West Philadelphia is very much the land of the haves and the have-nots. In this corner, we have Penn -- verdant, vibrant, flowing with magnanimity and inundated with cash. Trees and cobblestone cover the campus to create our own special oasis in the city.
And in the other corner we have, well, the rest of West Philadelphia. It's not quite as pretty, not quite as scholarly and nowhere near as wealthy. But in the last several years, Penn has gone out of its way to convalesce the surrounding neighborhood in the hope of improving lives in the community that surrounds us.
Yet despite our efforts, the very people we've been trying to help still largely resent us and our presence in this area. That sounds vaguely reminiscent of the United States and its status in geopolitics today. Perhaps Penn is more of a microcosm of America than we take it for.
Just think about what Penn has done here in the last few years alone. We've removed the fear of wandering west of 40th Street by resuscitating the shops and eateries for popular consumption by all. Forty-five percent of students live in off-campus housing, bringing in huge amounts to West Philly landlords. And, maybe most importantly, Penn has poured millions into creating new schools and funding existing ones to better the city's failing educational system. Former University President Rodin even worked with the Philadelphia school district and the Philadelphia Federation of Teachers to open an innovative K-8 public school right here in University City.
But there is, inevitably, a dark side to Camelot. Those 40th Street hangouts are just fine when parents keep bank accounts buoyant. They can get rather expensive, however, for our lower-income neighbors. Freshgrocer is great, but it also just put Thriftway out of business, eliminating a cheaper alternative for groceries. It's not all smiles everywhere, although that normally isn't the case in any area.
Overall, Penn has created a more marketable neighborhood, revitalized the local economy and created thousands of jobs on and near the campus. Our presence has done far more good than harm, and we've helped far more people than we've hurt.
One would think, then, that the rest of West Philadelphia would see Penn in a positive light. Unfortunately, that isn't the case. Rather than embrace our endeavors, much of the community remains suspicious, resistant and embittered. We still are a bastion of cocky kids with deep pockets and political connections, after all.
On a much larger scale, America is experiencing the same tension with our international counterparts as Penn is with West Philly. The United States channels its money and power in the hope of bettering life not only inside our borders but across oceans, too. We do it out of beneficence and not condescension, though it isn't always construed that way. All in all, America is responsible for tremendous gain worldwide. So why do so many people hate us?
British historian Arnold Toynbee might have summed it up best when he said, "America is a large, friendly dog in a very small room. Every time it wags its tail, it knocks over a chair." America has its collective heart in the right place, but not everyone is obligated to like it. Likewise, Penn acts in the best interest of West Philadelphia, but in the eyes of our neighbors we sometimes exceed our limits.
Barry Rubin of the Philadelphia-based Foreign Policy Research Institute states that while the notion of anti-Americanism has evolved over time, it fundamentally hinges on two chief ideas: "the vision of the United States as a bad society, which threatens to become the model for the whole world, and that of America as seeking global conquest." Yet this country hasn't reverted to the glory days of manifest destiny. Leaders know our territory and don't embark on imperial missions in pursuit of new acquisitions.
Too often, false impressions easily overshadow the good intentions we are poised to fulfill. The assumption in much of the Middle East, for example, is that President Bush invaded Iraq to seize control of the oil fields, kill as many Muslims as possible, convert the remaining to Christianity and exact revenge on Saddam for his father's assassination attempt ten years prior. There was, of course, no mention of removing the dictator who killed millions of his own people and kept known terrorists on federal payroll. We're the evil ones.
The Iraqi people are largely grateful for our continued work to rehabilitate their country, as well they should be -- over 1,000 American soldiers gave their lives to democratize a country they'd never before seen. But there are still more than enough people there who resent anything American and have gone to great lengths to undermine everything we've done for them. Even with the great potential to benefit, they want no part of the land of excess and avarice.
Penn isn't exactly rebuilding a nation, but its status in Philadelphia is stunningly similar to America's in the rest of the world. It's possible that West Philadelphia and the University will always clash in much the same way the United States has for decades with foreign countries; the French might never bring their noses back down to our level, even if we bail them out of another world war. Ultimately, America, and Penn, will do what they know to be best -- with or without clamor from the outside.
Michelle Dubert is a College sophomore from Closter, N.J. Department of Strategery appears on Thursdays.
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