drexel university: Philadelphia Metropolis
With the fall semester underway, reporter Connie Langland visited two Philadelphia high schools to take a measure of how the schools and teachers were doing early in the semester. The two schools -- University City and Gratz -- have undergone major changes in recent years, each taking a different approach to the same end: improving student performance. The story opens with a day in the life of UC teacher A.J. Schiera.
Herb Shallcross is a fourth generation Fishtowner who has witnessed the changes that have taken place in this tightly-knit neighborhood over the last 20 years - from working class enclave to one of the hippest parts of town. He profiles Fishtown - old and new - in this installment of our My Philadelphia series.
Faith in Philadelphia steadily hums under the hustle of city life, 330 years after the city was founded. We tend to forget Philadelphia's religious origins, but William Penn did intend this place to be a "Holy Experiment," the locus of a new faith called Quakerism, founded on what were then -- in some places still are -- such alien ideas as tolerance and freedom of religion. Even in its earliest days, the city was a refuge for religious groups scorned or persecuted elsewhere in the New World; Jews and Catholics, to name two.
Even in these secular, materialistic times, faith still infuses city life, and not just in the mainstream churches and congregations. I went looking off the main paths for examples and it didn't take long to find them. The four documented here serve as examples of the myriad variety of religion in the city.
By Ada Kulesza»
Everyone talks about what poor teenagers eat. At Metropolis, we decided to take it a step further: We asked them what they eat. For two weeks, two 18-year-olds texted details of their daily intake to reporter Ada Kulesza. The results are illuminating and surprising. So, sit down with a piece of chocolate cake, a Coke, a half-dozen cookies and a bag of Doritos and read: Diary of A Teenage Eater.
By O.K. Pham»
"I don't think of you as Vietnamese anymore-- just as my wife."
My husband Shaun stated as he leaned back in his chair, after a thoughtful sip of his Saison. We were savoring a backyard lunch together on one of those perfect Saturday afternoons in late June. I stared at him across the table where a dwindling platter of steamed corn and grilled London broil sat.The kids had already run off after devouring their lunch, treating us to the luxury of an uninterrupted conversation. My gaze fell from my husband's red hair to his grayish blue eyes, before finding the smile that had been the prelude to our many dialogues.