New BSR editor-in-chief Alaina Johns’s hello

As I prepared to take over the role of editor-in-chief at Broad Street Review, I thought about the best ways to seem hip, sophisticated, and only a little intimidating. My bookshelves are large and eclectic and I humblebrag about not owning a TV. Let’s imagine pulling out our favorite books (Ta-Nehisi Coates? Sandra Cisneros? Charlotte Brontë? Roxane Gay?) and discussing them over a crisp Riesling.

But the truth is that while I was getting ready to start this gig, I was also trudging around town being miserable about a breakup with my partner of almost two years.

The timing was awful. Just when I had this great opportunity at BSR and most wanted to project sophisticated cool, I was dislocated, crumbly, and raw. I had to shut off my computer and get outside.

At the mercy of the city

I left my house in South Philly on a sunny November Sunday. I took the Broad Street Line and got off at City Hall. But in my lonely, withered emotional state, I failed to realize a giant parade was marching down JFK Boulevard — the kind you can’t just duck apologetically through to get to the other side. I enjoyed a fine brass band or two before descending again to catch the next trolley to 22nd Street, clear of the parade.

Back above ground, I headed north to the Parkway, and thought it might be nice to try being sad behind the Philadelphia Museum of Art. I passed the Rodin Museum and crossed Eakins Oval. I considered ironically taking a picture of the people in line to take pictures of the Rocky Statue but I was feeling generous and decided against it.

I watched sticks slipping over the long, glassy shoulder of the Fairmount Dam and walked along the Waterworks. I headed back toward the rear steps of the museum and sat for a long time under a larger-than-life statue of some dashing military officer whose name I can’t remember.

I was so deep in my own squishy brains I missed the 38 bus back to Center City and had to grab the 48 just above the Parkway. And then, without warning, instead of heading to Market Street, the bus driver detoured onto Vine. All of us on the bus kept waiting for him to turn south, but he didn’t.

We crossed Broad, then 13th, and as our confused muttering swelled at 12th Street, he called out, “11th Street, last stop!” and left us all in Chinatown without another word.

I helped an elderly man get his bearings and then hurried south to the 11th Street station on the Market-Frankford Line, which took me back to the Broad Street Line at City Hall, which I rode home. The sun was setting. I could almost hear what I call the Sad Walking-Around Music you get about three-quarters of the way through any romantic comedy, when the heartbroken protagonist walks around, you know, sadly.

Braving breakups

And I had so much to be sad about. Wendy Rosenfield came on as editor-in-chief of BSR in June 2016, so we worked together for two and a half years. When she asked me, over bowls of vermicelli at this great Vietnamese place on Baltimore Avenue, whether I would agree to succeed her as editor-in-chief, I thought, “Wait. No. How can I, as BSR’s associate editor, step up to mitigate this notion of such a sharp, classy, literate, good-hearted editor’s departure?”

How many breakups can one person handle at a time?

At the ripe old age of 35, I like to look at the river sometimes (Delaware or Schuylkill, it depends on my mood and which bus is coming) and think about the fact that life is pretty much a parade of breakups: partners, friends, jobs, pets, therapists (if you’re lucky). Even that novel you’re loving will thin out into its last few pages, until the final sentence slides by, and nothing that happens in that book will ever be a mystery to you again.

Onward

I care about BSR, and from watching the site and our social media and all the emails (my god, the emails) over the past few weeks about our transition, I know you care, too. And it would be selfish to think I’m only one who was surprised and a little forlorn to see Wendy leave the helm of BSR.

The best cure for breakups of every kind, I find, is work. You and I have plenty of time to get to know each other. In BSR’s new era, I’m thrilled to partner with our new executive director, Neil Bardhan, alongside the ongoing mentorship of people like Wendy and our founder, Dan Rottenberg.

It’s all going to be okay, because — as I remembered on my jaunt past our parks, our historic waterworks, our world-famous sculptures, and unapologetic street-clogging events — Philly, even with all its unannounced detours, is here for all of us. And no matter what happens, we’ll keep exploring it together.