The Other Germantown: A 10+ Year Creative Journey
Insights into a community, its people, and how it influenced my artistic practice.
It’s hard to believe that more than a decade has passed since I first started documenting the historic northwest Philadelphia neighborhood of Germantown. What began as a desire to connect with this community and its people turned into a creative journey that shaped my artistic practice in ways I never imagined.
Recently, Germantown Info Hub mentioned The Other Germantown in its Live in Color 2025 piece that recognized the contributions of creatives connected to Germantown, and it made me realize that many people might not know the full story. So here it is.
The Spark
In 2011, I moved to Germantown, a neighborhood rich with history but pulsing with the complexities of a community in transition. I wanted to understand it, to feel a part of it, so I did what I knew best: I observed and documented. With my camera in hand, I wandered the streets, struck by the juxtaposition of historic homes and everyday struggles, of old-timers holding tight to memories and newcomers eager to reshape the landscape. Germantown became both muse and mystery to me.
The Solo Show
My early explorations culminated in a 2013 solo photography exhibit at iMPeRFeCT Gallery. That show, The Other Germantown, wasn't just a collection of images; it was a conversation starter. The photos captured the heartbeat of Germantown's people—their pride, their resilience, their frustrations.
It was in Germantown where I met Howard, an older Black man whose presence on Maplewood Mall became a central thread in my work and my reflections on Germantown. Howard, with his long legs, raspy voice, and complicated relationship with the neighborhood, reminded me that the essence of a place lies in its people, not only its landmarks.
The Portrait Project
The show was a success in its ability to give everyday Germantowners a voice. But it sparked something bigger: a portrait project that became part of a broader community dialogue about Germantown's future. I didn’t want to photograph static history; I wanted to document living, breathing narratives. I listened to stories of pride and pain, of rootedness and displacement. The people I met during those sessions deepened my understanding of Germantown as more than just a neighborhood undergoing gentrification; it was a microcosm of American life, where race, class, and memory intersected in ways that were impossible to ignore.
The Blog
As the portrait project evolved, so did my need to process what I was seeing and feeling. On September 1, 2013, I launched a blog by the name of The Other Germantown to archive the images from the exhibit. It evolved into a digital space where I documented the stories that didn’t fit neatly into an image caption. It became a space for reflection, frustration, and, occasionally, hope.
I wrote about Howard (who passed away three years later, in 2016) and others like him—people whose lives didn’t make it into the brochures but who were essential to Germantown's soul. The blog wasn't just about Germantown; it was about how and why we tell stories, about who gets centered and who gets pushed to the margins. Importantly, the blog's reflections on displacement and gentrification became part of ongoing activist conversations in the neighborhood, contributing to the groundwork for Germantown's current renaissance.
The Legacy
That chapter of my life eventually came to a close, but The Other Germantown laid the foundation for everything that followed. The practice of centering everyday people, of pushing past the obvious to see what others overlook, carried through to Compositions of Black Joy and now into Diary of a Restless Lightchaser, my work in progress. This work was part of broader activist efforts that laid the groundwork for the renaissance Germantown is experiencing today. What Germantown taught me—through Howard, through the lens, through the blog—was that observation isn't passive. It's an act of care, of resistance, and of love.
So, here I am, more than a decade later, still chasing light, still seeking stories, still urging myself—and others—to wake up and take notice. Because places like Germantown aren't just historic districts on a map. They're living, breathing communities with stories that deserve to be seen, heard, and honored.
Pure love for the opportunity to observe your journey. It's reflected in the evolution of COBJ, your book, which documents the Philadelphia Juneteenth Festival (PJF). PJF is presented annually to document all peoples affected by the social macrocosm that exists in Germantown, good and bad, and small - large cities across the country. Never Forget! Always Remember!
Love all of this!!! And will always be grateful that Germantown - and art — brought us together.