We live in a city that is loved, hated, and feared. Unfortunately, we also live in a city that’s suffering from a bit of a brain drain.

This post is a reaction to TechnicallyPhilly.com’s Exit Interview series. If you’re not familiar, Exit Interview is:

a weekly interview series with someone who has left Philadelphia, perhaps for another country or region or even just out of city limits and often taking talent, business and jobs with them.

The posts detail the various reasons some professionals have decided to leave Philly for greener pastures.

Why is this happening?

We’re a bunch of haters

Philly carries with it a self-loathing the likes of which I’ve never seen. It’s like that kid in high school who couldn’t take a compliment and would actually start a fight because “you’re too friendly.” Philly doesn’t want to be your friend. It wants your lunch money.

And for the people that live here, many of us have been stricken with “Philadelphia Syndrome,” an ailment so poisonous it kills good ideas while they’re still in your brain. Symptoms include: highlighting the Rocky statue as a reason to visit, asking questions like, “Why do you work so hard?” and the ability to hate on nearly everything for any or no reason at all. Yet, amazingly, Philly basks in its self-hatred… There must be something in the water.

Despite all of this, like everyone else who’s from here, I love Philadelphia. I love the parks, the art, the food, the Ben Franklin, the retardedly passionate sports fans and, of course, that guy who rides around town with a PA system. God I love that guy.

It’s the biggest small town I’ve ever been to. And hey, I really can’t complain if everyone’s a little nicer when the Phillies win.

But still, if we’re going to do anything the rest of the country cares about, we’ve got to cure this disease. People are leaving. People are fleeing. Here’s where I started, why I left, and why I came back.

Learn Here. Lead Anywhere

It begins with Drexel University. I chose to go to Drexel because I wanted to work. I love working, and if college was the thing to do, I was going to go to one that let me make money while I was there. (If you don’t know about the Co-op program, ask someone.) Naturally, I majored in Business.

When I arrived, I felt like I was back in 8th grade. Suddenly, it wasn’t cool to learn again. I can’t tell you how many times I raised my hand to have a teacher’s point expanded upon only to get glares from the rest of the class with faces that read, “Why do you care?” Why do I care!? Because I’m paying out the ass for this shit! And hey, maybe I’m trying to use this information to start an empire.

To me, no one was making it for themselves. People talked about entrepreneurship, but it just didn’t feel like anything was happening. I knew this wasn’t true because I’d heard about people from Drexel with big ideas, but they’d usually be biotech startups that, unfortunately, weren’t close to my area of expertise. For the first three years, I swore I’m going to drop out.

I decided to move to NYC.

“You’re So New York”

For a long time, me and my friend, Dan, had been joking about the attitude in Philly. For a couple of 18 year olds who weren’t waiting for things to happen, our home was holding us back. He wanted to make movies with explosions, I wanted to build a business. We had to leave. Dan went to film school at NYU and was having a blast while I bided my time back in University City. Finally, through Drexel’s Co-op system, I had 6 months to try on New York.

We both went to New York for the same reason; the same reason everyone goes there: to “make it.” It didn’t matter what “making it” meant, but just being there was enough to get started. And to be honest, I felt none of that at home. People were on fire in NY. Everyone I spoke to seemed like they were on mission. It rocked.

People didn’t really care where you were from. They cared what you were doing. When I told people I was from Philadelphia, I received vague pity for being from an unremarkable city, if anything at all. Most were just indifferent.

Upon returning to Philly for the holidays, I was surprised to be greeted with an annoying smugness from both friends and family alike. It seemed that people assumed that since I lived in NY, I must think I’m better than everyone else, and to pre-empt my hubris, they’d downplay just about everything I was trying to accomplish. Kind of like a reverse pretentiousness. This was particularly true for just about every woman I approached in bars back home. Apparently, Philly girls can smell your ego.

Why am I still here?

So, I moved back after two sets of 6 months in NYC to finish my degree at Drexel. I didn’t have the balls to drop out since I was already about $80,000 in the hole. However, I did meet some guys who did have the balls to drop out of Drexel.

I met John and Chris at Honey’s Sit and Eat in November of 2009. They wanted to change what people thought was possible with web technology. They wanted to shake things up. They wanted to build spaceships. I was down with that.

They brought me in to Devnuts, and together, we’re pushing that same vision a little bit further every day. If I had not have met these two, I can tell you I would be back in New York in a heartbeat.

The fight for the cure

Honestly, in my opinion, the only way to fight Philadelphia Syndrome is to put our heads down and create something great. Forget New York. Forget LA. Whether its an innovative school, a new way to work, or what we’re doing with Devnuts, don’t stop until people start noticing. Stop whining. For God’s sake stop whining. Stop talking about what you’re doing and just do it. Once that happens, Philadelphia will start to be known as a place where things are happening and not a place where things might happen.

The reality is, cities are like women. You’re attracted to the ones that don’t need you. New York doesn’t need you, it’s the center of the universe. LA is where movie stars live, you’re not worthy. Philadelphia begs for you to like them. Remember we’ve got such great art! Almost all cities have great art. That’s not a reason to live here.