An American Summer: Love and Death in Chicago

by Alex Kotlowitz

Many of the men wear shorts and T-shirts, a statement of defiance. Whatever status you hold on the streets is stripped from you here. Whatever your history, it’s erased. Whatever your aspirations, no one cares. They say it’s a place where justice is served. But justice too often feels arbitrary. Like a game of craps. You enter this building, and whatever control you had in your day-to-day existence is lost. The judges, the prosecutors, the deputy sheriffs, the public defenders, are intently focused not necessarily on you but on getting through the day without too much going wrong.