By now, most residents have heard: West Chicago’s backyard chicken ordinance has passed. And in true West Chicago fashion, the feathers are flying—not in coops, but in comment sections.
Let me be very clear: This ordinance was not passed behind closed doors, nor was it quietly slid through. It was the result of one of the most transparent, collaborative, and publicly documented processes this city has seen in recent memory. In fact, it was refreshingly different—a 180 from the kind of policymaking many residents have grown disillusioned with. City leaders actively invited feedback, asked questions, and involved the public at multiple stages.
There were multiple public hearings, each one announced in advance on the City of West Chicago website. Agendas were published and shared widely—not just on the city site, but also submitted to the Daily Herald, published in The West Chicago Voice, and circulated across social media. The Development Committee agenda was covered in full in our paper. In total, The Voice published three or four separate articles on the topic, urging residents to attend meetings, offer input, and make their voices heard.
The opportunities were there. Repeatedly.
This is the reality of the democratic process: If you don’t participate, you don’t get to complain about the outcome. Complaining after the fact—after the votes, after the hearings, after the publication of draft language—is simply too late.
The Plan Commission and Zoning Board of Appeals did not rubber-stamp this. They researched backyard chicken ordinances from seven other communities, comparing what worked and what didn’t. They spoke with residents who had experience raising chickens—including farmers and suburban chicken keepers—and brought those people back for additional meetings as the ordinance was refined. It was deliberate, thoughtful, and informed by real voices from our own community.
And yet now, with the ordinance passed, we’re hearing a wave of fear and misinformation—panic over bird flu, salmonella, and noisy roosters (which, by the way, are not allowed). So let’s set the record straight.
Here’s what the ordinance actually says:
- Roosters are strictly prohibited.
- Residents may keep up to 6 hens per zoning lot.
- Coops must be placed in the backyard, at least 5 feet from all property lines.
- Coops are limited to 199 square feet, with a minimum of 6 square feet per bird.
- Runs must be enclosed and covered, and must face toward the center of the property—not the neighbors.
- No slaughtering or butchering is allowed onsite.
- Feed must be stored in rodent-proof containers.
- Chicken areas must be clean, odor-free, and sanitary at all times.
- Coops must provide proper lighting, ventilation, and protection from predators.
- And let’s be honest: chickens are quieter than many of the dogs in West Chicago.
This ordinance passed unanimously. Every City Council member who was present voted in favor. The only absences were Aldermen Hallett and Swiatek—not a single “no” vote was cast.
So if you’re just now tuning in and upset about the results—you missed your chance to speak up when it mattered most. That’s not harsh—that’s how democracy works. If you don’t participate in shaping policy, you forfeit the right to complain about the results.
Still concerned? Read the ordinance. Don’t rely on social media speculation or neighborly gossip. Get the facts. I’ll include a link at the end of this editorial.
But more importantly, let this be a reminder for next time: Pay attention. Get involved. Show up. Whether it’s chickens, zoning, roads, or taxes—your voice only counts if you use it when the decisions are being made.
And if your neighbor now has a few hens in a tidy little coop in their backyard, don’t be alarmed—maybe go meet them. You might leave with a dozen fresh eggs and a new understanding of what thoughtful local governance actually looks like.
