There is something special about watching a movie filmed in your hometown — or even better, in your own neighborhood.
Many Philadelphians have probably seen Rocky, Creed, 12 Monkeys, Trading Places, and, of course, Philadelphia … but chances are you haven’t seen Fighting Back, the 1982 movie filmed almost entirely in Kensington.
The film was part of the era’s subgenre of movies — think Dirty Harry, Death Wish, Walking Tall, and Taxi Driver — that depicted urban decay and featured vigilantes as the protagonists: stoic, steely-eyed figures (who are almost always white men) who see themselves as a last resort when city government has become too weak or too complicit to address societal ills.
The protagonist in the film, a grocer played by Tom Skerrit, weathers crisis after crisis — including the murder of his best friend and the discovery that his teenage son is using heroin — until he decides to organize neighbors into a civic association.
With no real understanding of the causes of urban decay or causes of white flight, and confronting a corrupt and ineffective city government, members of the association turn to vigilantism (and racist actions) which eventually leads to conflict with a Black community leader, played by Yaphet Kotto, who has a firm grasp on the systemic issues facing their community.
Do the questions of what happens to a community when it is disinvested and when white flight occurs sound familiar? What do residents do when they rightfully are frustrated by not only the untenable conditions they live in but by not being able to rely on city government or other forces to support them? What are the options when you do organize your neighbors and your efforts but your voices are still ignored by the powers that be?
The movie asserts three possible community responses to the challenges of such a neighborhood: join the chaos, organize and work within the system, or turn vigilante.
But unlike movies, in real life, there is a fourth path forward, one centered on self-determination through community-driven, trauma-informed development and a comprehensive approach to problem-solving.
There is an even deeper connection to the movie for me. When I purchased my house 23 years ago, the previous owners told me the movie (which I had never heard of) had been filmed in the house. My home is, in fact, the home you see on the cover of the DVD and promotional posters; my home is where the party scene that opens the movie was filmed.
The park that serves as the symbol of chaos and the point of greatest conflict in the movie is McPherson Square, the park my front door opens out to. In real life, the park received much more national and international attention than the movie ever did.
And finally, after many years of being vacant, the family grocery store and site of community meetings in the movie — located across from the southeast corner of McPherson Park at 3000 Kensington Ave. — was purchased by the nonprofit organization I lead, New Kensington Community Development Corp., and renovated. It will be reopening on Wednesday as the Kensington Engagement Center.
The building will serve as a space for community engagement — allowing residents to share ideas and strategies for the co-creation of Kensington as we move forward.
It will also serve as an exhibit space, with the first exhibit focusing on the history of Kensington Avenue, the current experience of business owners on the avenue, and a number of interactive tools for residents to think about the past, the present, and to apply those thoughts to what they want the avenue to be in the future.
On Wednesday we will be hosting a ribbon cutting and launching a program to help small businesses and unveil a new multimillion-dollar collaborative partnership to address housing stability and mental health in Kensington.
As I thought about the rebirth happening at 3000 Kensington, I started thinking about what a sequel to Fighting Back might look like 40-some years later.
As I picture it, the Skerrit character now bears the weight of having been through cycles of failed strategies that were designed on flawed theories of change, one of the most flawed being vigilantism — which was never a solution, just a trauma response.
He now realizes that to truly address valid concerns, they needed to also grapple with the underlying issues, such as poverty, education, and racism, in order to eliminate the downstream crime he and the civic association turned vigilante group had focused on instead.
Perhaps the grocer learns of a new generation of neighborhood organizers, who convene community-wide conversations that are not dominated by very few people and focused on rehashing old grievances and old strategies but are built around incorporating many voices. These dialogues also focus on strengths, and complex comprehensive approaches to address the issues underlying the very real challenges they face.
Residents begin to see real change.
The conversations spur changes in the neighborhood that begin by laying a new foundation based on acknowledging the trauma the community has experienced, then focusing on community-led and comprehensive processes and strategies.
Residents begin to see real change. Investment flows into the community from the city, state, philanthropic, and private sectors, as people see a path and something to invest in. Politicians stop acting as if they are the only decision-makers and instead partner with many others in service to the community. Even the police are relieved — as they are no longer put in a position of solving problems beyond their ability to solve — and find they are in the right spot to serve.
Together, with everyone in the right spots, people are finally able to address the core issues of poverty, employment, housing, education, health, and more. Businesses that have been shuttered return, new businesses that meet the needs of longtime residents arrive, and residents have a way to stay in their homes and benefit from the positive changes taking place in the community.
Things are not perfect, but they begin to get better.
The new movie draws to a close with scenes of people throughout the city in their community meetings discussing how to replicate Kensington’s success and resilience rather than how to avoid becoming Kensington. The old leaders, like the grocer and the activist, are in those meetings, along with the children and grandchildren who have grown into their roles as new leaders, ready to take the next steps in their journey together.
Bill McKinney is a Kensington resident and the executive director of New Kensington Community Development Corp.
This post was originally published on here
