At last public comment session on arena project, tensions on full display

Monday night was the final public comment session for the 76ers arena, and Philadelphia did not go quietly.

Tensions were high throughout the night, with some bitter exchanges between people in the crowd. The two sides were often visibly frustrated with each other, and general noisiness during testimony was frequent. The pro-arena crowd was especially effective at this. Some carried on conversations among themselves or threw out occasional interjections while testifiers spoke. Most took to collectively shouting “Time!” to drown out opponents as soon as they went over, and chanting “Build it!” in between speakers. Arena opponents jeered as well, shouting “liar!” or booing during pro-arena testimonies. 

Multiple times throughout the night, speakers had their mics cut off or bent away from their face by the sergeant of arms who stood by the podium. 

City Hall had already begun automatically turning away requests to testify nearly a week earlier, citing an overflow of speakers. Scores of attendees crowded the hall on Monday night, with over 100 taking to the mic and nearly 70 relegated to the waitlist to testify. An anti-arena majority occupied half of the ground floor and filled much of the upstairs balconies, while a larger-than-usual pro-arena minority — mostly union workers, and mostly men — spread throughout the other half of the chamber floor. Across the hallway, a separate overflow room displaying a livestream from Council chambers filled up with arena opponents standing and sitting cross-legged on the floor. 

The night began with confusion and then dissatisfaction, as Council President Kenyatta Johnson announced that speakers would have only one minute to speak instead of the usual three, prompting a wave of disgruntled murmurs from the crowd. 

The vast majority of speakers spoke against the arena, as was the case in all previous public comment sessions. Opponents included nurses, teachers, Chinatown and Gayborhood residents, social workers, activists, a significant number of Christian leaders involved with the local group POWER Interfaith, and other Philadelphians without a direct connection to the issue. Supporters who took to the mic included members of IBEW Local 98, business owners, and real estate developers. 

While most arguments in either camp weren’t new after weeks of testimony in the books, some chose to take a more provocative approach in the 11th hour.

Legacy real estate developer Jeremy Blatstein, for example, made a general accusation of antisemitism towards arena opponents.

“Let’s talk about everyone’s favorite topic: big scary Jewish billionaires,” Blatstein said. This drew incredulous “No’s” and booing from arena opponents around the room. 

“Yes, three rich Jewish men own the 76ers and want to invest $1.3 billion into the city of Philadelphia. Isn’t that a good thing?” he continued before pausing and grinning as the crowd continued to boo. 

“You antisemite!” one attendee called out. 

“Some of the rhetoric by groups and organizations against the arena have been blatantly antisemitism,” Blatstein continued after the one-minute timer went off. 

Arena opponent Joline Price, who spoke 15 minutes later, began her remarks by saying, “I feel the need to say after comments earlier that I am proudly Jewish.” Several other arena opponents throughout the night followed suit, identifying themselves as Jewish. 

Later in the session, IBEW Local 98 member Robin Tasco, a Black woman, took a controversial turn in her speech after beginning with the famed “practice” quote from Sixers player Allen Iverson. 

“What are we talking about here, practice?” she said. “This legislation, as far as I’m concerned, hit most of the boxes. Now everybody ain’t gonna be happy, but guess what? If we don’t have any economics coming into the city, all this other stuff we’re talking about don’t mean nothing.”

“We’re talking about Chinatown. I got love for you. But guess what? [Majority] of the people in the city of Philadelphia look like me,” she continued. “And I’m ready for opportunity.” 

Jordan Hall, an anti-arena activist from the Sunrise Movement, pushed back on Tasco’s testimony toward the end of the night. “The young lady who said, ‘I got love for Chinatown, but you don’t look like me so you’re out of luck’ — I’m a Black man. That’s racist garbage.” 

Hall, who introduced himself as a former member of an IUE-CWA chapter for optical retail workers, also had harsh words for the union crowd. 

“When in the history of ever has bending the knee for billionaires and licking their boots helped any of us?” Hall said. “Everybody here who has been against the arena has said we want y’all to have jobs, we want things to be built. Just not here.”

Kaia Chau, a young Philadelphia native who introduced herself as a cofounder of Chinatown’s Ginger Arts Center, criticized the Parker administration’s lack of outreach to the neighborhood.

“Developers promised to call a community meeting in Chinatown to speak to us directly, but they never did. We then asked the developers to come to a community meeting we organized to address this. They never came — they sent their D.E.I. person. They then failed to talk to anyone in Chinatown for eight months,” Chau said. “Do you know how it feels, for two and a half years, in light of a legacy of city-driven destruction, we still have to fight? And now to plead once again not to be destroyed, to finally be valued and be protected by a city that has taken so much of our community already.” 

Nearly two hours into the session, No Arena Coalition member Rachel Chang chose to sing rather than speak when called to the mic. She chose one of the many original protest songs in the Coalition’s repertoire — usually sung at demonstrations outside rather than in government hearings. 

“Who will you stand for? Who will you fight for? Who are you protecting?” Chang began, as boos and jeers from arena supporters filled the room and drowned out her singing. “The people say ‘no arena,’ ” Chang continued, tapping on the podium. 

“She can’t sing, it’s not allowed!” one union member yelled. 

The sergeant bent down the mic and ushered her away before she hit the minute mark. 

Melanie Hsu, clad in the same No Arena red shirt, followed Chang. She also began to sing. 

“Will you tell your children —” Hsu began, to immediate shouts and jeers from the union crowd. The sound was then cut from the mic. Council President Johnson told the crowd to let her finish her time at the mic, though he laughed as he said it. 

“No law says I can’t sing,” Hsu said, smiling at Johnson, before returning to her song over the continuing din of objection from one side of the room. 

Dozens of No Arena Coalition members gathered outside City Hall after the three-hour hearing finally came to a close. Standing in a circle and holding small candles, the activists sang once more — this time, with anti-arena lyrics to the tune of “This Little Light of Mine.” 

What comes next will be decided by City Council — and that remains a bit of a mystery. The 17 Councilmembers met Tuesday and left with plans to reconvene Thursday. Among the negotiating levers: the Sixers reportedly might be willing to expand their community benefits agreement beyond the currently agreed-on $50 million.