A love letter to Philadelphia

This week marks two decades for me in the City of Brotherly Love.

I’m a child of Evangelical Christian Egyptian immigrants. I grew up in Pennsylvania, rebelled against my fundamentalist faith, and, with my broken Arabic, and progressive politics, struggled to find a place in my hometown, in my mother country, and even within myself. This week marks twenty years in a city I am now proud to call home, so I want to say what Philadelphia has meant to me.

I applied for college at Temple University at the behest of my dear high school newspaper adviser, Mr. Gates, who said it was a good school for aspiring journalists. Mom and Dad reluctantly agreed. I remember when Mom drove me to Philadelphia to study journalism here. Dad said he had to work and couldn’t come, but the old man surprised me when he drove separately and greeted me on the shores of Johnson and Hardwick, the dusty dormitory on North Broad street that I’d call home my first year in Philly. I was stationed on the blisteringly hot eleventh floor during one of Philly’s so-called “Indian summers.” The heat pounded through the roof and made my corner room feel like a sauna.

My hair was poofy at the time and I often wore blazers, which led my political science professor to innocently ask what my appearance might be signaling, “politically.” I promptly shaved my head after that, and did so periodically in the years to come.

Desperate for approval and also for finding an identity, I pushed forward on an antiwar path, protesting Bush's quagmire war in Iraq. I wanted to hold on to my faith– the faith that my parents were certain that godless, secular Philadelphia would consume. To this day, they wish I had attended Liberty University, the bastion of Evangelical purity. My sister and many of my cousin’s went to Jerry Falwell’s Baptist school and I was supposed to do the same, but I knew then as I know now, that Liberty’s fundmentalism would have made me run from my faith.

It was hard to find and keep my faith coming from an enclave where George W. Bush was the Evangelical savior, after eight years of “ immoral” Bill Clinton. How could I hold on to my faith and also oppose war? For that, I am grateful to have landed in Philadelphia and found an Anabaptist community where I could follow Jesus and oppose war. Philadelphia introduced me to Anabaptism, and I still cling tightly to our precious tradition. I’ve made it my vocation, as well. I thank God that Philly became a town where I could pastor. I thank God for the chance to serve Mennonite Church U.S. and the lovely people at West Philadelphia Mennonite Fellowship. Philly made my faith as resilient to a beating as Philadelphia itself is. A little grit never hurt anyone, and Philly taught me that.

Amidst the grit was more political formation and action. Philadelphia, a rapidly gentrifying city, ignited in me a passion for affordable housing. My work at the Philadelphia Coalition of Affordable Communities remains a set of treasured opportunities. We want to make Philly affordable and beautiful and we are doing it.

The Eagles ended their season 13-3 that first year in Philly, and had a 13-1 start, and if it weren't for some late-night partying by Donovan McNabb, we could have won that Super Bowl against Tom Brady and the Patriots. Alas, joy met with heartbreak. Thanks to Nick Foles, the Eagles and I paraded their first and only Super Bowl victory in 2017. But at the time, eager to taste victory, I turned to the Phillies.

My dorm mate and fellow journalism student would play baseball games every night. At the time, I was more interested in Kubrick movies than in the Phillies, but in the aftermath of the demise of the Sixers, I wanted to become a fan of another sport, and another team, in order to have a chance to win again. The Phillies took a few seasons to get to the World Series, but they did, in 2008. What an incredible moment, and even more incredible that it came right as Barack Obama was elected as the first Black president in US history. Celebrating both historic victories with Philadelphia was oh- so- special. All of that happened during my first, tear-filled, year of teaching high school social studies in the School District of Philadelphia–—the very district my children attend now (and the one that I spent my early years in Philly advocating for as an education activist—shout out to the Teacher Action Group!) Philly also has become a home for them.

Philly not only strengthened and grew my faith and my sports fandom, it expanded my palette. What an amazing culinary playground we have here! Cheesesteaks are just the start. I hope you will also enjoy a Vietnamese bahn mi at Fu Wah, a soup dumpling at Dim Sum Garden, some delectable pizza at Angelo’s or Beddia, or just a perfectly layered Italian hoagie (try Liberty Kitchen’s).

What’s more, all of the punk rock angst that I brought with me from Lebanon County met its match in Philadelphia’s music scene. Every major act I loved visited our city, and I got to enjoy them perform live at a number of venues. Whether it was listening to Bright Eyes at the Academy of Music, or getting tossed while listening to NOFX down the shore, or hearing MxPx in the basement of the First Unitarian Church, there may not be a happier duo than Philadelphia and my ringing ears. Even at my current age, I still crowd surf and find my way to the mosh pit. The bruises I thereby earn, prove it next day.

One of the best parts of going to shows at night is the bike ride to get there. Without parking as a concern, saddling up on one of my stallions (I’ve gone through a few now) has become a pastime, as much as a practicality. Though we continue to advocate for safer streets for biking, Philadelphia has sustained my biking hobby and it remains one of my preferred modes of transport.

Philadelphia also taught me to love the shore again. I grew up going to Ocean City, Maryland, but being just one hour west of the Jersey Shore made beach trips even easier and became a part of summer life. Atlantic City with its lack of beach passes and casino bathrooms is my obvious and first choice. The beach is so much part of how I enjoy life, I can hardly imagine living in a landlocked state hours from the mighty Atlantic. What a blessing we have.

Through a series of happy accidents, Philadelphia also gave me a community of friends who have been with me through thick and thin. Some of them, I am sure, I will love for the rest of my life, and you know who you are. I’m glad to have found my people, a new chosen family, in this historic city. Many have come and gone, and may God be with them, but for those who continue to call this beautiful city home, I am glad to have made a life with you. 

Of late, Philadelphia has also introduced me to my “avian kin,” as a dear friend calls them. Philly is home to a variety of bird species and it has been delightful getting to know them. My ears are tuned in to their calls and songs, even above the bustling noise of the city. And when the city’s buzz is just a little too loud, I can retreat to the Wissahickon, or John Heinz Wildlife Refuge, or even my favorite “thin place,” the Franciscan hermitage in Aston, PA, just south of here.

I met God in Philadelphia, raised my children here, biked from one end to another, ate much delicious food, listened to impassioned rock acts, tasted the salty shore, listened to the cry of the mourning dove, met my community, my loves, my friends, and held on to my faith and vocation while doing it. A very happy Philadelphia anniversary to me. Here’s to twenty more. Go Birds!