In the ever-evolving world of TikTok trends, a song can suddenly explode into ubiquity, soundtracking countless videos and capturing the collective consciousness. In early February, that song was End of Beginning by Djo. While the very definition of “viral” can be subjective and algorithm-dependent, the sheer number of videos utilizing this track suggests it resonated deeply with a wide audience, including myself. My personal feed became flooded with content set to this captivating tune, making it feel undeniably viral.
This track isn’t just another catchy melody; End of Beginning delves into the profound impact a city can have on an individual, specifically focusing on the unique allure of Chicago. Djo, the band behind the song, is fronted by Joe Keery, recognizable to many as Steve Harrington from Stranger Things. Keery’s connection to Chicago is personal, having attended Depaul University in the city. This lived experience undoubtedly informs the song’s evocative lyrics and emotional core.
Soon after its initial surge, my “For You Page” became awash with videos pairing End of Beginning with visuals of downtown Chicago. These clips, often showcasing the city’s iconic skyline, bustling streets, and familiar landmarks, perfectly complemented the song’s poignant chorus:
And when I’m back in Chicago, I feel it
Another version of me, I was in it
I wave goodbye to the end of beginning.
Watching these videos, a wave of emotion washed over me. Despite the imminence of a trip home for February break, a distinct feeling of homesickness arose. For context, I grew up in Wilmette, a suburb of Chicago nestled approximately 20 miles north of the city center on the shores of Lake Michigan – arguably the greatest of the Great Lakes, a point I stand firmly by. While suburban life differs from the urban experience, this TikTok trend and this particular Chicago Song struck a deep chord within me.
My formative years were initially spent within Chicago city limits until the age of three and a half, before my family relocated to the suburbs. However, my connection to the city remained strong. Childhood memories are filled with explorations of downtown Chicago, the thrill of baseball games, and discoveries in local shops.
Later, in my senior year of high school, I further solidified my bond with the city by enrolling in a semester-long course dedicated to Chicago History. This academic deep dive into the city’s past only intensified my appreciation for its rich and complex narrative.
And speaking of Chicago’s narrative, if you’re ever seeking a dramatic recounting of the Great Chicago Fire, I pride myself on delivering a particularly engaging rendition – dare I say, it’s fire? The resilience of Chicago is truly remarkable. Just twenty-two years after a significant portion of downtown was ravaged by flames, the city triumphantly hosted the 1893 World’s Columbian Exposition. This event was a massive undertaking and a testament to Chicago’s spirit, drawing over 27 million visitors in just six months. Chicago is undeniably a cultural epicenter, a mosaic of distinct neighborhoods, each contributing its unique chapter to the city’s ongoing story.
This burgeoning understanding of Chicago’s history and my deep-seated affection for the city reached its peak precisely when college applications were looming. This begs the question: how did someone so enamored with Chicago end up pursuing higher education in Maine?
Despite my profound love for Chicago, a desire for independence and a fresh environment led me to seek a college experience far from home and my familiar high school surroundings. I was ready to embrace something entirely new.
Make no mistake, I am incredibly happy at Bates College. However, the pangs of homesickness are inevitable, a sentiment I believe resonates with most college students. There’s a unique comfort in driving down familiar streets like Sheridan Road, navigating the aisles of my local Jewel-Osco grocery store, and indulging in regional culinary staples like Italian beef and cheese curds. These are simple pleasures that are geographically out of reach while at school. While Portland offers its own charms – drives with friends, Shaw’s supermarket, and Aroma Joe’s coffee – it’s not quite the same as home. Sometimes, a whimsical wish to channel Dorothy and click my heels three times to transport myself back to Chicago surfaces.
There are moments when I yearn to share anecdotes about Chicago, Wilmette, or the North Shore, only to be met with blank stares. This isn’t a fault of my Bates peers; I value the diverse tapestry of backgrounds that Bates fosters, bringing together individuals from across the globe. However, my Chicago-centric references often fall flat. Jokes about Illinois politicians or enthusiastic mentions of local restaurants don’t elicit the knowing nods of recognition I’m accustomed to at home.
In a way, I feel a sense of unique identity as part of the relatively small percentage – approximately 7% – of Midwestern students at Bates. Beyond the minor thrill of feeling distinctive, it provides opportunities to introduce others to a place I hold dear.
Our origins profoundly shape who we are. There’s an inherent ease in connecting with people who share a similar background, a comfort in unspoken understandings. During summer breaks, a parallel feeling of longing for Bates emerges. I miss the college environment and eagerly anticipate returning.
The bridge of End of Beginning poignantly repeats the line, You take the man out of the city, not the city out the man. This lyric encapsulates the enduring influence of Chicago.
Although geographically removed, Chicago remains an integral part of my identity. So much of who I am is intrinsically linked to the city. It took some time to fully appreciate the depth of my affection for my hometown. My high school environment, characterized by competitiveness and a preppy culture, never quite aligned with my personality. I was so focused on planning my escape that I overlooked the inherent privilege of growing up in such a wonderful place. I genuinely love where I come from! I cherish the sight of houses aglow with winter lights against a snowy backdrop, the tree-lined streets in warmer seasons, and the refreshing coolness of Lake Michigan.
I deeply value my friendships forged in Chicago, the bonds of shared experiences and growing up together. I love being from the Chicago suburbs. There’s an unmatched feeling of driving along Lake Shore Drive into the city on a bright summer day.
The true depth of my appreciation for home only surfaced upon leaving. In a sense, I had “paved my paradise and put up a parking lot,” echoing Joni Mitchell’s famous lyrics. I craved change, or at least I believed I did. My hometown and the surrounding area provided an exceptional environment to grow up in. Venturing off to college is inherently daunting when compared to the comfort and familiarity of home.
When I’m back in Chicago, I feel it.
Returning home from college shifts my perspective. I no longer take my time there for granted. I make a conscious effort to drive into the city as frequently as possible, whether to reconnect with friends or simply to soak in the breathtaking skyline. I make pilgrimages to my beloved restaurants – Portillo’s, Culver’s, and Walker Brothers. I visit the lakefront and drive past the iconic Home Alone House. Evenings are filled with card games and puzzles with family. I prioritize time with friends, catching up on the threads of our lives. I actively engage in all the things I miss so acutely when I’m away.
Another version of me, I was in it.
Despite striving for consistency in my self-perception, I recognize subtle shifts in my persona between my college life at Bates and my life at home in Chicago. Neither version is inherently superior or inferior, simply distinct. My speech patterns, wardrobe choices, and leisure activities all differ between Lewiston and Chicago.
I wave goodbye to the end of beginning.
Home represents my childhood, the foundation of who I am. As I matured, I naturally evolved, becoming a new iteration of myself. Each return home is a brief reconnection with past versions of myself before I revert to my present identity. Each departure from O’Hare Airport feels like waving goodbye to my “beginning.” Leaving for college marked the end of that chapter. There’s a bittersweet sentimentality to this realization. I hold cherished memories of my childhood and teenage years in Wilmette. It’s truly a special place to grow up. I will forever treasure memories of life in Chicago – trips downtown to my dad’s office, leisurely strolls along the Riverwalk or Michigan Avenue, and explorations of the city’s museums.
To truly grasp Chicago’s essence, you have to experience it firsthand. The city possesses a certain magic, an intangible quality that sets it apart. It’s distinct from New York or Los Angeles, and it has no desire to emulate them. Chicago is resolutely itself, and this authenticity extends to its people. Life moves at a slightly more relaxed pace, and the Midwestern politeness is a genuine and consistent bright spot.
Chicago transcends the definition of a mere city; it’s an immersive experience. I feel incredibly fortunate to have it as my origin. You can take me out of Chicago, but you can’t take Chicago out of me. And this Chicago song, “End of Beginning,” perfectly encapsulates that feeling.
