CITY HALL — With the addition of newly elected members to Chicago’s city council, LGBTQ+ representation is at an all-time high. As the new council session begins, one fifth of council members now identify as LGBTQ+, making the council the “Gayest in the nation,” according to Aiden Davis, 13, a middle schooler bully.
“We’re incredibly proud that a coalition of LGBTQ Chicagoans are finding their voice and representation in this new council,” said Ald. Raymond Lopez, 15th ward. “We look forward to working for Chicago, and ask that Aiden refrain from yelling ‘Gaaaaaaay!’ whenever we speak at meetings.”
Aiden—a 7th grader at Christopher Columbus Middle School who was held back in 6th grade and now lashes out at anyone he perceives as smart or different—has long plagued Chicago city council members.
“I keep telling our new members to not pay him any attention when he acts out,” said Ald. Roderick Sawyer, 6th ward. “Last year he kept knocking all my papers out of my hands whenever he’d see me in the hall. So, I started hiding whenever I saw him coming and now he’s moved on to another target. He craves attention and validation that he’s clearly not getting at home.”
The role of Council Bully was introduced in 1957 as a way to give an outlet to Mayor Daley’s son, William, who would throw rocks at any council members who wore glasses or were Jewish. As the city council convenes with its new members, some have discussed banning Aiden from future meetings.
“One of my first acts as city councilman is going to be issuing a sternly worded resolution to expel Aiden,” said Ald. Bennett Lawson, who is taking his 4th ward seat from retiring Alderman Tom Tunney, the first openly gay Chicago city council member. “I’ve had enough of him walking up to me and asking ‘if I was going home to kiss my boyfriend’ and then walking off laughing when I say ‘he’s my husband, and yes.’ What’s even the joke there, Aiden?”
“I’m against the expulsion of Aiden,” said Ald. Maria Hadden, 49th ward. “He may be a little homophobic shit, but part of our efforts for inclusion and better understanding can start here in our chambers. I dream of a world not without Aiden, but with an Aiden who does chant ‘kiss her!’ when I’m walking with my female colleagues.”
“I’m very excited to work with my LGBTQ peers to come up with new policies and resources for the city’s queer population,” said incoming 4th ward alderman Lamont Robinson, pausing to glare at Aiden’s giggling at the word “queer.”
“No, Aiden doesn’t bother me. When I was in the Illinois House we had this awful kid, Lukas. Every day he’d steal the pudding cup I brought for lunch. Now, that was bullying.”