Next to an abandoned electric factory with SPAIN (the S painted over) sprayed on its side, the now trash cluttered shoreline of Penn Treaty Park was where the Treaty of Shackamaxon was made. My first time at the park happened to be my first time in Philadelphia.

My friend Jiya and I watched the sun go down as families and lovers scattered across the park. A poodle’s silhouette patrolled the shoreline for what felt like eternity, the lights of boats and satellites reaching closer towards us as people began to leave. 

I sat next to Jiya on a log by the water, as we spilled bits of the past that were once unspoken to each other. 

It was easier to talk about things with a distance from where they occurred; we both grew up together in Virginia and had gone on to Richmond for our first year of college. 

Hundreds of years away from the native tribes and reckless colonizers, the park summoned a similar attitude of surrender from myself– just as Shackamaxon decidedly sacrificed sacred land in hopes of peace and amity, I was hopeful on the crossroads that if I spoke my truth I would eventually work towards the change I desired.

 During this time I was chronically restless and exhausted; unsure of where I would be transferring schools and unable to imagine peace beyond the long term relationship I most recently was grieving. 

 In Philadelphia, I offered Jiya my honestly, surrendering my usual defenses. Sharing with her was the first step to change, staring myself dead in the face as I spoke to the water and to Jiya, facing the reality I hated, yet had raised for myself over the past few years.

When I saw a favorite artist of mine, Redviel, was going to be performing at the Foundry, I began to craft an adventure for Jiya and I: a trip during the middle of our classes during early April that would end up costing us way too much. 

My uncle had always been quite the endorser for Philadelphia, having attended University of the Arts back in the 60s. My aunt grew to love the city herself—although never having lived in it—so much so that she missed my highschool graduation for the annual flower festival. 

Personally, I viewed Pennsylvania as merely Pennsylvania: the state my mom was raised in, my relatives died in, and a pit stop before New York.

When I was originally applying to colleges, I neglected to look deeper into  my uncle’s suggestions of school’s in Philly. My mind was set on New York City, but upon financial reality, I ended up attending Virginia Commonwealth University in Richmond, VA.

Within the first week of college I decided upon not returning for my Sophomore year, a reflection of my lack of security with myself, rather than solely the environment.

Troughs and Highs

For the first time in months, I broken my pattern of life by taking the train to Philadelphia. Along the way, the train suddenly stopped in DC. “There has been a fatality on the tracks,”  the conductor spoke over the scratchy intercom. 

“For the first time in months, I broke my pattern of life by taking the train to Philadelphia.”

 The skyline was so beautiful, and I felt rather free.

It’s important to look at the sky, even when there is very little showing amongst the buildings. Getting out of my usual environment reminded me of the importance of breaking patterns of life, and the direct correlation doing so has to unhealthy patterns of the mind. 

When we arrived at the AirBnb I booked, Jiya and I chatted inside like time was a luxury before heading to the concert, more excited about having actually made it to Philadelphia amid our never ending day of travel anxieties. 

To my surprise, the concert venue, The Foundry, was a two minute drive from where we were staying. Upon entry, our tickets wouldn’t load, but after a few minutes the event staff let us in anyways. 

Jiya and I made it in time for the last few songs of the concert–clique enough, the journey had made our destination all the more sweeter. 

The months prior I had been feeling lost as I detached myself from the person I felt was my other half for the past few years, guilt-ridden and shocked with how I let my relationship become so demoralizing. For the first time in a long time the night allowed for me to exhale and let go momentarily without feeling the need to sob. It felt as if everything had been leading up to that moment, the turning point in a rather anticlimactic coming-of-age film, an otherwise insignificant scene to audiences, but nonetheless a precious moment for me.

For the last few minutes of the concert I was stupidly happy and in awe, relieved and immersed within the intimate venue and Redviel’s performance.

Both the good and the bad of that day were both beautiful in the sense they were meant to be. Like I said I was stupidly happy, one of those times where joy is so present it won’t allow me to forget about its existence unlike most of the time. 

I Learn to Value my Past by Reflecting Upon It

If someone told me I was going to spend hundreds on a trip to Philadelphia specifically for a concert I would only see the last minutes of, proceed to miss a bus on the way back and have to spend 200$ on an Uber, I would have said no to going in the first place. Now, I would probably also say “No” even knowing the outcome, as I am at one of those points in life where I could really use that money for future loans. Thankfully, in this case, my past actions cannot be undone.

The New Jersey Turnpike was soul churning: heartless displays of capitalism and human desire embodied across strip club and political billboards, brown land occupied by trash and crippled construction machines.

The moments of peace that I found during the duration of the trip were discarded here and only found again upon reflecting on how fateful visiting Philadelphia was. In the case of my finances and spring semester academic progress, ignorance served as consequential moments of bliss.

My attempts to plan, per usual, did not go as intended, but unlike other occasions I wholeheartedly accepted the situation and rolled with it.

My Self-Professed “Treaty”

By the Delaware River, following the short but well lived concert, Jiya and I shared the good and the ugly of our past we hoped to reconcile with, unbeknownst to the history of the land we sat upon. We agreed upon how our delayed train was fated in a multitude of ways, introspection induced by the conductor’s announcement and our luck to have made it just in time for the last few songs of the concert. 

The area was muddy but warm, depressing in a sweet kind of way. 

I felt half miserable and half okay to be sitting on the shoreline, a patch of nature in the expanse of Philadelphia backing us. 

The sky helped me feel less down, guiding my gaze aimlessly and endlessly as to never get held up on a singular thought; although, my most relevant anxieties did murmur from time to time.

Only until recently did I learn about the treaty between William Penn and Shackamaxon and how it was the first made between natives and settlers to have withstood time, one of friendship and amity. Only recently did I visit Kensington, not too far from Penn Treaty, where I momentarily mistook a crowd of homeless people for those waiting in line at some venue. 

It’s a bit sad to think that addiction and litter now scatter once sacred land, but it certainly does not define it, just as nothing ever will. 

A Seed of an Idea

Jiya brought up the idea of transferring to Philadelphia as I shared with her how I had no idea where I was going to attend school at, the financial reality of going to New York unaligned with my persistent dreams of doing so. Whether it was the sentimentality of the night that softened my stubborn self enough to look into Philadelphia schools, or the initial seed planted long ago by my Uncle, I ended up applying to Temple a week before the applications closed. 

When the time eventually came to put down a deposit for Fall semester, I swayed rather openly between my options, many of which were in New York. I ultimately chose Temple University; Not because of Philadelphia ,or a romanticized idea I had, but because the other schools were too expensive or did not have on campus housing. Just as everything always had ever been, it was just right.

The entirety of the trip was a reminder of my ability to move, act freely, and define my own self and life. I remembered the importance of “going with the flow” as my Dad always told me to do, and how my inability in the past year was restricting me from going anywhere.

“Of Friendship and Amity”

Penn Treaty Park has a special place in my heart. I grew to love it despite my grief that night. 

I told Jiya everything I told no one, allowing the stark reality I had curated up until that point to settle in so I would never repeat all the mistakes I made before. I am proud to say I haven’t, perhaps being a bit too careful– or maybe just the right amount— to not allow myself to desire recklessly.

That night I spoke to the river really, fearful to look Jiya in the eye, speaking all my truths despite my reluctance. Although it made me feel disgusting long before I felt relieved, I knew I needed to let go of my secrets in order to make the changes I desired. 

Knowing now that Penn Treaty is where a vow was made that went unbroken during a time when settlers notoriously took advantage of Native Americans kindness makes me feel all the more destined to be where I am now; living by myself in Philadelphia, light years away from my guilt ridden self I was less than a year ago. 

I have matured to a place of valuing self preservation over the highs I used to endlessly chase. Although boredom is far less romantic than self destruction, it is important for me to be alone and process all that I experience, feel, and do.

Philadelphia is a wonderful place, as much as Richmond is, my hometown is, New York is, and everywhere else. Philadelphia just happened to be where I settled, the place I accepted to be my own. It was only until returning to Richmond after first visiting Philadelphia that I began to explore the city, my resentment towards Richmond slowly dismantled as I realized it was my limited perspective of it and distaste towards who I acted as at times when living there. 

The Power of Perspective and Environment

Environment is undoubtedly important to changing one’s self, it’s difficult to combat people’s set opinions of you in small towns, difficult to see the larger picture when living in a basement, and impossible to imagine growth, change, and a dream-like future when you see the same things and people day after day.

In this city I know no one from my hometown, I have no memories from my former relationship tethered to any sort of landmark, and I am finally able to claim a reality in which I don’t idealize anyone, or anything, in order to feel a purpose. 

On a more tangible topic regarding my opinion on Philadelphia, it has many facilities of public transportation, and the diversity of the city allows me to never feel stagnant while living here: that is, as long as I choose to step outside.

Although there are many days I forget to, this day included, knowing that I am only a ride away from the waterfront, from Center City, and from all that’s in between allows me to never feel too stuck. 

Often people associate crime, addiction and poverty with the city, forgetting to look up from their phones and the trash ridden streets when walking, neglecting the sky above them that humanity collectively falls beneath. I find Philadelphia to be a lovely place because I found it to be. The city is only unloved by those who can’t find it in their hearts to feel such love.

I tend to speak too much, often feeling the need to explain myself to others. I think sharing this will be just the right amount of words.

“Money talks in this business and bullshit walks.”

This is a quote from Pennsylvania Congressman Michael “Ozzie” Myers as he accepted a $50,000 bribe from what he believed were Arab sheiks. Unfortunately for him, his debauchery would be caught entirely on video and played before a court of law – becoming one of many politicians caught in the net of ABSCAM, an FBI sting operation conducted from the late 70’s to the early 80’s. 

The operation started as a way to recover stolen art and securities in the name of a fictional wealthy Arab sheik. New York’s own silver-tongued con-man Mel Weinberg posed as the U.S. representative to the sheik and navigated the web of Manhattan’s underworld in the name of federally-backed justice. It should be noted that Weinberg only agreed to play his role in order to stay out of jail for running a fraudulent real-estate scheme. Nevertheless, he must have played his part with gusto to eventually land himself in the same room as Angelo Erichetti, a U.S. senator and the Mayor of Camden, New Jersey. From here, the tone and scale of the operation changed drastically. 

Erichetti spread the word that new money was in town, and they were here to play. Politicians from across the tri-state area and even as far as Florida met with the sheiks to hear their offers and ultimately take their money. Some offered expedited entry into the country, some offered permits for casinos, and the rest practically fell to the ground and swore the power of their office to the sheiks. All they wanted in return was Uncle Sam’s finest green, something the federal agents were supplied enough with to dole out to the whole region. 

All in all, six US representatives, one senator, Angelo Erichetti, and three Philadelphia city council members (including the president) were convicted out of a total 31 targeted politicians. Those in charge of ABSCAM must have felt accomplished for their role in weeding out those that would sell the power of their office to the highest bidder. Democracy could rest easy for another night. 

However, the very next day (metaphorically speaking), they awoke to find that those with the most to lose from operations such as these were ready to bring their hammer down. 

Some say that ABSCAM and its pivoting towards targeting political officials was in revenge for how the legislative branch came at the national intelligence agencies for their part in the Watergate scandal of 1972. While these claims are unsubstantiated, it reflects the mindset of those that set the rules of the game after ABSCAM concluded. While undercover operations are still a tool in the FBI’s kit, under the guidelines that were issued, it was ensured that the wild-dog kind of operation that ABSCAM was could never occur again on American soil. 

The Legacy of ABSCAM

Now we live with the consequences. When LeAnna Washington, a Democrat who represented parts of Philadelphia and Montgomery County in the state senate, was questioned by her chief of staff on the appropriateness of using taxpayer money for political gain, she responded by saying “I am the f-ing senator, I do what the f- I want, and ain’t nobody going to change me.” One may wonder why an elected official would respond so boldly to merely the idea that their misuse of taxpayer money is dubious, the answer lies within the legacy ABSCAM left behind. 

During the trials of those convicted and the subsequent appeals, they cried that the agents had “entrapped” them into doing acts they never would have had they not been in the situation the FBI orchestrated. Attorney General Benjamin Civiletti issued the first guidelines upon which future FBI operations would be conducted to avoid further controversy. Issues include the aforementioned entrapment, the tarnishing of reputations of innocent parties, and the damage done to the reputation of the government that was still reeling from the Watergate scandal. 

But What Specifically Changed?

Since ABSCAM relied on many middlemen to get the federal agents in contact with public officials, the Civiletti guidelines outline and restrict the use of middlemen and detail when they are allowed to break the law and when they are not. From the Office of the Inspector General, “informants may be authorized to participate in two different types of ‘otherwise criminal activity’ at the behest of the FBI, ‘ordinary’ and ‘extraordinary.’ ‘Ordinary’ criminal activity could be authorized by an FBI field office supervisor or higher FBI official. ‘Extraordinary’ criminal activity was defined as any activity involving a significant risk of violence, corrupt actions by high public officials, or severe financial loss to a victim.” Public officials could now enjoy a level of security that was not previously afforded to them. The FBI was trusted not to go after Congress in almost a quid pro quo of their very own – then, it became law to make it harder to clear these operations. Perhaps they were so embarrassed that they were fooled by a con man who, during one of the payoff meetings, “inadvertently arrang[ed] for delivery of heaping hot corned beef sandwiches and coleslaw” (Ted Sherman). For as much business as these public officials were in with the “sheiks,” they seemingly could not tell it was strange for these men to be enjoying Jewish deli food. 

No matter the character of the con man that fooled Congress, the elected officials he was in hotel rooms with, sitting on yachts, talking over the phone, were connected to him for one thing – for the gain of only those that had the power to talk. Prosecutor Thomas P. Puccio, at the trial of Congressman Myers, said “There is a lot of tragedy in this room for the citizens of Philadelphia whom this congressman represents . . . There is tragedy for the Congress of the United States, in which Mr. Myers sits.” Philadelphia is not so much a martyr for public corruption, but is an analogy for the rest of the country. Pennsylvania and Pennsylvania-lite, also known as New Jersey, was home to many of the worst actors in the ABSCAM case. These men were willing to sell the power of their office to enrich themselves at the cost of local and national security. At some point, their ego allowed them to think themselves above the law, a mindset that a scary number of politicians have today. 

Our Modern Day

Brett H. Mandel is the author of “Philadelphia, Corrupt and Consenting: A City’s Struggle Against an Epithet.” Within, he recounts all of the corruption that took place in the city since its establishment over 300 years ago. There are many counts of politicians just like those seen in ABSCAM, taking bribes and excessive “campaign donations” in return for favors that could only be granted by those in positions of power. Egos were developed, only some were held accountable for their actions. Nevertheless, the audacity of these politicians have grown in the wake of ABSCAM, as if the opposite effect from what the FBI intended had occurred. 

It’s not about what you know, it’s who you know. Philadelphia is a burgeoning market, one that is being torn down and reconstructed. One cannot walk along Broad Street without needing to detour around fences and orange plastic barriers. With connections to every major city in the northeast region, Philadelphia is the new frontier for people looking to maximize their profit at the cost of those that live here. Contracts are awarded to those the politicians know, money moves around in the upper echelons without a dime ever reaching the lower rungs of the ladder. Even still, accountability and media coverage is next to none. 

Conclusion

ABSCAM showed how deep the corruption goes. It showed how willing politicians are to play favorites, to be used for their power to satisfy their desires. Even still to this day, voters can only focus on how they can get by. Life has only gotten harder as problems continue to go unresolved. With so much pedantics, short reform movements started in good faith that ultimately get shut down by power brokers/people with investments in the misery of others, the people of Philadelphia have their own worries to deal with. Many wonder if they will be the next victim of gun violence. They wonder if they will have to find other places to live outside of the city because of the skyrocketing price of rent. 20% of local citizens worry about where their next meal will come from, or if they will have utilities in their house, compared to an 11.5% national average. 

Therefore, it is no wonder that voter turnout for the 2023 mayoral election was only 30%, and in a one-party city, it was not hard to predict which candidate those votes would go to. Apathy has been rising in the city since Covid-19 and the ensuing economic fallout. However, it is important to know that when the voters do not exercise the one true power given to them, then those on top win. When their people are no longer in power because the voters care about what their elected officials are doing, they tighten up. One day, they may even play fair so that everyone can have a piece of the American dream. The hope is that one day, it will not just be a dream. 

On the evening of March 31, 2022, I came home from class at Cabrini University and drove to Philadelphia with my mom and younger sister. We were off to see Waitress at the Academy of Music, and I could not have been more excited.

The evening began with a quick dinner at The Cheesecake Factory on Walnut Street, and then we walked a block over to the musical’s venue. The time spent in line outside the theater went quickly, and before we knew it, we were seated in the fourth row of the parquet section, the lights had dimmed, and the curtains had opened…

My Introduction to Philadelphia

The Academy of Music has become one of my favorite places in all of Philadelphia, but it’s not where my “City of Brotherly Love” story began. I actually grew up in a suburban town just outside of the city. Most of my childhood was spent in small Catholic-school classrooms and neighborhood parks, or on basketball courts and local softball fields. Most of my earliest trips to the city consisted of quick excursions with my family to see the Christmas light displays at Macy’s or the Kimmel Center’s festive performances for the Fourth of July.

My first real introduction to Philadelphia came in the form of a sport: cross country.

From Kindergarten through my senior year of high school, I spent multiple days a week driving to Belmont Plateau, where I would compete in 5k races against other Archdiocese of Philadelphia students. My days spent racing there helped me to view Belmont as almost like its own little island in Philadelphia, as it felt separated from the city I had heard of: one full of tall buildings, smoke, and horrible sewer smells. Instead, my times at Belmont gave me a sense of what Philadelphia could offer: diversity, drive, and, most importantly, opportunity. Having pleasant experiences at Belmont encouraged me to venture farther into the city and see what more beauty Philadelphia could provide—namely, musical theater.

The Magic of the Academy of Music

In first grade, I saw my very first piece of musical theater: Mary Poppins. My grandmom, mom, sister, and I made our way to the famous Academy of Music to see one of my favorite stories come to life. I wore one of my fanciest dresses and felt like I was about to see something truly remarkable. That feeling rang true when Mary Poppins rose from the stage and flew right over our heads and out into the audience. I was absolutely mesmerized. That sense of magic that the musical created lit a spark in me that would stick around for years to come.

Over the subsequent years, I got to play a small part in that magic as I acted in my high school’s and Cabrini University’s musicals and dramas. The stage had become a second home to me as I became more comfortable acting, singing, and dancing on it. It was during these years that I returned to Philadelphia for theater once more.

A few weeks before my sophomore year of high school, my mom and I won the rush-ticket lottery to see Wicked at the Academy of Music. A few months after that, my family returned to the theater again to see Finding Neverland, one of my all-time favorites. These shows once more showed me the magic that can be created through storytelling. They brought me into the elaborate worlds of Oz and Neverland, making me feel sad for a green witch and empathetic for a young boy who lived over a century ago. Seeing the magic I remembered from Mary Poppins taken to a whole new level (more flying, special effects, moving props, and powerful ballads) stoked the flame inside me. These shows started to show me that I wanted to be on that stage myself or the one writing the scripts—either way, I was beginning to understand that I wanted to be a part of that magic.

During my sophomore year of college, that flame inside me grew to a full-on fire. It was that year that my family bought me tickets to see Waitress, the first show that I saw without prior knowledge of the plot. I was going into it completely blind, but I was excited—Philadelphia’s theater had yet to let me down, and it surely wouldn’t with this one, either.

It, of course, didn’t; the show was amazing.

The music had beautiful lyrics full of figurative language relating baking to the protagonist’s life, such as those in one of my favorite songs, “What Baking Can Do.” It also featured complex characters and a storyline that was powerful and dramatic yet still charming and comedic. Because of the skill and dedication put in by all of the crew members, the show was able to take a simple and relatable plot and turn it into something that had audience members laughing, crying, and cheering throughout, making it one of the most memorable pieces of live theater for me.

I sat in that Philadelphia theater after the Waitress cast’s final bows feeling incredibly moved. Seeing that musical reminded me of the power of storytelling and how amazing it can be to see oneself represented in media. I was officially instilled with a longing to create my own art that would benefit people, or at least make them feel something. I wanted to make something that would cause audiences to experience a vast range of emotions, just as the Academy of Music’s shows had done for me.

Unfortunately, I knew it was unlikely that I would be a part of a story that magnificent if I stayed on my then-current path. Upon that acknowledgment, I was overcome with a sense of finality—I would have to move my education from the suburbs to Philadelphia, where I would be around more creative types and feel empowered to create something extraordinary.

Thus began my transfer journey.

Transferring to Temple University

In January 2023, I left my old university behind and commuted to Philadelphia, enrolling as a Media Studies and Production student at Temple University, right in the heart of the city. I was suddenly surrounded by bustling crowds of people from all over the world who had their own stories to tell, which might have unnerved me at one point in my life. Luckily, the environment wasn’t totally foreign to me.

My Philadelphian excursions, especially those to Belmont Plateau and the Academy of Music, had prepared me for being around a set of diverse and driven people—I found myself feeling welcomed, uplifted, and inspired by the large range of voices around me when I arrived, rather than nervous or intimidated. My trips to the city for shows, races, and holiday events had given me a sense of familiarity within Philadelphia, and I was growing used to the tall buildings and still-not-so-great smells that seemed to be everywhere outdoors. I was newly invigorated and thrilled for the years at Temple that awaited me.

As I have continued my studies at Temple, I have felt excited to tell stories in creative ways. I get to collaborate with others on Temple Tonight, a late-night TV show where we write jokes and sketches to be performed in front of a live studio audience, hoping to make viewers laugh. I also get to tell parts of my own story through my work as an opinion writer for Temple’s chapter of Her Campus. Through my articles, I have been able to talk about my experiences with transferring schools, running, and turning 22, which readers may find relatable.

My media-based classes at Temple have been very rewarding, too. They teach me how to work with others to capture visually appealing stories throughout Philadelphia. One of my favorite class projects had me working with my lab and executive producing a television episode that required filming all over campus. Putting our creative minds to use and creating a comedic final project that was full of aesthetic shots was a lot of fun and assured me that transferring to a school full of storytellers was the right move.

During my time at Temple, I have also found myself looking for inspiration throughout the school and overall city, as my eyes have been opened to the art that surrounds me. My drives through Philadelphia’s back roads on my way to campus are full of breathtaking murals and more than a few eccentric individuals, and I can’t help but feel compelled to think up stories for each and every one of them. My visits to Reading Terminal Market and Love Park are filled with street musicians playing their drums and saxophones, creating the background music for my adventures and inspiring me further. My returns to the Academy of Music, a place that has given me so much already, bring me a renewed sense of purpose and motivate me to keep seeking out new stories.

A True Philadelphian

My story has had plenty of plot twists. If someone had called me a “Philadelphian” when I was a child, I probably would have stared in disbelief, as I couldn’t see myself spending more time in the city than what was necessary for my cross-country meets and the occasional holiday trip.

Now, however, this term is beginning to feel true. I spend more than just weekends in the city; my Mondays through Fridays are spent learning at a world-renowned campus in one of the country’s oldest and most famous cities, and my weekends are often spent returning to the city to catch another one of the Academy of Music’s Broadway Series shows, like Frozen or SIX.

All this time spent in the city in recent years, especially this past year as a student at Temple, has made me realize that I might actually be considered a Philadelphian.

I think I can officially wear this term with pride now. I have been coming into the city my whole life, but now I feel like I am a part of it, rather than just a passerby who is out of place. I have been to places rich with history like the Academy of Music, have taken the leap to change my educational journey, and am finally telling stories of my own in this city. I am no longer just an inspired theater kid—instead, I am learning how to be one of the people who does the inspiring as I begin my media-based career.

That day at Philadelphia’s Academy of Music changed everything. I was no longer a mere audience member. Rather, I was a storyteller myself with plenty to share. I am excited to spend one more year studying in this city that is full of art, and I cannot wait to see what characters and plotlines I encounter in my career after graduating.

For now, I will continue looking for inspiration in this beautiful city and use my past experiences in the theater to motivate me until, much like at the Academy of Music’s shows, the curtains close on my time at Temple.

Introduction

Whenever I go somewhere and introduce myself, I say the following, “Hey, my name is Andrew DePietro; I am from Allentown, PA… which is about an hour out from Philly.” The following responses then go a little like this; “Philly, the city of Brotherly Love,” “Philly! Pat’s or Geno’s?” Or “Philly! I love the movie Rocky.” I can’t help but laugh as this is a universal experience for those who live in the surrounding areas of the city, but it makes you think about what about the city stands out to people and what people recognize most about the city of Philadelphia. Aside from being the city of brotherly love, the city of Philadelphia should be recognized as the city of underdogs, as the essence of the underdog reigns heavily throughout the city through its history, pop culture, and sports scene. 

On February 8^th, 2018, Jason Kelce, just days removed from winning the first Super Bowl in Philadelphia history, gave an electrifying speech where he said, “Know who the biggest underdog is? It’s y’all, Philadelphia.” Those words were pertaining to the very long wait Birds fans had to endure to see their team win the Super Bowl, but I can’t help thinking about how fitting that statement is for all of Philadelphia. Everyone knows that Philly is the city of Brotherly Love, as the name literally translates to “love” and “brother.” The last two city edition jerseys for the 76ers even had “City of Brotherly Love” on the front. However, Philadelphia’s history of being an underdog goes way before we were known as the city of brotherly love and even at the beginning of the country’s birth!

America’s First Underdog Story

Before Jason Kelce, the cheesesteak, whatever a jawn is, or any other Philly staples existed, Philadelphia looked a lot different. I like to imagine that where Maxi’s is, a popular bar for Temple students to go, used to be an outhouse for some random farmer. Philadelphia is one of America’s oldest cities and has a rich history. During the late 1700s, Philadelphia housed one of, if not the most important events in United States history, the signing of the Declaration of Independence. On July 4^th, 1776, a day that was so hot that Thomas Jefferson had to make a pitstop at a store to get a thermometer, the Declaration was signed. 

 The Declaration signaled the separation of the 13 colonies from the British Empire. It was the informal start of the end of the Revolutionary War. The war didn’t officially conclude until six years after the document was signed. But the document stands as a statement of true underdogs. The belief that we would fight against a power much stronger than us and win was a philosophy of some of the first underdogs on American soil, and those beliefs were written in the city of Philadelphia. The Revolutionary War and declaration of independence from Britain is America’s first underdog story, originating in Philadelphia. 

The Original United States Capital

From 1790 to 1800, Philadelphia served as the capital and the heart of the nation. Not only was it where the Declaration of Independence and Constitution were signed, but it was also a very accessible location for those traveling from both the North and South. However, in elegant Philadelphia fashion, things started to fall apart for the city. From struggling to pay soldiers for their service in the Revolutionary War, arguments over slavery, and public health and safety concerns, congress no longer wanted the nation’s capital in Philly. Eventually, the capital moved to its current day location, Washington D.C. Philadelphians tried just about everything to keep Philadelphia the nation’s capital, but not even an offer to build George Washington an enormous mansion would change the decision. Philadelphia now had its status revoked, just years removed from being the birthplace of the nation, and would live in the shadow of other cities as the United States started to grow and develop. 

Rocky

Two hundred years after the conclusion of America’s first underdog story came another one. In 1976, the movie, Rocky, came out and won Best Picture with a budget of 1 million dollars. Set in Philly, Rocky is a powerful and influential story about a man who was given a shot, went the distance, and became somebody great. When figuring out where to have the movie take place, Sylvester Stallone, who wrote the script and starred in the film, chose Philly over his own birthplace of New York City and his current place of residence at the time, Los Angeles. Philly offered something those cities couldn’t; it gave a smaller, more tight-knit community that could be a launchpad to an underdog hometown hero. The truth is, it is hard to imagine an underdog in a city that is the entertainment capital of the world, where major money is being spent to produce major talent. It is also hard to imagine an underdog in the biggest city in America. But a city where not everyone is a star and not surrounded by riches is the perfect place to curate an underdog story, and that is a point that Stallone magnified with having Rocky set in Philadelphia.  “I thought, you know, that Rocky moves at a certain pace. Not a New York pace. A Philadelphia pace,” Stallone said when asked about why he chose Philly. 

Since its release, Rocky’s legacy has been tied in with the city of Philadelphia, and the story of how the movie came about is just as inspiring as the main plot. Sylvester Stallone, inspired by a fight he saw on TV, wrote the script for Rocky in 3 days. Although the script did gain some interest from producers, he denied any offers he got to sell the script unless he could be the film’s star. Bob Chartoff and Irwin Winkler were the producers who would ultimately give Stallone his shot, and with a 1-million-dollar budget, Rocky went the distance. It would go on to win Best Picture over movies such as All the President’s Men, Network, and Taxi Driver at the 49^th Annual Academy Awards.

The reception of this movie is so quintessential to Philadelphia culture. You can hear the Rocky bells during 3^rddowns at an Eagles game, run the “Rocky Run” for charity, take a picture in front of the Rocky statue, or wake up early in the morning and go for a run ending at the art museum to unleash your inner underdog. It’s hard to escape Rocky-related ideology as it has grown as a staple of the city. Rocky encapsulates the spirit of Philadelphia perfectly.  Philadelphians embrace this underdog mentality, and much of it is because of this movie. Although I don’t have the exact answer as to why citizens of Philadelphia like being the underdogs, I do have my own opinions on the matter. 

 I think that Philadelphians like to be humble. We love being told that they aren’t good enough, and when our opponents are vulnerable, we go the distance and become great. Seeing Rocky train in the city he calls home and go toe-to-toe with one of the greats inspires us to be the underdogs in our own lives. This is why we trust the process for our 7-foot center to bring Philly an NBA Championship or why we stand tall with our hometown baseball team when they fall in the World Series after an excellent post-season run. Rocky is more than just an entertaining film; it presents a spectacle of Philly and its underdog nature. 

2017 Eagles

 Aside from the spectacle of Philadelphia’s underdog culture shown in Rocky, the city of Philadelphia recently experienced its own real-life underdog story, the 2017 Eagles.  The Eagles coasted and took care of business the entire year until week 14 when rising star quarterback Carson Wentz tore his ACL. With ambitions of the Super Bowl, it suddenly seemed a distant fantasy for the Birds as the front-runner for the MVP was placed on injured reserve; little did the rest of the world know that the Super Bowl was a distant fantasy up until that point. Backup quarterback Nick Foles would go on to start under center for the rest of the season and would surprisingly maintain the season’s success. As the team went on to post-season play, they would be the #1 team in the NFC and have home-field advantage throughout the postseason. 

This #1 seed was ultimately meaningless, however. Oddsmakers still had the Eagles as underdogs in every game they played in the postseason. This lit a flame and was a driving factor for the team and the city. As what would go down as one of Vegas’ biggest mistakes, Philly embraced being the underdog and let their inner Rocky shine. After a thrilling 15-10 win against the Atlanta Falcons in the NFC divisional round, players Chris Long, Beau Allen, and Lane Johnson wore dog masks, signaling what would become an epic postseason. Fans were allowed and even encouraged to wear these masks to the upcoming games at the Linc. Once more, Philly was being recognized as the underdog. 

Philly would go on to win the Super Bowl, as they went blow for blow against Tom Brady and the Patriots. Behind a Super Bowl MVP performance by backup quarterback Nick Foles and some aggressive coaching, the Eagles went the distance and came out on top. Just days after this victory, the city was a mirror image of what the end of prohibition looked like…probably. At the Super Bowl parade, Jason Kelce stood on the exact steps that our own fictional hometown hero would finish his training on. Wearing mummer appearal, Kelce delivered a speech about what it means to be an underdog and why the city of Philadelphia should embrace that title. Symbolically, this was a great end to the Super Bowl run and gave the perfect exclamation point to Philly’s underdog story. With as many moving parts and storylines as the 2017 Eagles season had, I believe that this was Philly’s last missing piece to prove themselves as the ultimate underdog city. The city’s history that created an underdog persona was now being brought to life with the success of the Eagles.  

Conclusion

So why is the whole theme of being an underdog so crucial to the city? What is the significance? Each city has something about it that stands out: Chicago is the Windy City, New York is the concrete jungle, and Detroit is the automobile capital of the world. Philadelphia will never shake the name of being the city of brotherly love. It’s not a bad thing, but there is an argument that Philly is the city of underdogs, and rightfully so. Being an underdog is a part of Philly’s history and culture, ultimately making our city what it is. As a current city favorite song goes, “No one likes us, We’re from Philly, freaking Philly, no one like us, we don’t care.”

My Introduction to Sports

Sports have always been a dominant part of my life. Growing up, I played just about every sport under the sun and would always watch any games that were on TV with my dad. Baseball is without a doubt my favorite sport, and I was lucky enough to play Varsity softball during my time in high school. Being from New York City, the bar had always been set pretty high for me as I truly do think that we have some of the best franchises across all sports.

Finding Comfort in Football

I always knew that I wanted to leave New York and go out of state when it came time for me to go to college. When I thought about leaving for school, I always thought that I would go to a big sports school because of my culture. From a young age, sports have always made me feel safe, so I had always envisioned myself going to a school primarily known for their sports and that sort of culture. For some reason, schools such as Florida State and Penn State were always on my mind. These are schools that when you hear them mentioned, your mind goes straight to sports. Never in my life did I envision myself going to school in another city, let alone the city of Philadelphia!

Before I even understood the game of football, I would always be in the living room with my dad watching just about every college game that was playing at the time. When I first came to Temple University as a freshman, I struggled a bit at first adapting to the new environment. I felt out of place and was doing everything I could to feel like I belonged here. This is when I started going to Temple Football games at the Lincoln Financial Field. I went to almost every home game that year, and really started to find my place at Temple. Even though Temple lost more games than they won, I started to feel more at home going to these games and being around fellow students who loved sports. This experience was not like the sports experiences I had grown up with, but I found myself appreciating it. This was the first time that I really began enjoying this new chapter of my life.

Temple University may not be the biggest sports school, but when it comes to one of the most loyal and devoted fan bases, the city of Philadelphia lands on top in my opinion. Having gone to school in this city for the past three years, one of the first things that comes to mind when I think about the city of Philadelphia is sports and the fans.

Philly fans really are the definition of ride or die. They are the epitome of the saying, “no one likes us, we don’t care.” As an outsider, for years I had seen the Philadelphia Phillies miss out on the post season prior to 2022 and even though VISIBLY upset, fans had always remained devoted and loyal. As a New York sports fan in recent years, I have dealt with my fair share of disappointment, but Philly fans are truly in a league of their own when it comes to that. Being present for some monumental events in Philadelphia sports history the past two years have truly allowed me to get a better sense of the people that make up this city, and feel closer to both Temple and the city of Philadelphia as a whole.

New York City Roots

Growing up in New York City, I feel that I have been lucky enough to be surrounded by sports my whole life. Sports teams in New York have always been kind of thrown in your face everywhere you look. New York City is the only city that I can think of that has two sports teams for every major league sport. From a historical standpoint, we have some of the best franchises across all sports, even if we have not had a major sports championship win in quite some time.

I actually grew up in a divided household when it comes to baseball. My dad on one hand had grown up being a lifelong Yankees fan, whereas my mom would do anything for her Mets. Luckily I sided with the right team, and have been a Yankees fan for as long as I can remember. I have certainly met some crazy New York sports fans over the course of my life, but nothing would have prepared me for the culture shock that I would receive, when I came to Philadelphia for college. I want to preface this by saying that I will be a New York sports fan until the day I die, but since coming to Philadelphia in 2021 and going to school here the past few years, I have been able to really open up my eyes and embrace other sports cultures.

Eye Opening Experiences in the City of Brotherly Love

Being in the city of Philadelphia when the Phillies went to the World Series in 2022 and the Eagles went to the Super Bowl in 2023 was something I never thought I would experience. The city of Philadelphia was electric. Even though both teams unfortunately lost their respective championships, it was amazing to see the city come together as one. Being out and about on Temple’s campus specifically, allowed me to gain a new sense of community and perspective on this city and environment, watching all students come together to root for this city’s teams.

I’ll never forget where I was when the Phillies made it to the World Series back in 2022. I was in my old sophomore year apartment watching the game with one of my friends in my room on my laptop, just thinking that there was no way that the Phillies would actually win. To my surprise, they did just that. I remember staring at my screen in absolute disbelief and even a sense of pride that I had started to adopt since being here. I remember walking out of my apartment towards campus and seeing dozens of students making their way down to city hall. Groups were either running to catch the Septa before it closed on Cecil B. Moore Ave, or decided to just walk all the way to city hall straight down Broad street. This was the first time that I had ever seen someone climb a light pole in person.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and the Phillies ultimately lost to the Astros that year. However, during their whole playoff run, I seriously had never seen people so happy just to be in Philly and walking around campus. Some of my professors at the time had even mentioned that crime had managed to decrease for a bit in the city! “Dancing On My Own” by Calum Scott seemed to become a city anthem here. I started to feel much closer to both Temple and the city of Philadelphia during this exciting period of time.

Nothing in my life could have prepared me for what it would be like to be in the city of Philadelphia when the Eagles made it to the Super Bowl in 2023. Even though Temple has not been known for their football team in recent years, since coming here, I have gotten much more into the sport in general. The New York Giants will always be my number one team and I hate to admit this, but during the 2022 NFL season, I certainly paid much more attention to the Philadelphia Eagles. The day the Eagles made it to the Super Bowl in 2023 was another day that I will never forget. Unfortunately, I had missed out on all of the fun going down to city hall this time around because I was in the middle of recruitment for my sorority. However, one of the first things I did after finding out the Eagles would be in the Super Bowl, was get an Eagles jersey. I wish I was kidding when I say that my dad, a season ticket holder for the New York Giants for nearly 30 years, was furious about this. I had jokingly sent my family a selfie in the jersey the morning of the Super Bowl and my dad told me to not come home for spring break if I still had it.

Going out around campus for the Super Bowl to this day is one of my favorite memories as a Temple Student. I had gone to a block party off campus and it seemed as if every single Temple student was there. Packed like a bunch of sardines, my friends and I and the rest of the student body all celebrated the fact that “our” team made it to the championship game. I include myself in that statement, because for the first time since coming here, I finally felt like I could call the city of Philadelphia my home. It seemed as if there was not a single care in the world and everybody, whether or not you are a major sports fan, was happy to be there and even more happy to be rooting for teams in Philly that have always been looked at as the “underdog.”

The Eagles loss was a tough one for sure. I remember being at a friend’s house and looking across the room at a guy I didn’t know, and he just started crying. This was the first time I had ever seen someone cry over a team in person. That’s when it hit me. The loyalty that Philadelphians have for their sports teams is quite inspiring and something to look up to. This fanbase truly is ride or die. The fans feel all the highs and even the lows that the players experience.

Both the World Series and Super Bowl runs were ones that I have not been able to witness since my New York sports teams have not come close to a championship win in several years. Never in my life growing up in New York would I ever have thought that sports fans do all of this. I really do think some of this is just a Philly thing, which makes sports culture here even more fascinating. I have met so many people here who have no clue how any sports even work, yet they will always support any team in Philadelphia. To me, this speaks volumes about the people in this city and the love they have for it.

Feeling an Everlasting Connection

Earlier I had mentioned that I grew up in a house divided. Unfortunately, my mom is a die hard Mets fan. I’ll be honest, I’ve been quite scared in the past telling people who are Phillies fans that my mom loves her Mets. Before coming to Temple and being in Philly, I really did not know much about the sports culture here at all. Truthfully, I just knew that they had somewhat of a bad reputation and were a bit hot headed towards other teams and fanbases.

Growing up, my mom used to tell me how her and my aunt would travel to Philly when the Mets played the Phillies. My mom would always say that the Phillies fans absolutely HATED them. My mom and aunt had both mentioned how scared they were when they would get on public transportation here because they would be in their Mets gear while heading to the old Veterans Stadium. Needless to say, based on these stories, I too was a bit scared when I first came here for school. I really did not know what to expect at all when I first came here.

Sports have always made me feel safe. When I first came to Temple, I found myself struggling to feel connected and feel at home in my new environment. Embracing the Philadelphia sports culture has opened my eyes to how wonderful this city truly is. I will always be a New York City girl at heart, but I truly have found my home away from home while being at Temple. I have a newfound respect for this place as well as a sense of community and longing. When I think of Philadelphia, I think of happiness, love, and a whole lot of sports!

Introduction

From the warm streets in France to all around the world, cafes have long been more than just a supplier of caffeine, but a cultural hub for many. These establishments serve as essential meeting spots for any type of person looking to indulge themselves in a warm cup of coffee and a book, meet with friends to catch up about their lives, finally take time to study for that exam they have coming up, or even a place to grab a quick bite on their way to work. It is no different in the heart of Philadelphia, where a cup of coffee might just fuel almost half the population each morning. Philadelphia is home to so many different cafes, from the hectic Center City to the quieter residential corners, serving as a testament to this historic and cultural city. In this story, we will embark on a journey through the history of cafes in Philadelphia, what they mean to social culture, and how they shape and grow the lives of the neighborhoods they reside in.  

Cafes in Philadelphia Throughout History

Philadelphia is a very historic city in the United States and is home to a lot of important historical artifacts from colonial America. For instance, there is the Independence Hall building, which was where the Declaration of Independence was signed, and towards its city’s center, there is the Liberty Bell off Market Street. 

Though these artifacts have little to no relation to the cafe culture in Philadelphia like we know it to be today, some of the founding fathers and other historical political figures used cafes,––sometimes referred to as taverns back in colonial America––to meet and delegate over a drink and food. According to the website, USHistory.org, “City Tavern, also called the Merchants’ Coffee House, was the political, social, and business center of the new United States. Jefferson, Adams, Franklin, and Paul Revere all ate here. The Declaration of Independence and The Constitution both owe much to the food and spirits consumed in this building.” The City Tavern was a crucial spot for many in historic Philadelphia and is now an active museum on the corner of 2^nd and Walnut Street. 

As technology advanced and the United States entered the era of the Industrial Revolution and more jobs and dining places emerged, cafes continued to grow in popularity and eventually grew into the worldwide phenomenon that we know today. I know in every town or city I have been to, I have managed to find a cafe of some sort, serving as a social hub and third place for many people.  

The Neighborhoods and Economic Benefits

Now, don’t you just love it when there happens to be a cafe nearby on almost any occasion? I know I do. I have been to many cities and states throughout the U.S. and in almost every place I have been to, I have somehow made my way to a cafe, mainly just to grab coffee and breakfast. There is this sense of comfort in knowing that there are cafes in all parts of the world that have become a universal experience for me, bringing a sense of comfort and stability. 

For the entirety of my life, I have lived no more than a 30-minute drive away from Philadelphia, and now for the past year or so, I have been a proud resident of it. Today, when I find myself wandering the city going shopping, or just going for walks, I always mentally take notes of any cafes I see, as another potential place I might go to one day, or even just in that moment. Of the cafes I have been to or happened to come across, my favorites tend to be the ones that are in the center of residential areas.  

These little eateries that are built directly into the flow of neighborhoods feel so active, comforting, and like a crucial part of the neighborhoods they are in. Whether they are just on the street’s edge or connected to the lobby of an apartment building, they feel like hidden gems.  

In a piece published by Sumato Coffee Co., it says, “Coffee Shops are often considered as a social place in many communities. They are places where people gather to socialize, work, and relax. These small businesses play a vital role in the development and growth of communities.” And it is true, these cafes are built around communities and are a social hub for anyone to enjoy, and in your enjoyment, it also boosts the local economy of the neighborhoods. In the same piece it says, “[Cafes] also contribute to the local economy, support other businesses, and provide a venue for social and cultural events. These small businesses play a vital role in the building and maintaining a strong sense of community, which is essential for the overall well-being of individuals and the community as a whole.” 

Rowhome Coffee

One of these cafes that strive to create a better neighborhood and promote community engagement in Philadelphia is Rowhome Coffee. Of its two locations in Philadelphia, I have been to one, on the corner of Pine Street and 26^th, in the heart of the Fitler Square neighborhood, right next to the Schuylkill River Park. But, before I talk about the cafe itself, I need to talk about what a row home/house is and its history in Philadelphia.  

Rowhome Coffee is built into a row home, which was and still is a very popular form of housing. These homes are very small, compact, contain only a few floors, and most importantly, are cheap. The Encyclopedia of Greater Philadelphia describes the history of the row home in the following excerpt: “As the city expanded in the later eighteenth and nineteenth century and speculative development increased, the streets filled with orderly rows of houses… As Philadelphia rapidly expanded after the Civil War, the row house served as the standard form used by builders to fill in new neighborhoods. In 1891, editors of the nationally circulated Harper’s Weekly understood that the ‘typical Philadelphia home’ was a row house, and included illustrations of an ornamented brick row house with [a] front porch alongside a more humble version, implying for the magazine’s audience that the row house could house both working and middle-class residents. In 1893, city promoters embraced this characterization when, at the World’s Columbian Exposition in Chicago, they constructed a simple brick row house described as a ‘model Philadelphia house.’ The cost for such a building was approximately $2500.”

These row houses then became homes and are seen all throughout Philadelphia, most of them still being used as residential spaces, but in the case of Rowhome Coffee, they decided to build their cafe directly in one of these homes that was once a barroom, creating a sense of history and authenticity. On their website, it says, “Rowhome’s first location occupies a nearly 150 year old barroom in the Fitler Square neighborhood, while the second location serves the historic East Kensington neighborhood from what was previously a corner pharmacy established in the early 1900s”

I discovered Rowhome Coffee not too long ago, on an Instagram account that is dedicated to promoting and talking about the best eateries in Philadelphia.  From what I could see virtually about Rowhome Coffee, I knew I had to visit and grab a bite. And after visiting, I instantly fell in love with the cafe and the area that was around. 

When I arrived, I could just tell the neighborhood was a bustling one, but somehow still quiet and serene, and instantly got in line to order. Due to the general size of row houses, the cafe was small, so the line went completely outside onto the sidewalk. The atmosphere felt so comforting, and I just knew this cafe had so much to offer outside of just coffee and pastries––a sense of community. So many people inside and outside were doing so many different things; some were reading, but most were chatting with their friends and family. From the atmosphere and friendly environment, I could tell Rowhome Coffee has such a significant impact in the local neighborhood and the surrounding Philadelphia area.  

From an economic perspective, most, if not all, shops, for food, drinks, clothes, whatever it may be, tend to neighbor other shops on plaza, districts, and streets. But Rowhome Coffee was completely different. Rowhome Coffe, at least on Pine Street, was built directly into the neighborhood, not surrounded by a single shop. This shows us that Rowhome Coffee strives for a lot more than money, as most businesses do. They strive to build a better community, providing a comforting space for people to use as an interconnecting social hub.  

Conclusion

While Rowhome Coffee is a quaint cafe in the heart of a Philadelphia neighborhood, it is only one of many cafes that serve the same purpose. Each cafe serves as a social hub for all types of people looking to indulge themselves in a worthwhile part of a universal culture. Cafes play such a valuable role in society around socializing and the economic benefits supporting small businesses. And this role is still crucial to the historic city of Philadelphia. 

Back in my first semester at college, just like any other freshman, I took a boring and unnecessary seminar course for first-year students, which was a complete waste of time. However, that silly little course has stuck with me almost three years later because of a stupid assignment I had to do—a vision board.

In this vision board, I set four different goals I wanted to achieve by the time I graduated from Temple; one of those was to find the best, most authentic Mexican restaurant in Philadelphia.

So, looking back on this anecdote, two things are very clear to me about what I was feeling when I set this goal. First, since I turned in this assignment at 12:44 a.m., I am sure I was very hungry and could only think of eating some tacos. But also, I missed home.

At this point in time, being three thousand y cacho kilometers (I still won’t use miles) away from home was weighing heavy on me. I was trying to find that same homey feeling in Philadelphia by attending meetings for Latino organizations and going to Mexican restaurants and food trucks—I even tried Chipotle for the first time ever at this point. However, I think these attempts at finding a community only made me feel more alienated.

The restaurants I ate at were okay to good-ish in taste, but they certainly were not authentic for a variety of reasons. Even just the atmosphere of the Mexican restaurants felt off from the moment I stepped inside.

And at the Latino organizations I went to, barely anyone could speak or understand Spanish, and most of them were born in the U.S. I know that none of these things are the fault of my fellow Latinos on campus, but their life experiences were so different from mine in so many ways that I couldn’t relate to them at all.

Both these experiences made me feel like an outsider even inside of what was supposed to be my community.

This quest for delicious tacos and community plagued me for the entirety of my first year of college. I was able to make it better by traveling back home during fall and winter break and by having the chance to speak in Spanish more often through the job I got as a Spanish tutor at the library.

However, that was like taking an Advil to make the pain of a broken bone go away. Sure, it helps soothe the pain a bit, but the broken bone is still there needing much more to be fixed—although, admittedly, this is a wild exaggeration because my soul wasn’t broken, it was just slightly injured at most… or at least that’s what I tell myself.

My second year rolled around, and surprisingly, things went a bit better. This year I found out about a festival in Penn’s Landing that celebrated the Mexican Independence, which was a better cultural experience than the other ones I’d had in Philly. However, this might have also been because of who I was accompanied by.

That day I went on an unofficial date with my current girlfriend, whom I had met on the first weekend of my sophomore year. That’s a cute story and all, but it’s not relevant at all, right? Finding a romantic partner didn’t make me feel at home or find a community in Philadelphia. Therefore, it certainly couldn’t help me find the most delicious tacos… right?

Surprisingly, it did.

My girlfriend isn’t the Latino community I wanted to find because she’s not even Latina, and she can’t cook amazing tacos either. However, she still technically helped me because of her dad. Her dad is a big fanatic of Mexican food, and he recommended I go to this one Mexican restaurant called South Philly Barbacoa.

I had never heard of it before, and based on the name, I thought it’d just be another white-washed Mexican restaurant (possibly not even owned by a Mexican person) that would stomp on my soul just like all the other ones that came before it. Still, I had a small glimmer of hope because my girlfriend’s dad has gone to Mexico and had authentic Mexican food in the past, and he said this was the real deal in terms of authenticity.

Nonetheless, I was also a bit scared because if this restaurant, which was recommended by a professional chef who studied in Paris, was bad or did not live up to my high standards, then I would probably die because that would guarantee that no place in Philadelphia could ever feel like home and that good tacos aren’t available here.

On December 3^rd, 2022, I finally took the leap of faith and visited South Philly Barbacoa with my girlfriend.

I had heard before that in South Philadelphia there were a lot of Mexican people, but I was surprised by my surroundings when the Uber dropped us in the corner across from the restaurant where Ellsworth Street and South 9th Street meet. As I stepped out of the car, I was greeted by a blast of colors and Spanish words that made me feel disoriented because I couldn’t believe I was still in Philadelphia.

There was a meat market or carnicería called “El Pueblo,” which had the colors of the Mexican flag in its sign, on the block across from South Philly Barbacoa’s entrance.

There was a paletería called “La Guerrerense” with a vibrant pink wall and some green highlights facing the carnicería.

And there was another business called “Paletas y Helados Bambino” facing “La Guerrerense.” It was a paletería too, but they also sold chamoyadas, malteadas, and crepas according to their white and navy, striped front.

South Philly Barbacoa also welcomed me to this intersection with their yellow wall and a sign that reminded me of a baby chicken’s feathers.

The outsides of the restaurant didn’t tell me much about what to expect; they actually prompted me to expect the unexpected given that they casually had a wooden wheelbarrow as a decoration to the right of the entrance—you know, just like any other Mexican restaurant does.

This made me believe for a moment that, despite all the sense of familiarity and community I felt when seeing the neighborhood for the first time, I was not going to find a sense of belonging inside this restaurant, and even less some good food.

However, the unexpected was exactly what I received because once I stepped inside South Philly Barbacoa, I was home. I hadn’t even seen, ordered, or tasted my food yet, but just by seeing how the tables and chairs (or in this case, plastic stools) were laid out, by seeing some cazuelas for the first time ever in the U.S., by seeing the nochebuenas around the restaurant, and by seeing that it was a cash-only (or Venmo) establishment, I knew I was in the right place.

After waiting for a bit in line with my girlfriend, we finally got the chance to order our food, and even though it wasn’t needed, I obviously asked for my food in Spanish—“¿Me puede dar tres de barbacoa y un agua de horchata, por favor?” The cashier yelled out my order to the people in the kitchen, and in a matter of seconds, I had my tacos in hand. I put all the toppings I wanted on them for free, just as it should be, and I finally got to eat.

The first bite I took out of my taco de barbacoa had me on the verge of tears. I had tried barbacoa very few times in the past and liked it on all those limited occasions, but I wouldn’t even say that it cracked the top 5 of my favorite tacos. So, you can imagine how good this taco de barbacoa had to be to make my eyes water after only one bite. But what about the sense of community I craved?

Well, the main thing that made me feel like I was back in my community was being bullied by the cashier. He made fun of me and teased me because I had to ask my girlfriend to pay for my food, for a second time that morning, when I went to order my extra round of tacos because I had no cash on me and my Venmo wasn’t working at all.

This simple act of banter brought me back to the comidas familiares at my grandpa’s house every Sunday, where if you did or said the wrong thing, any uncle, aunt, cousin, or even nephew would immediately tease you and not let you live it down until you said or did something dumber.

And I know that every person that goes to South Philly Barbacoa has a unique experience that makes them feel the same way—and by that I mean feel at home of course, not humiliated—because that is the reason why this restaurant even exists in the first place.

Way back before South Philly Barbacoa was a proper restaurant, its owner, Chef Cristina Martínez, used to cook and sell her delicious barbacoa inside her house as a way to earn money to send to her daughter in Mexico. She would advertise her food to the locals through business cards and word of mouth, telling them to come to her apartment at 7 a.m. on the weekends to get some barbacoa and consomé.

People obviously went to try the food because I don’t think many people could resist the offer of such delicious dishes, but they would all keep coming back and telling other people to go try Chef Cristina’s food as well. This all happened because most of the people who went to eat her food were all immigrants, just like her.

So, just like her as well, they all needed a place to feel at home, and the early morning barbacoa at Chef Cristina’s house was just the thing they were all looking for. According to Chef Cristina, a community formed around all the people who frequented her house, and this community was so big and strong that she earned enough money to be able to open South Philly Barbacoa in 2015.

This community Chef Cristina built is still going strong to this day. Currently, South Philly Barbacoa is no longer in the same location as when I went there back in 2022 because according to the owner, their lease for the original spot I knew has expired. However, her community has followed her to the new location—although it wasn’t hard to do so considering it’s only a few meters away from the original one.

South Philly Barbacoa now shares a venue with Chef Cristina’s other restaurant, Casa Mexico, which is another great restaurant. This might be discouraging to those of you who wanted to visit the original venue based on my description of it, but I can confidently say that the homey feeling that the restaurant emanates is still the same. That is because for Chef Cristina, just like for her clients, South Philly Barbacoa is so much more than a restaurant.

In every person that comes to her restaurant—in every man, every woman, every child—Chef Cristina sees her family. Being in the U.S. as an undocumented immigrant for nearly 15 years, Chef Cristina knows as well as anyone the toll that it can take on someone to be far away from home, from their community, and their family. However, she also believes that we are all one big family, and through her food, Chef Cristina wants to make this big family come together.

Through her food, she wants us to engage in more communication to be more understanding of each other. Through her food, she wants to reach every single one of us until no heart is left untouched. Through her food, she gives the world the same love that she wishes she could give every day to her daughter who is back in Mexico. And through her food, she has achieved this and much more because South Philly Barbacoa is not just a restaurant; it is our home away from home.

This is where we will post the digital versions of our Philadelphia Stories.

This is a test post for the 2024 Spring Writing Workshop site.

First, let’s make a link: Temple University.

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