Although SLA is located in the Logan Square neighborhood, its 120 or so students commute from all over the city, and many high schoolers in the neighborhood attend other schools.
With that in mind, I visited a few neighborhood businesses to get a sense of the surrounding area and how SLA fits in.
With that in mind, I visited a few neighborhood businesses to get a sense of the surrounding area and how SLA fits in.
Right across the street from SLA is Arch Gourmet (2200 Arch Street), a convenience store and deli. The woman working at the register who helps run the store gets excited when I tell her I'm going to be teaching at SLA—she says she loves the school, her sons just graduated from there, and that the students, teachers, and principal come to the store all the time—"they are all very nice." The store seems to do a steady business and she says that it gets much more crowded when school starts back.
On the other hand, the bartender at Cherry Street Tavern (N 22nd and Cherry) has never heard of SLA. "Where is that?" she asks. "Is it nearby?" D., the bartender, is female, probably mid-late 20s, and an art school graduate (she studied painting) who commutes to the bar for work. She grew up in the suburbs of Philly and moved to the city for school. She describes the neighborhood as being slightly less nondescript and boring than the suburbs: “It’s Center City, you know?” She also gives me a brief history of the bar.
The bar has been there since the early 1900s, has changed hands a few times since then, and became Cherry Street Tavern in the 1990s. At the moment, it's the middle of the day and the barstools are occupied by a handful of older, somewhat overweight white men, who all seem lost in their thoughts. I get the distinct sense this somewhat clean, not-particularly-well-lighted place is a magnet for some of the old-timers in the area—at least during the day. During the short time I’m there, the guy next to me works his way steadily though several Heinekens and a hoagie, staying glued to his iPhone the entire time. I probably could start up a few conversations and hear some stories, if I had the time and patience, but I’m finding the day-drinking atmosphere depressing (although I'm enjoying my conversation with D.), so I opt to trade the cool confines of the bar for warm sunshine.
Walking east from SLA, I step into Aya’s Café (Arch St & N Beechwood) and immediately get that slightly intimidated feeling that I have whenever I walk into a place where everyone is dressed way more nicely than I am. It’s a slightly upscale Mediterranean restaurant that seems popular with working professionals in the area. I awkwardly thumb through a take-out menu (everything is a little out of my price range) while the waiters casually ignore me, then quickly move on....
I ring the doorbell of Wedding Factor (N 21st and Appletree, conveniently located right next door to Pete’s Famous Pizza) and a tired-looking middle-aged woman opens the door. Inside the shop, there are boxes scattered across the floor. She tells me she’s in the midst of unpacking and organizing them. She opened the business around a year ago, and didn’t know much about the area at the time, but she needed a storefront and landed on that space. She sells bridal dresses that cost $5000 and up. The store is open by appointment only. There are no appointments at the moment.
Back out on the street, I pass by a mailman and he tells me, "it’s a pretty good neighborhood--nice and quiet.”
I stop in the Jewish Community Services Building (2100 Arch Street), home of the Jewish Federation of Greater Philadelphia, along with several other organizations: a Jewish immigrant and refugee organization and the Jewish Publication Society. The friendly woman in the lobby tells me that they moved into the building around 15 years ago--it had previously fallen into disuse. (She’s not Jewish and doesn’t live in the neighborhood, but she works there.) The Jewish Federation relocated to that building largely because it was inexpensive (although they did need to renovate it). At the time, the buildings in the area were “largely abandoned” but since then, there has been a good deal of renewal, and real estate prices have gone up. The day I stopped by, they were preparing for an appearance by Gov. Corbett, for a ceremony commemorating the recently-passed Holocaust and genocide education bill. Unfortunately, I hadn't RSVP'd, so I headed back out onto the street.
On the other hand, the bartender at Cherry Street Tavern (N 22nd and Cherry) has never heard of SLA. "Where is that?" she asks. "Is it nearby?" D., the bartender, is female, probably mid-late 20s, and an art school graduate (she studied painting) who commutes to the bar for work. She grew up in the suburbs of Philly and moved to the city for school. She describes the neighborhood as being slightly less nondescript and boring than the suburbs: “It’s Center City, you know?” She also gives me a brief history of the bar.
The bar has been there since the early 1900s, has changed hands a few times since then, and became Cherry Street Tavern in the 1990s. At the moment, it's the middle of the day and the barstools are occupied by a handful of older, somewhat overweight white men, who all seem lost in their thoughts. I get the distinct sense this somewhat clean, not-particularly-well-lighted place is a magnet for some of the old-timers in the area—at least during the day. During the short time I’m there, the guy next to me works his way steadily though several Heinekens and a hoagie, staying glued to his iPhone the entire time. I probably could start up a few conversations and hear some stories, if I had the time and patience, but I’m finding the day-drinking atmosphere depressing (although I'm enjoying my conversation with D.), so I opt to trade the cool confines of the bar for warm sunshine.
Walking east from SLA, I step into Aya’s Café (Arch St & N Beechwood) and immediately get that slightly intimidated feeling that I have whenever I walk into a place where everyone is dressed way more nicely than I am. It’s a slightly upscale Mediterranean restaurant that seems popular with working professionals in the area. I awkwardly thumb through a take-out menu (everything is a little out of my price range) while the waiters casually ignore me, then quickly move on....
I ring the doorbell of Wedding Factor (N 21st and Appletree, conveniently located right next door to Pete’s Famous Pizza) and a tired-looking middle-aged woman opens the door. Inside the shop, there are boxes scattered across the floor. She tells me she’s in the midst of unpacking and organizing them. She opened the business around a year ago, and didn’t know much about the area at the time, but she needed a storefront and landed on that space. She sells bridal dresses that cost $5000 and up. The store is open by appointment only. There are no appointments at the moment.
Back out on the street, I pass by a mailman and he tells me, "it’s a pretty good neighborhood--nice and quiet.”
I stop in the Jewish Community Services Building (2100 Arch Street), home of the Jewish Federation of Greater Philadelphia, along with several other organizations: a Jewish immigrant and refugee organization and the Jewish Publication Society. The friendly woman in the lobby tells me that they moved into the building around 15 years ago--it had previously fallen into disuse. (She’s not Jewish and doesn’t live in the neighborhood, but she works there.) The Jewish Federation relocated to that building largely because it was inexpensive (although they did need to renovate it). At the time, the buildings in the area were “largely abandoned” but since then, there has been a good deal of renewal, and real estate prices have gone up. The day I stopped by, they were preparing for an appearance by Gov. Corbett, for a ceremony commemorating the recently-passed Holocaust and genocide education bill. Unfortunately, I hadn't RSVP'd, so I headed back out onto the street.
At Greene Town Montessori School (21st and Arch St.) located across the street from SLA, I talk with N. (an administrator) and M. (a teacher who has been teaching there off and on since 1976). They tell me that the school was founded by “urban pioneers” (whom they describe as young professionals just starting out that didn’t have much money) who moved to the neighborhood when it was still very affordable. For years, it was for years “the only game in town” as far as preschool and kindergarten options, and it operated on the third floor of a nearby church. They bought and renovated an abandoned building in the late 90s, around 15 years ago and that is the space that we are currently sitting in.
In the past 10 years, four other preschools have opened--and they are all currently operating at full capacity (and the Montessori school has expanded even more since then). These include a bilingual French-English school, the French Communication Institute, located just around the corner. “We used to close at 2:30 every day,” M. says, but now their hours are much longer to cater to the needs of the wealthier community (where both parents may work during the day). Tuition has increased significantly since the "old days," and the staff is growing. Nevertheless, some families from the old days have opted to remain in the neighborhood, and the kids who went to school there in the 1970s and 80s are now sending their kids there. Afterwards, the youngsters usually enroll in private schools or at Greenfield Elementary School. There doesn't seem to be a strong connection between their graduates and SLA at this time, although N. and M. express a great deal of admiration for the school.
N. and M. give me a brief history of the area since the school opened: it was traditionally an industrial area and working class neighborhood that experienced a period of decline before an "urban renewal" effort that really took off around the late 1990s—“that’s when the money came in and the high rises started going up," N. tells me. (They point out one building in particular that has seen a lot of change over the years.)
Another building illustrates their point as well: an industrial building converted into residential units, with a Trader Joe's on the bottom floor.
In the past 10 years, four other preschools have opened--and they are all currently operating at full capacity (and the Montessori school has expanded even more since then). These include a bilingual French-English school, the French Communication Institute, located just around the corner. “We used to close at 2:30 every day,” M. says, but now their hours are much longer to cater to the needs of the wealthier community (where both parents may work during the day). Tuition has increased significantly since the "old days," and the staff is growing. Nevertheless, some families from the old days have opted to remain in the neighborhood, and the kids who went to school there in the 1970s and 80s are now sending their kids there. Afterwards, the youngsters usually enroll in private schools or at Greenfield Elementary School. There doesn't seem to be a strong connection between their graduates and SLA at this time, although N. and M. express a great deal of admiration for the school.
N. and M. give me a brief history of the area since the school opened: it was traditionally an industrial area and working class neighborhood that experienced a period of decline before an "urban renewal" effort that really took off around the late 1990s—“that’s when the money came in and the high rises started going up," N. tells me. (They point out one building in particular that has seen a lot of change over the years.)
Another building illustrates their point as well: an industrial building converted into residential units, with a Trader Joe's on the bottom floor.
In general, the sense I get is that people in the area may know about SLA and respect its reputation but they aren't likely to have a direct connection to the school.