Moving West (Philly)

Maybe I'm in denial that I'm still living on the East Coast, so I decided to transition west -- to West Philadelphia. Moving out of a home with loving friends and a cozy feeling, stimulating conversation, and a communal presence was a tough decision. But with most other things in my life, I find myself bouncing when I get too comfortable.

With the move came new thoughts around community, and more significantly what I want my community to hold. The importance of diversity, surrounding yourself with large trees, backyards, food variety, mixed peoples, and porches. As I am feeling accepted in a new place, as a white face, I see that my neighbors are different than they have ever been. Not only because of race but because of their ability to actually talk to each other. What a thought. Smiling faces and lots of "How are yas?" as you walk down the block, with kids all bundled ready to topple over into the brown snow. And this is in the winter! I can feel a difference in the pace -- slower walking, catching up when bumping into neighbors, slight peace in the quiet and open streets. I am only imagine what will fill the porches as the cherry blossoms bloom. I am grateful for this community that is so present, but am I an outsider who continues to pollute this beautiful and rich environment of camaraderie and culture? To me, Philly is incredibly biracial (Wiki agrees). Often separated.  I've talked about this numerous times, with those back home in California, and with friends in Philly, and West Philly folk, but I haven't felt any closure on the topic. Maybe I shouldn't feel closure.

It's fascinating because I have friends on all sides of me in this neighborhood, coming from the same background (educated, upper/middle class, mostly suburban upbringings, current Philly transplants). We love the neighborhood and people take real pride in West Philly (west philly best philly anyone!?). Like they own the place. I feel mixed, conflicted (always...) about who I am and where I fit in during this brief stay. Am I just a privleged white girl in a neighborhood, diluting the culture? Maybe I'm not a pest. I'm just exposing myself to the kindness that can be cultivated in the dirty streets of an urban place. Or I'm possibly being destuctive. 

I'm not feeling any animosity. This could possibly be an internal battle, those internal struggles that we combate and never really understand. But probably not. 

I want to be in a place where cultures converge, share, and grow together. Is this a possibility in this country rooted in racism, with growing disparities, hatred, and fear? 

Is change destructive? Or is resisting change destructive?