These tour guides are fighting segregation in Chicago. Here’s how you can too.
He towered over the packed bus, standing well over 6 feet, with a head full of locks and a purple shirt proudly boasting “Chicagoan” on his chest.
“You’re getting an official Mahogany tour because the bus pulled up late,” Shermann “Dilla” Thomas joked with the crowd of onlookers.
The Mahogany Bus Tour is an initiative created by TikTok star, community historian and cultural worker Thomas to encourage natives, transplants and tourists to move beyond their screens, off their blocks and into Chicago’s diverse communities. Thomas, a South Side native, shines a light on the rich history of Chicago’s neighborhoods that is often skipped over by the tourism industry.
On a Saturday in May, the North Lawndale tour bus rolled to a stop behind the Douglass Park field house and an eclectic crowd eagerly climbed aboard. One ticket-holder wore a tweed jacket with collegiate elbow patches. Another had bright pink hair and a rainbow belt. According to Thomas, the tours attract some tourists and community members, but their most consistent customers are white suburbanites.
He greeted the crowd with the same charisma and enthusiasm he displays on his widely popular social media channels. With over 100,000 followers on TikTok and over 8 million views, Thomas has amassed a community of supporters invested in his telling of Chicago history. This support has led him to appearances on the “Today” show and “The Kelly Clarkson Show,” along with guest lectures at the University of Chicago, Northwestern University and a number of partners at the City Colleges of Chicago network.
In addition to his Mahogany tours, Thomas also helps conduct Disrupting Segregation Tours with Tonika Johnson, another influential Chicagoan working to interrupt the legacy of segregation that still affects local communities. Johnson is a photographer, a social justice artist and an Englewood native. She is also co-founder of the Englewood Arts Collective and Resident Association of Greater Englewood, which “seek to reframe the narrative of South Side communities, and mobilize people and resources for positive change.”
One of Johnson’s most widely regarded initiatives is The Folded Map Project, designed to encourage individuals who live at the same address on opposite sides of Chicago’s grid system to meet and share experiences. Following the success of that project, Johnson created the Folded Map Project Action Kit to lead people to perform everyday tasks, such as buying soap or getting cash from an ATM, in different Chicago neighborhoods as an act of racial healing.
Johnson and Thomas partner with Chicago’s Office of Equity and Racial Justice to offer the Disrupting Segregation Tours in Englewood and Lincoln Park. On those tours, Thomas focuses on the history of Englewood while Johnson points out houses that were dilapidated or “totally gone” due to contract buying.
“Once you learn about the history of a place, it increases the value that you feel about that place, and it can make you question the things that you hear about it,” Johnson said. “That’s the aligned value system that Dilla and I have that made it such an easy partnership.”
As the Mahogany tour bus wound its way through the narrow North Lawndale streets, Thomas pointed out the surrounding beauty. He detailed the unique brickwork of the Sears Roebuck YMCA. He described the “amazing,” short-lived pre-Depression era greystones that lined city blocks.
However, amid the beauty, he didn’t hesitate to discuss what had been left behind. “The reason the space like the one we’re riding through now has all these vacant lots is because of restrictive racial covenants, redlining, disinvestment, contract buying, the city saying ‘F you’, white flight and also gang violence. I tell that story,” Thomas said. “And if, in hearing that complete story, that makes you want to advocate for restorative justice because of redlining, if it makes you want to get shorties out of the street because of the current gangbanging, if it makes you proud that your heritage comes to this space so you want to spend money here, all that works for me. I’m just trying to tell the story.”
While the two-hour outing is heavily grounded in the history of Chicago’s communities, Thomas also incorporates his personal experiences. When discussing the lack of access to banks and financial education in Black communities, he recounts losing his first job at McDonald’s after his car broke down and he couldn’t get a loan to repair it. When describing community efforts to rename a high school named for Chief Justice John Marshall, who notably owned slaves, not only did he reference textbook knowledge of the community’s relationship with the name, he also recalled being shot down by “75-year-old Black dudes” in his efforts to change it.
“I’ve never enjoyed being cursed out more in my life,” he said, noting that “change should come when the community wants to change, not from others.”
Mahogany Tours isn’t limited to North Lawndale. Other neighborhoods include Bronzeville, Englewood, Chatham, Pullman/Roseland and Bridgeport/Stockyard. Dates and reservations are at chicagomahogany.com.
For the North Lawndale tour, South Shore native Latoya Howery brought her grade-school-age daughter, coincidentally named Mahogany. “When I was growing up, I literally just knew about the South Side of Chicago, and only knew about the blocks or neighborhoods that I lived in,” Howery said. “So because I’m South Side, her dad’s West Side, (we’re) bringing her so she can learn about both sides of town. ... There’s so much history that we didn’t know anything about.”
As far as pushback on the efforts, Thomas says he sees less opposition to the tours themselves than to the content he chooses to highlight. Attendees often want to direct the tour discussion toward the prevalence of gangs and drugs in Chicago’s communities.
“I’m totally OK with talking about (the fact that) we need to resolve contemporary gang issues,” he said. “But the conversation has to start with: You can’t create Chicago gangs in integrated neighborhoods. All of those street gangs got created in segregated neighborhoods. How do I know? Look at the names: Latin Kings — that got started in a Latin neighborhood. Black Disciples — what does that mean? Black neighborhood. That tells me that Chicago segregation helped play a part in the formation of the gangs. So, if we’re not starting the conversation there, then how can we talk about fixing the problem?”
Johnson noted two sources of hesitancy when launching the Folded Map Action Kit: one common among white suburbanites, and the other among Black residents of the South and West sides.
“When I introduced the action kit, people thought, ‘Oh, you just want white people to visit Black neighborhoods.’ And so when people say that, I use them saying that as a perfect demonstration of, ‘That’s exactly what segregation does.’ It makes you not even think about the learning that Black people can get,” she said. “There are Black people who are advocating for resources in their neighborhood and they don’t know that it literally exists in another neighborhood. If it can be done in a neighborhood not far, you can use that as a way to advocate for what you’re entitled to. And it can inspire you to make you want to understand how and why. Why are you all able to have this? What is your alderman doing? Or, why are these businesses not looking into our neighborhoods? It’s learning both ways.”
Johnson said that another barrier that interferes with individuals visiting the South and West sides is the fact that the historically Black and brown neighborhoods are “for the most part, residential.” So, if folks don’t know anyone in those communities, they won’t visit unless they’re volunteering.
“How you enter a neighborhood ultimately influences how you visit,” Johnson said. “So I tell people these neighborhoods are not a monolith. Englewood is not a monolith. You might feel: I don’t want to be extractive so I’m going to go and volunteer and do something. Who you meet when you go and volunteer might not be the full representation of that neighborhood. It’s not to minimize who you encounter, but it’s still not the full representation. There’s nothing extractive about going to a grocery store that has people who are different from you because you’re equal — you’re both shopping. You can learn while you’re meeting people who are doing the same things that you’re doing.”
People who take the tour might wonder what’s next.
Johnson says sometimes the tour is enough. “It sounds crazy to say but that’s it. That’s all I want you to do,” she said. “As a society, we create these expectations and action steps. But we don’t give space or grace to just learning because the urgency is so real. We want to ask: What can we do? What can we do? What can we do? What we can do is just focus on taking your time learning. That’s enough and that’s transformative alone.”
However, if someone would like action items, Thomas and the Folded Map Action Kit offer some next steps.
At least once per month, spend $25 in a neighborhood that you don’t live or work in. Complete the Folded Map Action Kit. Continue engaging with Chicago’s history via Thomas’ accounts on Instagram, Twitter and TikTok.
With a few of these lessons in hand, the passengers packed up their belongings and began to head off the bus, with some stopping to buy an “Everything Dope Comes From Chicago” T-shirt. Meanwhile, Thomas still proudly displayed “Chicagoan” on his chest. And as he turned to wave goodbye to the exiting passengers, the back of his shirt was revealed: “Till Chicago Ends.”
