322 items found for your search. If no results were found please broaden your search.
(10/18/24 2:12pm)
Parallel to the rushing traffic of Arch Street is a large stage. A crowd gathers on the sidewalks packed tighter than a tin of sardines. Perpendicular to Arch on 10th Street, which has been temporarily shut down, sits rows of folding chairs. Not a single one is empty. All heads are turned towards the scene unfolding onstage. A woman gracefully dances with two swords. The background music is nearly inaudible over the racket of city noise, but a hushed silence hangs over the engaged audience.
(10/12/24 9:12pm)
Every year, Street's Dining Guide brings to campus the best new restaurants for those weekends off–campus or roommate date nights. This year's theme is “Home Is Where the Hearth Is.” Street writers travelled to restaurants across Philly reviewing restaurants that serve up culture and comfort with each dish. Between bites, we spoke to restaurant owners and chefs about what it means to build a community around food. From the quintessential Philly classic of Angelo's to new Puerto Rican pop–ups, this collection of reviews captures Philly in all its love and labor.
(10/25/24 5:39am)
Now at the age of (relative) maturity, mid–2000s babies have only glimpsed a political world of scandal and the bitter vicissitudes of changing regimes. Through the meteoric rise of Donald Trump, the mixed bag of Joe Biden, and now a tenuous future under either Trump or Kamala Harris, today's youth can’t be blamed for feeling estranged from the political process, as if watching a bad television show with the same sorry cast of actors every year. The response of some to this political circus has been to harbor a sense of doubt about the system, and not participate; others feel the uneasiness and want to do something about it. Most, however, have a certain presentiment about this election: It is pivotal for the direction of the country.
(09/27/24 4:00am)
There are beehives on Penn’s campus, but finding them is no easy feat. Past Franklin Field, over a set of railroad tracks, and around the Hamlin Tennis Center, they’re tucked away in Penn Park. Once you’ve made it that far, you’re close, but still, you can hardly notice the bees’ presence. After all, the hives are hidden away in a dell behind thick brush, in an otherwise unassuming wooden shed. But once you trek through the overgrowth and open the door, a new world is uncovered.
(10/11/24 4:00am)
If you live west of the Schuylkill River, you’ve (hopefully) heard of Abyssinia, the Ethiopian restaurant on 45th and Walnut streets. In 1983, Red Sea, named after the Indian Ocean inlet separating Eritrea from Saudi Arabia and Yemen, became the first Eri–Ethiopian restaurant to exist in Philadelphia. Twenty years later, Ethiopian immigrant Tedla Abraham took over the restaurant with his former business partner. Since renaming the restaurant and replacing the windows and floors in 1995, Abraham has been serving up farm–to–table Ethiopian dishes, paying homage to the country, people, and food that raised him.
(09/20/24 4:00am)
There’s a good chance you’ve already violated the Temporary Standards and Procedures for Campus Events and Demonstrations this semester. You violated section five, clause A when you played “Von dutch” on your WONDERBOOM as you walked across Locust Walk to that 11:30 p.m. pregame; section three, clauses D, E, and G when your consulting club held an initiation event after–dark at The Button without registering with University Life Space and Events Management; section six, clause A, point two when you used spray chalk, instead of sticks, to advertise your a cappella show in front of the high rises.
(09/13/24 7:30am)
As a photographer, you dream of getting “that shot.” The shot that will make up for all of the times you took a bad iPhone photo for your friend’s Instagram. All of those hours of practicing composition will be worthwhile for that one photo. The frantic pursuit of “the shot” was on full display in the spin room following the 2024 presidential debate. Fighting through a mob of photographers to photograph former president Donald Trump, a photographer’s hairy arm grazed my mouth and a camera the size of a baby knocked my chin out of view. I stopped to look at the enormous crowd of photographers and journalists around me.
(08/30/24 4:00am)
On the afternoon of April 25, the Gaza Solidarity Encampment was set in motion. Earlier that day, a protest—organized by the Philly Palestine Coalition—began at City Hall and marched its way throughout Philadelphia, arriving at Penn’s campus by 4 p.m. It culminated with protesters pitching about 20 tents on College Green, with the support of an organized faculty walkout. The encampment, joining an ongoing international struggle, began.
(06/28/24 3:52am)
“I don't really know how to react to people when they say, ‘Oh, I saw that you're endangered.’ It's not a congratulations, that's for sure,” Alan Takashi Riley says.
(05/31/24 5:15am)
What if I told you that your neighborhood doctor, global–business and manufacturing CEOs, and an esteemed professor were once radical Philadelphia activists? Nearly 40 years ago, they belonged to an intimate community of Penn students who led the crusade against the university’s investment in apartheid South Africa. You may not guess it at first glance—they bear little resemblance to the bright–eyed teens (or “scruffy hippies,” as the now–professor and lawyer self–describes) who fought the Penn administration all those years ago—but that same fire is visible after mere minutes into speaking with each.
(05/17/24 5:00am)
For the Class of 2024, every student remembers where they were when they saw the news—the bleak headlines of the COVID–19 era were the backdrop for the beginning of their undergraduate careers. These memories play through the minds of this year’s graduating class when they reflect on their first year at Penn.
(04/26/24 4:00am)
The reveal of Gossip Girl’s identity during the hit 2010s show’s series finale in 2012 was a closing door on paper, an albeit disappointing end to the anonymous figure which tormented Blair Waldorf and teen viewers alike. In real life, the domination of anonymous not–so–social media, however, had only just begun. Within the year of the show’s close, Yik Yak, ASKfm, and Whisper had wriggled their way onto the iPhone 5s of middle and high school students, bringing with them a slew of controversies in schools across the nation.
(04/12/24 4:00am)
An impatient motorist honks incessantly on Walnut Street. Hundreds peck away at their Macbook keyboards in Van Pelt. A freshman unleashes an ear–splitting scream as “Love Story” starts playing in a frat basement. From its loudest parties to its most solitary corners, Penn’s campus is bursting with sound, not all of it particularly desirable. But escape to the top floor of Fisher Bennett, or the depths of Platt Performing Arts House, and you might hear something unexpected. Entering those halls, the stray notes of instruments being tuned and singers doing warm–ups wash over you. Like the horns of the Angel Gabriel, they announce that you have entered another realm—one alien to the one most of us inhabit. Welcome to the world of Penn musicians.
(04/19/24 2:39pm)
When the inaugural Spring Fling was held in 1973, with performers including Zack’s Band, Glass, and The Jesse Clanton Band, students rejoiced at the opportunity to revel in the arrival of spring and the impending end to the academic year.
(03/29/24 4:00am)
You’re probably not very funny.
(03/22/24 4:00am)
Content warning: The following text describes disordered eating, student assault, and death.
(04/05/24 4:08am)
When visitors walk through the main entrance of the Penn Museum, they are greeted by one of the signature items in the museum’s collection: a 13–ton granite sphinx dating from the reign of Egyptian Pharaoh Ramses II in the 13th century BCE, the largest such object in the Western Hemisphere. Next to the entrance hall lies a gallery dedicated entirely to people from a different part of the world, and one much closer to Philadelphia. Through a pair of double doors to the left of the sphinx lies an exhibition titled “Native American Voices,” dedicated to describing the past and present Indigenous communities where the U.S. and Canada now reside.
(03/15/24 2:49am)
Early in the morning of June 16, 1915, professor Scott Nearing received notice about his dismissal from Penn. “As the term of your appointment as assistant professor of economics for 1914–1915 is about to expire,” disclosed the letter from the Provost, “I am directed by the trustees of the University of Pennsylvania to inform you that it will not be renewed."
(02/23/24 5:00am)
Obama, Trump, and Biden walk into a bar and talk about baking gingerbread cookies. This scenario has likely never happened in real life, but on TikTok, you can find an audio recording of this conversation happening, down to the correct voices and all. It’s pretty obvious from the context that the recording is fake, and most people who encounter it will probably find it funny, regardless of what side of the political spectrum they’re on. But the recording itself begs the question: What if we didn’t have that context to know that the recording was fake? What if the three presidents had been discussing something other than baking gingerbread cookies? Given that people now have the technology to create videos of anyone doing anything, how can we tell what is real and what is not?
(02/16/24 6:17am)
Apple cider donuts, gravelly cello music, a vegetable stand run entirely by three blond tweens, and wailing children scraping their knees in the middle of the street. Who runs Clark Park?
