Temple Gallery

This was a great day. We introduced the kids tothe song by Louis Armstrong “ What a WonderfulWorld”. While singing the song, the kids chosecertains objects or words in the song that makesour world so wonderful and expressed it bypainting it on a canvas. After that they were alsotrying to figure out a choreography they could dofor the song.

The photo shows a long hallway at Tioga Presbyterian Apartments lined with closed apartment doors. At first glance, the hallway may appear quiet and ordinary. However, as resident assessments were completed, I realized how much there is to learn about the people who live behind each door. 

One woman shared that she never had the opportunity to attend college, but she has incredible creative talent. She made eight prom dresses for her granddaughters and even designed and sewed her daughter’s wedding dress. Today, she enjoys decorating the tables in the common area because it brings her peace and gives her something meaningful to look forward to. Another resident shared that she was preparing for surgery but first needed to lower her A1c. She came to us asking for healthier alternatives to soda because she wanted to improve her health and become eligible for the procedure. Moments like these reminded me that every resident has personal goals, talents, experiences, and motivations. Rather than focusing only on the challenges residents face, I began to recognize the strengths and determination they continue to carry with them. 

What the photo does not show are the stories, relationships, health concerns, and accomplishments that exist behind the closed doors. It also does not show the structural barriers that may limit residents’ choices, including fixed incomes, limited transportation, social isolation, difficulty accessing affordable and nutritious food, and challenges navigating medical care. These barriers are not caused by a lack of motivation. Many residents are actively trying to protect their health, maintain their independence, and remain involved in their community, but they may not always have the resources or support needed to do so. 

This photo reminds me that every apartment door represents a person with a lifetime of experiences, skills, and resilience. One way to address the challenges older adults face is to create more opportunities for them to share their experiences and continue using their talents. Craft groups, intergenerational mentoring, resident-led activities, community decorating projects, nutrition education, and accessible wellness programs could help residents remain engaged and maintain a sense of purpose. 

I hope this photo encourages healthcare providers, housing leaders, and policymakers to look beyond the hallway and consider the individual needs and strengths behind each door. Greater funding for transportation, social programs, nutrition resources, accessible community spaces, and preventive healthcare could help older adults remain independent and connected. Decision-makers should also include residents in the planning process rather than assuming what they need. My time at Tioga has shown me that supporting older adults is not only about meeting their physical needs. It is also about listening to their stories, recognizing their abilities, and creating environments where they can continue contributing to their community.

The photos show a residential block in North Philadelphia and, from the interior look out of one of the community sites we visited through the Lenfest Center. At first glance, the residential block may appear run-down or under-resourced, but the photos alone do not tell the full story. They do not show the resilience of the people who live there, the relationships within the community, or the daily efforts residents make to support one another. They also cannot capture the hopes, challenges, or experiences of the individuals who call this neighborhood home. 

Looking at these images, it is easy to make assumptions about who lives there, what kind of work they do, or what opportunities they have access to. Questions such as where the nearest grocery store, playground, or healthcare facility is reveal how the physical environment reflects broader inequalities. These photos also do not show the structural issues that have shaped these neighborhoods over time, including disinvestment, limited access to affordable housing, unemployment, underfunded schools, and barriers to quality healthcare. Understanding these conditions requires listening to the people who live there rather than relying on appearances alone. 

Throughout my time at the Lenfest Center, we spent countless hours serving and learning from different neighborhoods across North Philadelphia. From Broad and Olney to 25th and Norris, we spoke with community members about the lack of resources in their neighborhoods and the challenges they face every day. Many residents expressed a desire to move but felt trapped by low incomes, unemployment, and rising housing costs. At the same time, others described these neighborhoods as places of comfort, familiarity, and community. These conversations reminded me that it is impossible to understand a neighborhood without first hearing directly from the people who live there. Doing so replaces judgment with empathy and provides a more accurate understanding of the community's strengths and needs. 

Our work at the Lenfest Center included providing résumé and career-building support, visiting PHA homes to discuss healthy living, and encouraging young people to dream big about their futures. While these activities may have seemed separate, they all pointed to the same underlying structural issues: unequal access to quality healthcare, affordable housing, stable employment, and equitable education. These challenges surfaced repeatedly in our conversations with residents and demonstrated how interconnected these issues are. 

I hope these photos can be used to educate decision-makers, encouraging them to look beyond a neighborhood's physical appearance and recognize the systemic barriers that shape residents' lives. Rather than reinforcing stereotypes, the images should serve as a starting point for conversations about investing in communities, expanding access to essential resources, and creating policies that address the root causes of inequality. Most importantly, I hope they remind leaders that meaningful change begins by listening to the voices of the people most directly affected.

The central photo shows the initial setup of the talent show for our residents. It took place in the gym, to accommodate the number of people. One of the initial things that came to mind was figuring out how to manage the heat: being in an older part of the building without an updated HVAC system; two doors -- one door that opens to the outside air helping with circulation but not the heat, another internal one connecting to the shelter; one standalone fan. A hunt began for the fabled, second industrial fan. In the meantime, we gathered the fairy lights, multiple extension cords and backdrop. We used chairs and trialed with push pins and duct tape to keep both backdrop and fairy lights up. A ladder and more helping hands would’ve provided much more initial ease, but we did it as a team of three (the ladder came through towards the end of our setup, which helped to make some adjustments). We were happy about our success and went on with our the day. The following day of the show everything fell down! Maybe the heat broke down the adhesive, who knows. But a larger group of people were able to come together and figure out how to fix it. With more lights, nails securing the backdrop into the wall, extension cords and the second fan, it was slightly cooler and made a big difference. At showtime, residents filed in wearing their outfits and costumes for the show, unaware of what occured before. It was amazing seeing each of the families participating and supporting each other from the audience. Residents and staff enjoyed themselves, excited for the opportunity to host another. The show was still a success.  

The bordering photos show some of the places and resources in the shelter available to residents, along with the outcomes of great programming and coordination. The photos don’t show just how flexible and creative that the staff and residents are. I greatly admire them for it, but it’s something they do because they have to, not because they want to. When it comes to helping marginalized communities or doing community based work, the expectation is that people should learn to create more with less. Especially with homeles services. And I think that because our society sees people and organizations that are able to do that, it can reify the idea that they need less support from government and private funders. It’s like, well you’re used to having less, so why should extra funding and resources be provided. This is not me downplaying the already generous support that an organization like LSH and Jane Addams receives. And this is not meant to be patronizing of our residents either. I’m also saying that they deserve more. More support and funding for homeless services, affordable housing and living wages can provide great opportunities for growth and success; and less of having to manage and make do for residents and staff.

This photo shows a residential street in one of the Philadelphia communities I encountered during my internship at Lenfest Center. I was able to attend multiple community outreach events in different neighborhoods or housing centers in Philadelphia. At first glance, it simply captures a row of houses where people live, raise families, and go about their daily lives. It looks like an ordinary neighborhood, but the photo represents much more than what is visible. It reminds me that every home belongs to someone with their own experiences, challenges, and hopes for the future. 

What this photo does not show are the struggles that many residents face every day. It does not show the families who may be living below the poverty line, the individuals recovering from substance use disorders, or those who cannot afford health insurance. It also does not show the barriers people face in finding stable employment, accessing healthy food, or receiving mental health services. These challenges are often hidden, yet they have a significant impact on the health and well-being of the community. 

During my internship, I spent time researching data on neighborhoods such as Upper Kensington, Frankford, and Juniata Park to support a funding proposal. Looking at crime rates, overdose statistics, and poverty data helped me understand that these issues are connected. Communities with fewer resources often face multiple challenges at the same time, making it more difficult for residents to achieve good health and financial stability. 

I hope this photo encourages decision makers to look beyond appearances. A street of homes may not immediately suggest that a community is struggling, but data and conversations with residents reveal a much more complete picture. Investments in affordable housing, accessible healthcare, education, and workforce development can help address many of the underlying issues these neighborhoods face. My experience at Lenfest taught me that meaningful change begins with understanding both the visible and invisible challenges within a community. 

To me, this photo represents more than a neighborhood; it represents resilience and potential. Communities should not be defined solely by statistics or stereotypes, but by the people who live there and the opportunities they deserve. I hope this image serves as a reminder that every neighborhood has strengths worth building on when given the right support and opportunities. 

This photo depicts a table filled with colorful flowers, handmade dolls, and craft supplies from an activity at Lutheran Settlement House. At first glance, it may appear to be a simple arts and crafts event where older adults gather to pass the time and create something fun. However, this image represents much more than that. My partner and I helped organize this activity, and seeing the participants smile, laugh, and proudly display their finished crafts made the experience incredibly meaningful. The room was filled with conversation, encouragement, and genuine happiness as everyone worked together, shared stories, and admired one another's creations. It was a powerful reminder that even small activities can create moments of connection and joy that leave a lasting impact. 

While the photo captures a positive and uplifting moment, it cannot show the challenges many of these older adults experience outside of the event. It does not reveal the loneliness some seniors face after returning home, the chronic health conditions they manage every day, or the financial and transportation barriers that make it difficult to participate in community activities. Many older adults live alone or have limited social support, making programs like this an essential source of companionship and belonging. These gatherings provide more than entertainment. They create opportunities to build friendships, reduce social isolation, and improve mental and emotional well being. 

On a broader level, this photo reflects the importance of addressing structural barriers that affect healthy aging. Limited funding for senior programs, inadequate transportation options, and unequal access to affordable community resources can prevent older adults from participating in activities that improve their quality of life. Organizations like Lutheran Settlement House play a critical role in filling these gaps by creating welcoming spaces where seniors can stay socially engaged and connected with others. 

Ultimately, this photo serves as a reminder that promoting health extends far beyond medical treatment. Investing in community programs that encourage creativity, social interaction, and emotional support is just as important as providing clinical care. As a future pharmacist, this experience reinforced that caring for patients means recognizing the impact of social determinants of health alongside their medical needs. Sometimes, something as simple as a craft activity can provide comfort, connection, and healing in ways that medicine alone cannot.

At first glance, this photo appears to capture a simple arts and crafts activity. Blank canvases are spread across the room as a group of young girls prepares to paint, making it look like just another summer camp project. In reality, this moment represented much more than painting. It was the very first week of the Brave. Brilliant. Becoming. Summer Girls Empowerment Academy at The SPOT Period Hub, part of No More Secrets Mind Body Spirit Inc. Before any lessons on menstrual health, self-esteem, or friendship began, we wanted the girls to know that this space belonged to them. The blank canvases symbolized more than a creative activity; they were the first step in transforming the room into one that reflected the girls themselves. By inviting them to leave their mark on the space, we were also inviting them to help shape the community we hoped to build over the next eight weeks.  

What the photo does not show is the intentional work that transformed this room into a safe space. It does not show the conversations that took place over the past weeks, the trust that had to be built, or the vulnerability it took for many of the girls to share their experiences and insecurities. It does not show the questions they asked, the friendships they formed, or the confidence they slowly began to develop. It also cannot capture the reality that these girls may come from communities where conversations about menstruation, self-esteem, and reproductive health are limited by stigma, lack of resources, or inadequate education. 

The structural issues behind this photo extend far beyond one classroom. Menstrual health education remains inconsistent across schools and communities, leaving many people of all ages without accurate information about their own bodies. Economic barriers make period products inaccessible for some families, while cultural stigma can make women feel embarrassed or ashamed to ask questions. These inequities disproportionately affect underserved communities, where access to health education and supportive community spaces is often limited. 

I hope this photo reminds decision-makers that health equity is built not only in clinics and hospitals, but also in community spaces where people feel safe, respected, and empowered to ask questions. Organizations like No More Secrets invest in far more than menstrual products; they invest in education, confidence, belonging, and lasting change. As an intern, I experienced that impact firsthand. The mentorship I received transformed the way I value myself and approach challenges with confidence and purpose. While this photo captures a colorful room, its greatest significance lies in what cannot be seen: women and girls discovering that their voices matter and that they deserve spaces designed with them, not just for them. An immeasurable win. 

For my photo, I chose a picture of a table on one of the residential floors decorated by the residents with small figurines and paper cranes. Although it may seem like a simple decoration, I felt that it represented the residents’ desire to create a welcoming environment and find ways to connect with one another. 

Throughout my time at Tioga Presbyterian Apartments, I noticed that many residents have built friendships within the community. Some residents visit each other’s apartments, attend activities together, and spend time talking with their neighbors. However, I also noticed that some residents are more secluded and rarely come outside of their units. Many older adults may not have family members, children, or grandchildren who are able to visit regularly, which can increase the risk of loneliness and social isolation. They don’t usually hang out in the porch where most of the residents socialize or come to the community event. Only time they come down is to receive food boxes or vouchers. So, whenever I come into their living space to deliver a message from Ms. Jackie, they seem very delighted and talk for hours with me.  

This table stood out to me because it showed that connection does not always happen through large events or organized activities. Sometimes it happens through small gestures, such as decorating a shared space for others to enjoy. The figurines and cute ceramics represented a quiet form of communication between residents, creating a sense of belonging even in everyday spaces. 

Next week, I hope to expand on the story behind this image by discussing how meaningful connections with older adults are often built through small and consistent interactions. During my first few weeks at Tioga Presbyterian Apartments, many residents were polite but not always comfortable opening up right away. However, after repeatedly seeing them while delivering flyers, sharing messages, helping with daily tasks, and having small conversations, I noticed that many residents slowly became more comfortable and willing to share their stories with me. 

This experience showed me that reducing social isolation does not always require large community events. For some older adults, especially those who spend more time alone, low pressure interactions can be the first step toward building trust and connection. This photo represents how even small gestures can create a welcoming environment where residents feel recognized, valued, and eventually more open to connecting with others. 

In this photograph is one of the teachers and a student from the 4th and 5th classroom from To Our Children’s Future With Health summer program. The student in the photograph is often disobedient, rebellious, picks on other students and has a hard time making friends. Though the child often speaks negatively on other staff she seems to like the teacher in the photograph; When she is having a hard time following directions she gets sent to him and he helps her through whichever assignment she was given. Though his intervention is at times limited- providing no more directions than her teacher, when she’s with him, she understands her tasks and finishes them calmly and rather efficiently.  

The picture shows them accidently matching in the exact same color combinations although one might assume it to be planned, it wasn’t.  What the picture doesn’t show is in this accidental matching, there’s a deeper fruition of their connection and his ability to calm her down and keep her on track.  He listens to her. More importantly, he makes her feel valued and a member of the program community by asking her to help him with various tasks. Children can feel inferior and helpless in a school environment as they learn to follow directions and listen to those in authority. Those feelings translate to defiance. When they’re given the space to express their feelings without interruption and made feel important by working alongside the staff it makes them feel equal and mature, not merely just kids. I hope that more children are in spaces especially educational institutions where they feel valued and are not only lectured at but rather listened to. This creates children who are more responsible and less likely to act out.  

Also, classrooms are not a one-fit-all model. More teachers should be given the freedom to design a classroom structure and lessons that fits in the material while incorporating the needs and personalities of their students. Only in such a setting can each student truly prosper and be the best version of themselves.

Written Narrative