Let’s start with what might seem like a throwaway stat: Pittsburgh squeaked out a population gain last year. Barely. According to the latest Census data, among the 40 largest metros in the country, every single one grew—except Pittsburgh… almost. But thanks to new Haitian immigrants settling in Charleroi and surrounding Mon Valley towns, we stayed on the right side of zero.
Now, if you're only tracking headlines, you might miss how meaningful that is. But here’s the thing—sometimes staying steady in a shifting world is its own kind of progress.
For decades, Pittsburgh’s been typecast in a certain way: Rust Belt, aging, declining. We’ve worn that label longer than we should have. So even a modest uptick—especially one powered by new immigrant communities—is worth pausing for.
It’s not just about the net change. It’s about what kind of change it is.
See, when places like Houston or Orlando grow, it’s easy to chalk it up to sun, jobs, and lower taxes. That’s part of the story, sure. But Pittsburgh isn’t winning a climate contest. It’s not dropping hundreds of thousands of new apartments or handing out big relocation bonuses. And yet, here we are—not shrinking.
Sometimes, staying the same is a quiet kind of victory.
Chris Briem, a regional economist and one of the sharpest minds on Pittsburgh demographics, recently shared a bar chart that could’ve made for a grim headline. It showed population changes across the top 40 metro areas in the U.S. from July 2023 to July 2024. Every. Single. One. Grew.
Except Pittsburgh.
But it turns out—we did grow. Barely. And mostly because of the Haitian immigrant community quietly planting roots in the Mon Valley. It wasn’t some flashy tech boom or huge industry pivot. It was people. Families. Moving in. Taking a chance.
That kind of growth doesn’t always get a headline. But it probably should.
Let’s zoom in for a second. In Charleroi, a former mill town on the Mon River that many outsiders might call forgotten, you’ve got Haitian families bringing energy, culture, and fresh entrepreneurial grit. They’re not just filling houses—they’re revitalizing blocks. You see it in the corner stores popping up, the music and food, the renewed sense of motion.
It reminds you that growth isn’t always big or loud. Sometimes it’s subtle—a few more bikes outside, a busier local library, a classroom that needs a second teacher because enrollment ticked up.
That’s the stuff that keeps a town alive.
We talk a lot about revitalization—especially in post-industrial places like Western PA. But here’s a not-so-secret ingredient to making that real: immigration.
Newcomers bring momentum. They bring kids into aging school systems, spend money at the local shops, launch businesses in long-vacant storefronts. They don’t just patch holes—they reknit the fabric of a place.
You know what’s wild? The U.S. as a whole only grew by 0.5% last year. Without immigration, it would’ve been flat. Or negative. So this isn’t just a Pittsburgh story. It’s a national one. But here, it’s more personal—because every new family carries the weight of rebuilding.
Let’s be real. A lot of metros are booming. Orlando led the pack with over 2.5% growth. Houston, Dallas, Charlotte, Miami—all jumping up the charts. And that makes sense. They’re magnets for remote workers, retirees, young families priced out of coastal cities.
They’ve got sprawl, sure. But they’ve also got momentum. You can build a thousand new homes a year in those markets and still have a waiting list.
But growth brings its own problems: skyrocketing rents, traffic nightmares, overburdened infrastructure. Sometimes a pause is healthy. Sometimes slow and steady keeps a city livable.
So while Pittsburgh might not be booming, it also isn’t buckling. That counts for something.
We’re not throwing a party over 0.0% growth. But we are saying: there’s a story underneath that number. And it matters.
Communities like Charleroi are showing that revival doesn’t always need a billion-dollar investment or some flashy development. Sometimes it looks like families rebuilding homes. Neighbors watching each other’s kids. A new language spoken in the supermarket.
It’s not flashy. But it’s real.
And that’s the kind of growth worth rooting for.
Despite what the charts say, people like me—and maybe you, too—are still betting on Pittsburgh. Not because it’s perfect. But because it’s possible.
We’ve got old bones, strong bones. Architecture that lasts. Streets that tell stories. Real estate that still feels within reach. There’s room to build. Room to dream. And room to do it differently.
And if we can create a city where immigrants thrive, where families feel welcome, where neighborhoods grow block by block—that’s not a trend. That’s a movement.
In the end, yeah—growth is nice. It makes people feel like things are moving in the right direction. But grit? Grit builds the foundation that growth stands on.
So here’s to the ones who moved here when it wasn’t easy. Who stayed when things felt stuck. Who opened stores, started families, showed up. Who turned the page on the old Pittsburgh story.
We didn’t shrink. We didn’t surge. But we held on. And maybe, just maybe, that’s how comebacks start.
Let’s keep going.