Large blue blocks for kids free#

Large blue blocks for kids free#

Later, the Civil War and the Great Migration made the first free city north of the Mason-Dixon a hub for abolitionism and communities of formerly enslaved people. Philadelphia was once the gathering place of radicals plotting to overthrow the British crown, and George Washington turned the tides of the Revolution on the Delaware River just north of the city limits. More than that, underdoggedness is axiological to this city since its founding. The blue-collar culture that feels gruff to outsiders is really just a no-nonsense approach to communication. And somewhere along the way, it seems Philadelphians decided it was better to be infamous than forgotten.īut I like to think maybe we’re just misunderstood. Though the city was once the economic and political epicenter of the nation, today only about a quarter of Americans can correctly identify the Philadelphia skyline. And Philadelphians certainly do play the class clown for attention, making headlines for pelting Santa Claus with snowballs, throwing pool parties in dumpsters and stealing police horses. My husband likes to say that Philadelphia suffers from Little Brotheritis, being so near to New York and Washington, D.C. No surprise, then, that feelings of abandonment and the city’s struggle to keep up with its neighboring metropolises have led to some sizable chips on the shoulders of its residents. But what works for the rural and agrarian parts of the state leaves an urban center like Philadelphia hamstrung. As a result, economic growth in Pennsylvania is at only half the rate of the rest of the country since the Great Depression, a statistic so stark that it’s difficult to argue it’s anything less than intentional. For its part, the state of Pennsylvania has held tight to its foundational Quaker values, namely a laissez-faire approach to government (except where alcohol is involved–then the grip is vise-like). Many surrounding suburbs have crafted zoning ordinances that block the construction of affordable housing units within town limits, cementing a classist and often racist divide between the city and its suburbs. Though Philadelphia and New York are less than 100 miles apart, public transportation between the two leaves something to be desired, with the schedules for SEPTA’s Philly to Trenton River line and NJ Transit’s Northeast Corridor sometimes failing to line up at all. A deeply tangled chicken-and-egg mess of political cronyism, failing public schools, the loss of over 300,000 manufacturing jobs in the latter half of the 20th century and the unrelenting crush of systemic racism and mass incarceration are to blame. It’s poor–the poorest large city in the United States, with 25 percent of residents living below the poverty line. It’s dangerous here, with pockets of the city leveled by the opioid crisis, and far more murders per capita than New York City or Los Angeles. It’s always been filthy, dirtier still after yet another deep cut to the sanitation budget in 2009 eliminated street cleaning. On the surface, there’s a lot to dislike about Philadelphia. And I was undeniably a nerd, always with my head in a novel, writing secret poetry, bumbling through the school play because I knew that at least the theater kids would talk to me.įinally, I graduated high school and made a break for it–no more treading water in a stagnant city where the subway still inexplicably ran on tokens. Everyone I knew (myself included) was proud of their working-class roots, but in the hands of teenagers, this pride was quickly bastardized into the notion that being a good student was uncool or somehow disloyal. We skipped school to see the Dalí centennial at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, walked South Street at dusk, gorging ourselves on water ice and dreaming up the tattoos we’d get when we turned 18. I took refuge in the emo and punk scene at the city’s Electric Factory warehouse, where my friends and I shouted for Dashboard Confessional and Alkaline Trio. I couldn’t imagine a scenario in which I would willingly announce to the world that no one liked me, even if I often believed it to be true. Growing up outside the northeast boundary of the city, I was a self-conscious kid whom the popular kids occasionally sniped at but mostly just ignored. I CAN’T REMEMBER the occasion for which I first heard Philly’s unofficial theme song–sung to the tune of “Found a Peanut,” most likely by a crowd of drunk Eagles fans–but I do remember thinking it was fucking depressing. Originally published in our 2020 guide to Philadelphia We’re from Philly, fuckin’ Philly, no one likes us, we don’t care. No one likes us, no one likes us, no one likes us, we don’t care.