One of my passengers, speaking of Pittsburgh, said that “it grows on you like a fungus” and I can see where he was right. The way things are both screwed up and screwy here is endearing even as it provides endless fodder for dark humor. And juxtaposed with that, despite centuries of disregard, neglect, and, I think more recently, decay, is a remarkable beauty, in turns magnificent, as with grand churches and gorgeous old homes, and spectacular, as with the change of the seasons, the taken-for-granted woods that are everywhere, and even the still polluted (they don’t look that way) rivers.

Rideshare driving is a marginal proposition—anyone who thinks they are doing well at it either has very low standards or is failing properly to account for their costs—so there is much in Pittsburgh I have not had a chance to explore properly. For examples, the incredible history of this place, a microbrew beer scene that is somewhat more developed than what I thought was pretty good in California, museums, and universities (six of them, all with a few miles of each other, plus many more in the surrounding area).

The consequence is that I see much that is ugly with few of the compensations.

I lived in Pittsburgh for a couple years as a kid, specifically in Mount Lebanon, within walking distance of a few relatives, including my grandparents in Dormont.

I returned to Pittsburgh on April 24, 2019,[1] finding a small apartment in Baldwin Borough, which I began moving into on April 30. I have been trying ever since to figure out what happened in the fifty intervening years.

Part of the answer, of course, is that I’m seeing a lot more of Pittsburgh as an Uber and Lyft driver than I ever did as a kid. And I am, it must be said, horrified.

This page will cover what I consider important as I figure all this out. It is a work in progress, as are many of the photograph albums shared as evidence.

Racism and white supremacy

It didn’t take long for me to figure out that something was horribly amiss in race relations in Pittsburgh. As a critical theorist, I couldn’t help but notice the condition of neighborhoods where Blacks are most noticeable in contrast to the corresponding condition of neighborhoods where whites are most noticeable. Then I noticed that guns are prominently displayed gratuitously in or near places where Blacks live. And I noticed that the banners that go up in time for Memorial Day, which I initially thought honored war dead, but at least honor people who served in the military, nearly all honor whites, even in places where Blacks are most visible.

Please note that I take photographs as the opportunity arises, which is generally not when I am on my way to pick up a passenger or when I have a passenger in the car. This is a severe handicap, but rideshare driving is a terribly marginal proposition, so I have to focus first on that. As a consequence, the photographs available here are pretty much all taken in a hurry, meant to document rather than for artistic merit.

I intend to preserve metadata with photographs taken and it is my expectation that you should be able to view the location, date, and time along with other recorded details by clicking on the “info” button (a circled “i”) at upper right alongside each photograph in the galleries.

Gratuitous guns

I think I fundamentally believe anyway that if you are not at war, you should not be displaying your weapons. So either, when you display weapons, you are in fact still at war, or you are doing so gratuitously. Either interpretation is problematic, given that these weapons are so often located where poor people, especially Blacks, live; and almost never where rich people live.

On a basic level, I oppose war. I find the display of weaponry offensive.

Fig. 1. Gratuitous guns, mapped by author on Google Maps. Pins are locations from which photographs in the gallery were taken, not of the weaponry itself, and are therefore slightly off.

Fig. 2. This is aimed directly at the northwest corner of Carrick High School. Photograph by author, December 31, 2019.

Fig. 3. Outside a gun store on Lebanon Church Road in West Mifflin, directly across from the Allegheny County Airport. You cannot tell me this is for hunting. Photography by author, September 26, 2019.

In general, the ubiquitous display of guns at sites around Pittsburgh, always purportedly meant to honor those who have served in the military, raise three questions:

  1. Why, when so many memorials seem just fine without guns, are guns needed to honor people who have served in the military?
  2. Why are these guns so often, in fact in the vast majority of cases, located in or near areas (figure 1) where Blacks constitute a high proportion of the population?
  3. Why do the banners put up in time for Memorial Day overwhelmingly honor only whites who have served in the military, even in areas with high proportions of Blacks in the population?

This stinks to high heaven.

I began taking photographs of these displays and using the geotagging information to create a map (figure 1). The album and the map are publicly available.

Ethnic remnants

Fig. 4. A Russian Orthodox church in McKeesport. Photograph by author, May 13, 2020.

In Pittsburgh, I notice that European ancestry is celebrated to a far greater degree than I ever saw in California, and to the near or total exclusion of other identities. I also notice that many artifacts of ethnicity (for example, figure 4) are located in communities which do not appear to have corresponding populations. I’ve begun taking photographs of the evidence—strikingly to me, at least, you won’t find Black or American Indian identities celebrated in the same way. Again, this album is publicly available.

The abandoned

Fig. 5. A closed library branch in Hazelwood. Photograph by author, May 1, 2020.

Post-industrial decline is especially visible in Pittsburgh by what’s simply been abandoned and left to decay. I’ve begun taking photographs of this too, and the album is publicly available. Typically, but not exclusively, these are in poor neighborhoods, visibly correlating to a high proportion of Black residents.

White supremacism

Fig. 5. Five flags are on display in this small front yard in Clairton. Two U.S. Army flags are visible, along with a Confederate and U.S. flag. Obscured behind the telephone pole is a Betsy Ross flag.

A lot of folks in Pittsburgh proudly display Confederate flags. These are harder to photograph because the wind needs to be blowing strong enough that the flags are reasonably visible. I will also include here locations that folks—I will protect their identities—have told me are associated with white supremacism. This album is publicly available.

Theoretical work

There is, of course, theoretical work needed to tie all this together:


I don’t drive for Uber and Lyft because I want to. I do so because I have no choice.[2] But doing so has been a (thankfully not literally, so far, at least) crash course in Pittsburgh navigation and it has given me an opportunity to put the rest of this together. That said, driving here is a real challenge and I’d really rather be doing something else.[3]

External Resources

Jason Togyer’s writings, focusing on McKeesport, for the Columbia Journalism Review’s Year of Fear series, offer remarkable insight into a lot of what’s happened with a lot of Pittsburgh.

Togyer’s insights, however, mainly apply to post-industrial Pittsburgh. Problems precede industrial decline, as shown in a map of redlining hosted by the University of Richmond.

  1. [1]David Benfell, “Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania,” Irregular Bullshit, April 24, 2019, https://disunitedstates.com/2019/04/24/pittsburgh-pennsylvania/
  2. [2]David Benfell, “About my job hunt,” Not Housebroken, n.d., https://disunitedstates.org/about-my-job-hunt/
  3. [3]David Benfell, “About my job hunt,” Not Housebroken, n.d., https://disunitedstates.org/about-my-job-hunt/