A ‘Better Loyola’ is a Worse Rogers Park

On the fences surrounding the recently-demolished Centennial Forum, accompanied by the seemingly never ending screeches and clangs of demolition, are signs displaying the university’s latest mission statement — “Building a Better Loyola.” 

This supposedly better Loyola is outlined in the new campus plan released Sept. 4, a document which describes Loyola’s plans for renovations and demolitions over the course of the next decade. Among other proposals, the plan details intentions to expand residence halls and build new science buildings, demolishing buildings that are “outdated,” and “challenging to renovate to meet today’s and future needs.” 

These somewhat vague and deliberately noncommittal inner-campus ventures, however, are far less concerning than their proposed plans for the community. 

Although none of the suggested neighborhood developments have set timelines, the plan details “Streetscape Improvements” on Loyola Avenue, Rosemont Avenue, Winthrop Avenue and North Sheridan Road. It also cites 1234 W. Loyola Ave. as a “potential building site” for residential and recreational use and 6300 N. Broadway — currently Vedgewater Community Garden — as the location of a “future campus building.” 

These seeming community enhancements are part of Loyola’s investment in “urban context advertising,” The Phoenix reported. They’re also meant to “bring the beauty of campus to the community,” according to page nine of the Campus Plan.

Even if these objectives are in the best interest of students, what it fails to recognize is the best interest of the community. Rogers Park was — and still is — beautiful without Loyola’s relentless acquisition and renovation of local properties.

Loyola leases over 30 commercial properties and 500 market rate residential apartment units, The Phoenix previously reported. These acquisitions have often created outrage in community members, as community groups protested the demolition of buildings on North Kenmore Avenue in 2018 and many expressed concern over university interest in the St. Ignatius campus in 2022.

The latest manifestation of years-long community ire with Loyola’s expansion is protest over the planned demolition of 1234 W. Loyola Ave., which houses beloved local businesses, art nonprofit RomanSusan and 23 residential tenants. Alderwoman Maria Hadden (49th), Preservation Chicago and State Senator Mike Simmons have all spoken out in support of protecting the building. 

Community outrage over Loyola’s proposed demolition of the building is furthered by their failure to develop empty lots they own on Loyola Avenue and North Broadway. The new campus plan claims property not immediately used for construction after demolition — such as Centennial Forum and Coffey Hall — will be turned into greenspace, The Phoenix reported. 

While this is a nice sentiment, decades-long vacancies in the existing lots either make this promise difficult to believe or demonstrate the university’s prioritization of on-campus renovation over existing neighborhood properties. 

Loyola’s attainment of Rogers Park properties — whether demolished or unused — has contributed to ongoing issues of displacement and gentrification on Chicago’s far North side. 

While residential and commercial spaces west of North Broadway are “At Risk of Becoming Exclusive,” lakeside properties north of West Sheridan Road are subject to “Ongoing Displacement,” and the area between West Sheridan Road and West Ardmore Avenue is subject to “Early/Ongoing Gentrification,” according to the Urban Displacement Project. 

The university is a massive institution with a net worth of almost $2 billion, of which over $1 billion of the value was held in owned property as of 2022, The Phoenix previously reported. This makes it by far the most powerful and prominent establishment in Rogers Park, a neighborhood known for its diversity, local businesses and affordable housing. 

Loyola has acknowledged the neighborhood’s “local feel” and its position of power in the area. Its Community Anchor Mission is “a commitment to intentionally apply an institution’s place-based economic power in partnership with community,” by prioritizing collaboration with local organizations “to support the shared goals of our communities.” 

There have been some successes implementing this strategy, as approximately 55% of the businesses Loyola leases to are independent and locally-owned, The Phoenix previously reported. 

Additionally, the 2023 Elevate Devon Corridor Plan — a collaborative project between Loyola, the Edgewater Chamber of Commerce and the Rogers Park Business Alliance — prioritized community outreach and polling to enhance local business and pedestrian accessibility on West Devon Avenue.

These endeavors demonstrate the possibility of community collaboration — and highlight the deliberateness of decisions made without local input. 

Although Loyola held two virtual town hall meetings July 23 and Aug. 6 to initiate the so-called Neighborhood Input Phase of their campus planning process, it seems community qualms brought up in said meetings have been largely overlooked. 

In an interactive map shared with community members, many expressed concern over building demolitions, empty lots and Loyola’s seeming prioritization of on-campus properties over neighborhood ones, especially regarding 1234 W. Loyola Ave., The Phoenix reported.  

The campus plan doesn’t fix — nor does it acknowledge — any of these concerns. In fact the development of 1234 W. Loyola Ave. may not begin for a decade, The Phoenix reported.

If Loyola was truly and unequivocally committed to upholding its Anchor Mission, it wouldn’t be the subject of so much ire. Former tenants wouldn’t feel the need to sue after being evicted. Affected alumni wouldn’t be questioning Loyola’s Jesuit values. Local nonprofits and university faculty wouldn’t feel the need to protest and local government officials wouldn’t feel compelled to get involved. 

More than all of this, students — the one’s technically funding and supposedly benefiting from this campus plan — wouldn’t be so upset. 

There’s a fine line between symbiosis and superimposition. Loyola can’t boast about Rogers Park’s diverse population and local feel while ignoring the community members who embody such treasured and trademarked distinctions.

If Loyola cares about preserving Rogers Park the way it claims to, it’ll re-evaluate their campus plan in conjunction with the community, taking into account their comments and concerns rather than feigning helplessness in the name of ease. The university should trust Rogers Park to flourish as an independent entity intertwined with the university rather than convenient means to commercial ends. 

University administration should think carefully about such a precious resource and build a better Loyola along with a better Rogers Park — a feat that won’t be accomplished by empty lots, fruitless demolitions and the campus plan’s vague list of “Potential Development Sites.”