One of my New Year's resolutions is to get out of the house more, so this morning I decided to go to the nearest Starbucks and work there.
The Starbucks, tucked away in the corner of an Acme supermarket, also shares the same space as a beer distributor store. Half the people coming in want coffee, the other half want alcohol. Nobody seems to bat an eye at this.
I sat and worked for about an hour, when a woman, probably age 65, walks in and sits down at a table to my left. Keep in mind, this Starbucks is not like most Starbucks where there’s a constant revolving door of people coming and going amidst a chaos of lattes and frappuccinos. No—this Starbucks is perhaps the quietest Starbucks I’ve ever been to. A few other people straggled in throughout the morning, but for the most part, the woman and I were the only two people there.
Around 11:00 a.m., I had to take a call with my boss. Immediately after the call, the woman turned to me and asked me a question.
“Excuse me, are you from Philly?”
I responded and explained that I’m from the Philly suburbs, a little past King of Prussia, but I live in South Philly now. She paused for a moment, and then continued, “Here you are, a young, well-spoken individual who is living and working remotely in South Philly. It’s amazing the opportunities that technology has provided for people.”
She asked me a few more questions about my job and then did that thing that only strangers do, where they proceed to tell you their entire life story. She was born in Philly, a daughter of immigrants (Irish mother and Polish father), but now lives in Maryland. She owns a house on Mifflin street in Philadelphia, and was home visiting relatives for Christmas and New Years.
Her father was told that he didn’t have good enough grades for high school, so he went to technical school instead. Soon after that, he enlisted in the military, where he was able to pick up some engineering skills. And soon after that, Japan attacked Pearl Harbor and the United States, along with this woman’s father, was swept up into World War 2.
He was stationed in the Philippines, where Japan had invaded and was massacring the Filipino people. About 100,000 Filipino people were killed or captured and about 23,000 Americans died defending the country. As it turns out, this woman’s father ended up taking a particular interest in radio technology. Through his own determination and curiosity, he learned the intricacies of the technology, and with his skills, built the first military radio communication system for the American soldiers stationed in the Philippines.
The man survived World War 2, made it home safely, and had a successful career in the military until he retired at age 62. He achieved several accolades throughout his career (I can’t remember them all now, the woman was speaking too quickly), and on the day he retired, a three-star general came to his retirement ceremony to acknowledge his service, which I’m told is a sign of great honor and respect.
The woman went on for 45 minutes telling this story (if my boss reads this, I promise I’ll work an extra hour at some point this week to make up for the time lost). About midway through, I wondered why she was telling me about her father in the first place.
At the end of her story, she finally explained her point, which was this: her father was an incredibly determined and brilliant man; if her father’s family wasn’t so poor, he probably should have been at Penn studying engineering. But in South Philly in the 1930’s, there was no opportunity for anyone. People worked grueling, physically demanding factory and shipyard jobs for 14 hours a day, then went to the nearest pub to drink and cope with the fact that they had to wake up again tomorrow to do it again, just to make sure that their families had enough food to survive.
There was no way out, there was no upward mobility, there was no one to tell you what path to take. This woman’s father was lucky; he stuck with the military and it paid off for him. He moved to Maryland after the war and was able to create a better life for himself there while all of his relatives stayed behind in Philadelphia.
The woman capped her story off by saying that she was happy that things have changed, that someone like me could live in the exact same neighborhood that she grew up in, that there seemed to be more opportunity for people living in Philadelphia because of the opportunities that technology has given us.
I thanked her, but it made me wonder—how many people living in South Philly actually feel that there are more opportunities?
Yes, I am one of the lucky ones. I work for a tech-related company, which allows me to work from my computer and make a great living. For that I am very thankful. But nonetheless, I am still an outsider. South Philly has traditionally been home to Italian Americans, but today is home to many Mexican and Chinese immigrants (there are of course other ethnicities in South Philly, but I am speaking specifically about the neighborhood that I live in).
It made me think about the role we all play in the community, about whether it’s better for things to change or stay the same, about who belongs and who doesn’t. There is of course no right answer. Everyone’s worldview and experiences are unique and different. For example, this woman seemed happy about the fact that Philly has progressed enough to the point that young professionals like myself can thrive, but at the same time, she expressed a sense of heartbreak at the fact that many of the traditions of her old neighborhood have been lost.
After speaking with her, the only thing I know to be true is this: Be a good neighbor.
I’m always amazed at what I learn about people, like this woman at Starbucks, just from talking to them and hearing their stories.
Get to know the people you live next to. Support local businesses. Talk to people on the street.
The world is undoubtedly a better place when we lend an ear to our neighbors.
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One of my New Year's resolutions is to get out of the house more, so this morning I decided to go to the nearest Starbucks and work there.
The Starbucks, tucked away in the corner of an Acme supermarket, also shares the same space as a beer distributor store. Half the people coming in want coffee, the other half want alcohol. Nobody seems to bat an eye at this.
I sat and worked for about an hour, when a woman, probably age 65, walks in and sits down at a table to my left. Keep in mind, this Starbucks is not like most Starbucks where there’s a constant revolving door of people coming and going amidst a chaos of lattes and frappuccinos. No—this Starbucks is perhaps the quietest Starbucks I’ve ever been to. A few other people straggled in throughout the morning, but for the most part, the woman and I were the only two people there.
Around 11:00 a.m., I had to take a call with my boss. Immediately after the call, the woman turned to me and asked me a question.
“Excuse me, are you from Philly?”
I responded and explained that I’m from the Philly suburbs, a little past King of Prussia, but I live in South Philly now. She paused for a moment, and then continued, “Here you are, a young, well-spoken individual who is living and working remotely in South Philly. It’s amazing the opportunities that technology has provided for people.”
She asked me a few more questions about my job and then did that thing that only strangers do, where they proceed to tell you their entire life story. She was born in Philly, a daughter of immigrants (Irish mother and Polish father), but now lives in Maryland. She owns a house on Mifflin street in Philadelphia, and was home visiting relatives for Christmas and New Years.
Her father was told that he didn’t have good enough grades for high school, so he went to technical school instead. Soon after that, he enlisted in the military, where he was able to pick up some engineering skills. And soon after that, Japan attacked Pearl Harbor and the United States, along with this woman’s father, was swept up into World War 2.
He was stationed in the Philippines, where Japan had invaded and was massacring the Filipino people. About 100,000 Filipino people were killed or captured and about 23,000 Americans died defending the country. As it turns out, this woman’s father ended up taking a particular interest in radio technology. Through his own determination and curiosity, he learned the intricacies of the technology, and with his skills, built the first military radio communication system for the American soldiers stationed in the Philippines.
The man survived World War 2, made it home safely, and had a successful career in the military until he retired at age 62. He achieved several accolades throughout his career (I can’t remember them all now, the woman was speaking too quickly), and on the day he retired, a three-star general came to his retirement ceremony to acknowledge his service, which I’m told is a sign of great honor and respect.
The woman went on for 45 minutes telling this story (if my boss reads this, I promise I’ll work an extra hour at some point this week to make up for the time lost). About midway through, I wondered why she was telling me about her father in the first place.
At the end of her story, she finally explained her point, which was this: her father was an incredibly determined and brilliant man; if her father’s family wasn’t so poor, he probably should have been at Penn studying engineering. But in South Philly in the 1930’s, there was no opportunity for anyone. People worked grueling, physically demanding factory and shipyard jobs for 14 hours a day, then went to the nearest pub to drink and cope with the fact that they had to wake up again tomorrow to do it again, just to make sure that their families had enough food to survive.
There was no way out, there was no upward mobility, there was no one to tell you what path to take. This woman’s father was lucky; he stuck with the military and it paid off for him. He moved to Maryland after the war and was able to create a better life for himself there while all of his relatives stayed behind in Philadelphia.
The woman capped her story off by saying that she was happy that things have changed, that someone like me could live in the exact same neighborhood that she grew up in, that there seemed to be more opportunity for people living in Philadelphia because of the opportunities that technology has given us.
I thanked her, but it made me wonder—how many people living in South Philly actually feel that there are more opportunities?
Yes, I am one of the lucky ones. I work for a tech-related company, which allows me to work from my computer and make a great living. For that I am very thankful. But nonetheless, I am still an outsider. South Philly has traditionally been home to Italian Americans, but today is home to many Mexican and Chinese immigrants (there are of course other ethnicities in South Philly, but I am speaking specifically about the neighborhood that I live in).
It made me think about the role we all play in the community, about whether it’s better for things to change or stay the same, about who belongs and who doesn’t. There is of course no right answer. Everyone’s worldview and experiences are unique and different. For example, this woman seemed happy about the fact that Philly has progressed enough to the point that young professionals like myself can thrive, but at the same time, she expressed a sense of heartbreak at the fact that many of the traditions of her old neighborhood have been lost.
After speaking with her, the only thing I know to be true is this: Be a good neighbor.
I’m always amazed at what I learn about people, like this woman at Starbucks, just from talking to them and hearing their stories.
Get to know the people you live next to. Support local businesses. Talk to people on the street.
The world is undoubtedly a better place when we lend an ear to our neighbors.
