Playing on buckets seems too unsophisticated to be worthy of anything at first, and I'm sure I thought as much when I first saw it happen. It must've been 10 years ago, and I probably was window shopping on State Street or walking through the subway tunnel at Jackson on my way back from the Loop.
If there's only one or two players, their banging seems cute. But once four or more of them start drumming in that perfect unison, you realize these kids are crazy talented.
Still, thousands of Chicagoans shuffle past the Bucket Boys every day without noticing all the hours they've clearly put into perfecting their skills. A few people might stop and stare, maybe donate a little something. But the majority hurry past as if the boys were overgrown pigeons.
Maybe it's because the Bucket Boys are young; Bucket Men with silvery hair might enjoy a bit more dignity. Maybe it's because banging out a rhythm on an everyday item is something at least half of us have done.
Or maybe it's because the boys beating on buckets have black faces and are from the Side-Which-Must-Not-Be-Named. Maybe seeing black boys as nuisances has become the MO for so many people that they're incapable of seeing the group in any other light, even when they're doing something unique and rare. Sub in a few wholesome boys, add some trash cans and a little choreography, and the new, improved Bucket Boys could have their own show at the Oriental.
As iconic as the Bucket Boys are to the city, many aren't actually licensed to play in the street and in subway stations, which is why they regularly have to avoid being caught by the cops. An ordinance restricting where and when street performers are permitted passed in 2009, meaning that in the middle of a year in which 459 people were killed, the City Council in its gentle wisdom thought it a good idea to go after at-risk kids and other street performers just trying to make a clean buck by entertaining strangers. City leaders really kicked the bucket on that one, morally speaking.
Truth is, Chicago needs its Bucket Boys as physical and audible proof that black boys aren't just a police statistic. And they might finally be getting their due.
Though a Kickstarter campaign failed to reach the $25,000 funding target filmmakers Jarrell and Jerome Lucas set to finish their Bucket Boys documentary, the twin brothers from Roseland told me the project is nearly completed. The brothers, who began their filmmaking careers producing music videos for hip-hop and R&B artists, pay the Bucket Boys every time they film them doing their thing.
"People admire them because they get out in all weather and do it as a job, using their God-given skill to make a living," Jerome Lucas said of what led him and his brother to showcase the artists. The documentary promises to capture a tiny morsel of this city that's normally dissed by most of its residents, and the brothers still are seeking donations to cover costs and add a few finishing touches
Some residents of the Near North Side, a favorite area for the Bucket Boys to work, constantly complain about their noise. Former Ald. Burton Natarus (42nd), whose ward included much of the area, once told the City Council that the people living there deserve "a little peace and quiet."
I get the loud part somewhat, but the banging has become just another precious contribution to Chicago's ambience. Lord knows the "L" is way louder, as are the city's festivals, parades and marches. Still, the Cubbies will win the World Series before I suggest we get rid of those either.
So the next time you see those boys banging away, give yourself a minute to appreciate what it is they're doing and what they mean to this city.
And give them a dollar-at least.
Hector Luis Alamo Jr. is a RedEye special contributor.