Claudia Galeno-Sánchez, a Mexican immigrant mother, recalls thinking it would be just another night at her home in Pilsen when she suddenly heard her daughter crying in the backyard. The whispers of an approaching storm also took her by surprise.

When she opened the door, she found her daughter, Claudia Bicchieri, shielding a caterpillar as she begged her to bring it inside.

As Galeno-Sánchez tried to dissuade her from taking it inside the home, her daughter yelled:  “The storm is coming! We have to save it.”

Like that caterpillar, Galeno-Sánchez remembers feeling trapped once.

Without documents, she had to cross the border from Mexico to the United States, hidden in a car trunk. Shortly after she settled in the U.S., her father passed away. 

“I was like in a cage, unable to go back to Mexico, unable to cross borders, without the freedom to return to my country,” Galeno-Sánchez said.

Similar to the caterpillar, Galeno-Sanchez survived the storm. 

After being cared for and fed by mother and daughter, the caterpillar transformed into the first Black Swallowtail butterfly in Galeno-Sánchez’s backyard. 

Although she didn’t know it at the time, this was the first step in her mission to bring more green spaces to Pilsen and Little Village, through a grant from the Chicago Department of Public Health.

“Its wings give it the freedom to go, travel, across borders, across countries,” said Galeno-Sánchez, describing the monarch butterflies–a symbol for millions of Mexican migrants. 

After raising the butterfly with her daughter, Galeno-Sánchez was determined to help save more, It was then when she created a sanctuary in her backyard. 

She began learning about butterflies and native plants through workshops at the “El Valor Guadalupe Reyes Children & Family Center,” where her children started their early education, said Galeno-Sánchez.

Step by step, she started collecting eggs, planting more plants and hosting caterpillars. Her goal was to create “a space where butterflies could emerge” in her backyard as a way to teach her children about nature during the pandemic.

Since they couldn’t leave the house during that period, she began asking her neighbors to bring her the plants and tools necessary to create her sanctuary. 

Word spread, and soon, more community members joined the initiative. Together, they learned not only about butterflies but about the native plants that are a key element in the migratory route of the monarch butterfly to Mexico.

Today, that group of motivated neighbors now goes by the name of Mujeres Por Espacios Verdes or Women for Green Spaces, in English. The organization began as a project through the women’s committee at Working Family Solidarity (WFS), a Chicago-based non-profit. 

The group aims to “unite low-income women of color” to expand green spaces in neighborhoods like Pilsen and Little Village, to improve local environmental conditions and save endangered species.

“Pilsen is in urgent need. It needs a lot of reforestation, like other areas,” said Bertha Ontiveros, a Pilsen resident and member of Mujeres Por Espacios Verdes. 

She recalled how Galeno-Sanchez “drives” the other members of the community to keep fostering change by hosting workshops to teach others about native plants and the importance of green spaces in the community, said Ontiveros. 

“It’s hard and sad to say, but butterfly species, bird species and many other animal species are disappearing,” Galeno-Sánchez said. 

To combat this, the organization plants native trees in Pilsen, Little Village and Back of the Yards. The trees are essential for the survival of these species, especially plants like milkweed, which butterflies need to lay their eggs and caterpillars need to feed on, said Galeno-Sánchez.

Winifred Curran, a professor at DePaul University specializing in Geography, Geographic Information Systems and Sustainable Urban Development, said native plants don’t require much work compared to non-native plants. 

They don’t need as much water or pesticides, and they’re non-invasive, so they can coexist easily with other plants, and have a better chance of survival in the green spaces, she said.

The green spaces not only support the environment, but the community as well, said Galeno-Sanchez. 

Mujeres por Espacios Verdes has held workshops with students in Pilsen at Orozco Academy and Peter Cooper Public School, to raise awareness about the importance of native plants. Often, these students, along with their mothers and neighbors, help plant the native plants donated by the organization. 

But, to expand these workshops to more schools, as Galeno-Sánchez dreams, they need more experts to lead the workshops and a bigger budget, she said. 

“I want to help care for nature. I want to help leave them– their children, their grandchildren–, a world with more trees, a world with more flowers, more plants,” Galeno-Sánchez said.

Since trees and green spaces are more scarce in neighborhoods like Pilsen and Little Village, they need more resources compared to other “wealthier” areas in Chicago.

“Pilsen and Little Village have been forgotten, in a way, by the city. They’ve been forgotten by the park district,” Galeno-Sánchez said.

Due to the availability of factory jobs, these areas have historically been “industrial neighborhoods” and “ports for immigrants,” and the working class, said Curran. 

For that reason, there’s a legacy of contaminated water, soil, and air, with harmful effects on the health of its residents that continues today, Curran said.

Tree planting alleviates many of these environmental consequences, said Curran. It benefits physical and mental health, reduces pollution, helps lower urban temperatures and cleans the air to combat asthma– a common illness in these communities. 

Raed Mansour, Director of the Office of Innovation at the Chicago Department of Public Health (CDPH), said historic redlining has hindered environmental development in these neighborhoods. However, he is optimistic about positive change.

“It takes a while to right these wrongs, but we’re getting there, one neighborhood at a time,” said Mansour.

While she believes in the need for change, Curran said she fears that if it comes from the city, the investment could bring gentrification.

With environmental gentrification, any investment in the community could potentially lead to rising property values and the displacement of long-time residents. Therefore, “decision-making must come from the community level,” said Curran. 

“The people who have been affected should decide the best way to solve these problems. It can’t be a one-size-fits-all response dictated by the city,” Curran said.

This year, Galeno-Sánchez was selected as a “Tree Ambassador,” which gave her access to a $14,000 grant from the city– the largest she’s received thus far from any donor. 

The Chicago Department of Public Health in collaboration with The Morton Arboretum’s Chicago Region Trees Initiative (CRTI), are providing training and tools to members of historically tree-deprived communities so that they can mark up to 100 green spaces on public property, said Melinda Escobar, Tree Ambassador Program Specialist.

The program aims to plant 75,000 trees in five years, Mansour said.

For him, it’s key that community members–who know their neighborhoods intimately–carry out the project and shape their home as they see fit. 

“This is not a city program where it’s done to the community or for the community; it’s done with the community,” Mansour said.

Galeno-Sánchez said with this grant, she’s also been able to provide stipends to volunteer neighbors and members of Mujeres Por Espacios Verdes who have helped her in her mission to find 100 new green spaces.

In the future, through the new green spaces, Galeno-Sánchez hopes to create jobs for community members, so they can afford to stay in neighborhoods currently affected by high property taxes.   

“This project wouldn’t exist without all the help the people, the community, have given us,” she said.

Galeno-Sanchez has already found 70 green spaces. Though trees take time to grow, and fewer monarch butterflies depart from her sanctuary each year, she said she remains hopeful that the trees and native plants in her community help the next generation of butterflies thrive. 

She hopes the colors on the wings she saw fly for the first time will still be imprinted on next year’s butterflies, even after she is no longer there to see them off.

“When I die, I will return in the form of a butterfly,” said Galeno-Sanchez, to her children.

“Mama, I’m going to help you keep planting trees. I’m going to help you keep planting plants,” her youngest son, Leone Bicchieri, replied.

“There will always be butterflies, and I will always be with you,” Galeno-Sánchez said to her son.