A is for Aspiring Educators at Penn
If you reach into the depths of your brain, back to the fuzzy memories of your 10–year–old self, do you remember your favorite elementary school teacher?
Below are your search results. You can also try a Basic Search.
If you reach into the depths of your brain, back to the fuzzy memories of your 10–year–old self, do you remember your favorite elementary school teacher?
Content warning for mention of rape, sexual assault, and suicidality.
Sprawling green plants—real and illustrated—usher me into the windowed entrance of Hibiscus Cafe. Located on the corner of 49th and Catharine streets, the restaurant specializes in Caribbean–inspired vegetarian dishes and a wide array of fruit drinks. Hibiscus has been open for nearly ten years, offering great options for vegan and non–vegan eaters alike.
Although climate change has gained more mainstream public attention in recent years, the meaning of terms like sustainability and eco–friendly have become increasingly nebulous. Many of the reasons for this issue aren’t mere coincidence. For years, greenwashing has been used as a tactic by corporations who co–opt the language of sustainability for advertising purposes, while failing to make actual changes to their environmentally unsustainable business practices, and continuing to cause material harm to the environment and marginalized communities across the world.
The shops, businesses, and curbside vendors that line 9th Street—better collectively known as the “Italian Market”—have been a hallmark of South Philadelphia for over 100 years. The Italian Market is open every day of the week and offers a vast array of food products, including fresh produce, cheeses, meats, and seafood that color the outdoor stands and street–side stores during the early hours of the day. Local restaurant gems and specialty stores that sell items like pasta, spices, and baked goods are also an integral part of the South Philly food shopping hub.
We often don’t think of love as a radical act. From varying depictions of love in cheesy early 2000s rom–coms to the complex love we hold for our friends, our family, or even ourselves, love is something that is shared with another. But what does it mean to have love for a community—to practice love and care through advocacy and collective action?
2021 was a year for workers. COVID-19 affected nearly 22 million people who were laid off in the first few months of the pandemic, simultaneously giving rise to the label “essential worker”—individuals who risked their lives to keep our economy and society running. While this population was designated to be economically necessary, corporations failed to translate their "appreciation" into tangible support. Workers were continued to be paid low wages, denied hazard pay, and even in the midst of a pandemic, not given proper access to personal protective equipment (PPE) like masks or face shields.
The viral Youtuber apology video has become its own niche genre on the Internet. After an influencer is exposed for a scandal or otherwise heinous action, viewers can expect to see a cookie–cutter apology video posted a few weeks later, equipped with a solemn–faced thumbnail picture and a cliché about how this is the hardest video they've ever had to make. While most YouTubers talk about being better and taking accountability, what do they actually mean? In these apology videos, the term “accountability” is used haphazardly, reduced to a buzzword rather than a meaningful action to address harm.
Some of the hottest shows and films today seem to share a common thread: a critique of capitalism. Squid Game, a show depicting the violence of capitalist competition through a series of life–or–death children’s games, was recently announced the most popular series launch on Netflix. The show follows the massive success of the 2019 film Parasite, a Korean thriller film examining poverty and class antagonism through the interconnecting stories of three families.
Gwen Stefani is known for her iconic pop hits of the early 2000s—and also a slew of public controversies.
As COVID–19 traveling guidelines are increasingly being relaxed or lifted, “coronacations” seem to have returned in full swing. Especially with the upcoming holiday season, many are in the midst of planning their travel itineraries. While vacations during the ongoing pandemic have become more normalized, it is crucial to acknowledge that the effects of unfettered traveling have been devastating for populations that reside in visitor hotspots.
If you’re into polymer clay earrings, sustainable crochet, stunning watercolor portraits, and everything in between, the Feminist Flea Market & Craft Fair is the place to be.
Located on Girard Avenue, Marlei's Sweet Tooth is Philly's newest ice cream shop serving playful twists on signature flavors, making for a dessert experience that's far from boring.
Nothing describes the culture of “aestheticized” online activism better than the infamous Instagram infographic. Posted as a series of aesthetically pleasing slides, Instagram infographics usually attempt to share information on a wide range of social justice issues. Accounts such as @feminist, @so.informed (previously @soyouwanttotalkabout), and @goodgoodgoodco are just a few of the social justice–oriented accounts that have recently skyrocketed in popularity—garnering thousands, if not millions, of followers.
This year, we felt and witnessed the disastrous effects of the climate crisis. Droughts and wildfires have ravaged California, forcing tens of thousands of people to flee their homes. Just recently, Hurricane Ida devastated multiple areas across Louisiana, New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania, triggering flash floods that have killed dozens of residents in the Northeast.
What is a “generous billionaire"?
Earlier this summer, a white woman crowned herself the “Queen of Congee." Karen Taylor, founder of the Oregon–based company Breakfast Cure, sells prepackaged kits of congee, a rice porridge commonly eaten across Asia and the Asian diaspora. The staple dish is both culturally and historically significant, with a rich culinary legacy that can be traced back to the Chinese Zhou dynasty.
Food is political—despite being a basic necessity for life, access to it is deeply inequitable.
For most of us, punitive justice is all we know. From the moment we enter the school system as children, we’re exposed to multiple forms of punishment—facing suspension for breaking the dress code, or being isolated in 'time out zones' when we’re being too disruptive in class. The reliance on punishment as the primary response to harm is engrained into our social structures, from prisons and schools to our own family networks. As author and activist adrienne maree brown indicates, when we cause harm, the knee–jerk reaction is often to remove us from our community in some way.
Underrepresented communities proved to be an instrumental force in ensuring Joe Biden’s victory in the 2020 presidential election. BIPOC organizers and coalitions registered thousands of community members across the country and arrived at the polls in record numbers. President Biden isn't unaware of this reality either; after specifically acknowledging Black voters’ role in securing the election in his victory speech, he promised, “Especially those moments when this campaign was at its lowest end, the African American community stood up again for me. You always had my back, and I'll have yours.”
Get 34th Street's newsletter, The Toast, delivered to your inbox every Friday morning.
Newsletters