Midway through Minhail Baig’s WE GROWN NOW, the two black boys that are the story’s central characters joyfully explore The Art Insitute of Chicago. Before the linger in front of Walter Elison’s “Train Station”, it’s fair to say they don’t see themselves depicted in much of the art that has been collected.

Films like WE GROWN NOW are working on changing that – and doing so with heartstopping results.

Set in 1992, this is the story of Malik and Eric (Blake Cameron James and Gian Knight Ramirez) – two young boys living in Chicago’s Cabrini-Green neighbourhood. Growing up together in low-income housing, the two know only the simplest joys: seeing who can jump higher, arguing over which basketball player is better, and staring at the ceiling so intently they see stars.

The film follows them and their families as the community around them finds itself under new pressures from the surrounding city, and wonders aloud how much or how little one needs to truly feel at home.

“A place is its people” Malik says late in the film – a sentiment that is echoed as a dedication right before the credits roll. It seems like the simplest dedication, and yet it can be the easiest thing to forget. Communities like Cabrini-Green are home to hard-working people who look out for each other. They love, and dream, and pray, and pay their way through life just like everyone else in their cities and countries – maybe even harder.

Not only does the film want us to remember this, but it also wants us to consider how much these families have gone through in the search for “home”. Many of the elders took trains from several states south in the search for opportunity and security, and now many have to leave developments to seize opportunity. One could feel like it’s hard to feel a sense of true community when the roots don’t go that deep. However, what WE GROWN NOW understands is that the roots have been augmented, and the family trees canopy extends well beyond the borders of any subdivision, city, or state.

Taking in the stunning look and intricate sound of WE GROWN NOW, one cannot help but think of the great masters of cinema that inspire its rendering. Their names are spoken of with reverie, and whole retrospectives are curated showing off their works. It should be noted that the subjects of the maters don’t often look and sound like the cast of this film – and that is the real value of Minhail Baig’s storytelling. She paints her portraits with every colour on the palette; every brush in the box. She goes beyond the usual trappings of a story set in Cabrini-Green and honours them with loving poetry and prose.

Several times within the film, we listen to Malik and Eric declare “We Exist!” from their apartment balconies out into the Chicago sky. Sometimes it is directed at someone, often it’s directed at no one. It’s what WE GROWN NOW wants the audience to carry away with them (which is to say, it’s directed at us). The people of Cabrini-Green – and all the Cabrini-Greens of the world – they exist. They matter and make the world a better place.

Without such people, there really is no place.