatives of the makeup and functionality of the entire city, as opposed to just another family-owned and run team in the NFL.
Does the hiring of Ryan Poles and Kevin Warren help? Most definitely. Does the BUILD Chicago program, being at the forefront of girls flag football at the CPS level or the inclusion of a Manager of Brand & Influencer Marketing who relates and engages with the community in ways the organization hasn’t in the past — even without gen-pop’s knowledge of the makeup of who the people behind those programs and initiatives are — help? For damn sure. Because even without being seen, it’s felt. From all on the outside looking in. Judging, gauging, assessing why in this moment — why this year? — their connection with this team feels different. While the figures may be hidden, the lane change ain’t.
It’s the hiring of Ashton Washington as the team’s first full-time female scout. It’s having Carla Suber and Mike Wiley Jr. as the faces of the Bears’ internal approach to mental health. It’s the rejuvenated prioritizing of community-based projects, such as the Players Social Justice Fund, that has become commonplace. It’s bringing in Tanesha Wade last year as the team’s senior vice president of DEI and putting her on the team’s leadership committee of hiring a new GM and head coach, if and when that time comes.
And the result of those processes and actions across the board have trickled down to the ’hood. South Side. West Side. Pilsen. Altgeld. Lawndale. Bars, barbershops, backyards, boardrooms. Connectivity and authenticity. Both underrated in the pathology of a team rebuild in sports. The Bears’ internal rebuild has bred optimism in the communities that for years have felt overlooked, taken for granted or not considered when it comes to being core in the Bears’ fan base.
Asked in an online interview last week, outside of winning a Super Bowl, what were the top three priorities on his ‘‘to get done’’ list, Warren’s reply after stating what No. 1 and No. 2 were was this: ‘‘And No. 3 is having the impact of the Chicago Bears in the Chicago community tangibly change lives for individuals in a positive manner through our charitable and community initiatives.’’
At The Family Den on Stony Island, a historic lounge that has, over the years, become cityside famous for its Bears game-day events during the football season, a new sense of pride has ascended.
Bears games will mean something in a way they haven’t in the last 15-plus years. As one fan inside put it to me succinctly: ‘‘The Bears are different. They ain’t the same organization of the past.’’
Faith runs deep here. Runs deep all over the city. For different reasons, for deeper reasons. This new buy-in to change from within of the Bears seems to be real. The city feels it. Let’s just hope the results of that new faith we have in them also shows up on the field.
