Squabbles around how to classify Pittsburgh’s 90 nebulous neighborhoods have lately stirred up our otherwise peaceable newsroom. I speak as a dispassionate seeker of truth (not a resident of Brighton Heights obviously) in suggesting that, when listing the locale of various events and happenings we write up, the North Side’s 18 neighborhoods should be named according to their…name. But some of my East End-dwelling colleagues, following the paper’s longtime precedent and the predilections of Pittsburgh residents, aren’t convinced. As it stands, “North Side” is apparently an equally appropriate designation for Manchester, Marshall-Shadeland, Observatory Hill, or any other spot north of the Allegheny because, so I keep hearing, “no one really knows where they are anyway.”
But my coworkers – stingy in their estimations of the city's northern heterogeneity – are nevertheless generous in spirit. Well aware of the blinders East Enders sometimes wear, they suggested (actually demanded) I lampoon their haughty East End ways in a testy polemic, and they served me up some inspiration (including this headline). Well, challenge accepted.
Since moving within city limits around 2016, I’ve hewn to the more obscure parts of town. During my six years in Sheraden, I learned to anticipate the puzzled looks that followed whenever I disclosed my residence. Gesturing to the smaller but better known West End Village sometimes brought a shade of understanding, and failing that, I would note that it borders McKees Rocks on the Pittsburgh side. But usually I’d have to accept the futility of orienting an East Ender to the entire swathe of town west of the Point.
Now that I’m in Brighton Heights, I find that most Pittsburghers have at least heard of my neighborhood, although locating it still proves a challenge for many. And unlike for Sheraden, the simple response “it’s in the North Side” brings the conversation to a close and clarity to the questioner.
By contrast, anyone answering “In the East End” to a fellow Pittsburgher’s inquiry of “Where do you live?” would, my colleagues tell me, induce blank stares. Instead, you have to be specific. You can answer simply with any neighborhood name – Friendship, Hazelwood, Polish Hill – and there are usually no follow-up questions. (At least one exception, though, is Stanton Heights, says my editor. She’s a resident, and says she constantly has to explain to people – even East End lifers – where that is.)