February 16th, my favorite day of the year. Not just because my heartbreak hangover
(from valentines) has faded away but it is a wonderful time to have a birthday.
AH half priced goodies and stuffed animals just seem to find their ways to me, and I am a sucker for all the Valentine’s Day junk. Even though having a birthday right after Valentines Day has its perks, this year my birthday was destined to be a travesty (my birthday was on a Tuesday and I went out on a Monday), so I decided that if I wasn’t going to have too much fun, I was going to get some work done for this class.
My best friend had offered to take me out and so we (yes just the two of us) decided to hit Jaguar Karaoke in Downtown. And I liked it! I recommend everyone in this class to go. Grab some great friends and go just to hang out.
This Karaoke club is for all the shy people out there who don’t want to sing in front of strangers. There are individual rooms that you rent by the hour. The smaller rooms that are meant for 4 people but can easily fit 6 are $20, and the larger rooms which hold 8+ people are $25.
The place is in some weird plaza with other Asian establishments and from the outside you couldn’t guess that the rooms would be so trendy. Beautiful black leather couches, mod painted walls, even light effects to help set the mood for your performance. The club has a great song selection in English and Chinese.
After we left the Karaoke club, my friend and I ended up grabbing dinner at Luka’s Taproom on Grand avenue and Broadway Street. Dinner was so good. The burgers were selling like crack in the 80’s, so I ordered one, best burger I’ve had from that area, maybe the best burger I’ve had, but worth trying.
After eating it was time to get to work, so I downed my $9 shot of Patron and proceeded to schmooze a little, landing some new sources and contacts.
Not too surprisingly Lukas’s a place where the yuppies come to hang out after they ditch their confining slacks and blazers. The atmosphere was so relaxed and warm. In the front was the restaurant narrow and romantically lit, in the back a nice sized dance floor and pool tables a very low key relax spot.
I had a decent time from my birthday and deciding to go out to my beat for my birthday worked out to my advantage.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Meeting on Embarcadero
I went to a meeting at the Port Commission Hearing Room the Ferry Building on Embarcadero. The Planning Department’s Northeast Embarcadero Study was initiated by Supervisor Chiu and funded by the Port of San Francisco, according to San Francisco Planning Department. The study timeline is a year and being completed in four phases. “Public comment has been solicited and considered throughout the entire Study and will continue as the recommendations are considered by each commission.” I was the youngest one there.
It was basically about urban development. It seems the city will go through with further development on the Embarcadero, but it also wishes to know what local resident think about it, and what the impact of development might be.
There are talking about opening up and extending streets to Embarcadero, and closing a lane on that street to make more space for pedestrians. That street is like a surface highway. They’re talking about opening up the spaces and adding greenery, such as plants and lawns for recreation and sports.
Of course, some complained that they do not desire a more ‘urban’ Embarcadero, and that the reason they like Embarcadero is because it is relatively quiet and does not have many shops or tourists. A local resident at the meeting said, the tourists can have pier, but leave Embarcadero alone.
Since urban development is a hard subject to cover, even those at the meeting thought the subject was very broad and the guidelines many to cover. There will be another meeting soon. Apparently, the city and its people want to develop Embarcadero and Fisherman's Wharf to create a better 'sense of place,' and open up the Northeast Waterfront to contextually connect it to the city.
Is UCSF in San Francisco?
As I decide on a meeting to go to for the assignment, I could have gone to something about the beach, which I was fairly interested in (being as I am a Southern California girl) or go to a meeting about the expansion of UCSF. So against all odds, I went to the meeting about building expansions that UCSF plans to do in the next 15 years...sounds so exciting right?
Anyways, as I approach UCSF I truly felt as if I had left San Francisco. There were strange buses that I have never been on (such as the 6) and people with scrubs (whether it be cute scrubs with cartoon characters on it, 0r just a solid color) I was clearly like a fish out of water with my North Face backpack. Having no clue where the building I needed to go to was, I aimlessly walked around with big eyes and just soaked everything in.
I saw a strange art piece that was hidden behind glass that stood about 2 stories high. I am not sure exactly what it was, or what it represented and why it was there because I didn't have time to stop and actually look, but what I did notice was that it illuminated a very large area that without it would not have any light. The light led me straight to the building and room I needed to be in ( I felt a bit like a mosquito in the dark being attracted to the almighty light).
I got into the meeting a little bit early and was warmly greeted. I was very nervous about this assignment because I did not think anyone would be interested in talking to a State student, becuse it was fairly irrelevant to SFSU. To my surprise talking to people was so easy and for me this assignment really helped me break out of my shell a little. I am a photographer, and hide behind my camera, but I actually had to do some hard reporting which actually went a lot smoother then I thought.
Anyways, as I approach UCSF I truly felt as if I had left San Francisco. There were strange buses that I have never been on (such as the 6) and people with scrubs (whether it be cute scrubs with cartoon characters on it, 0r just a solid color) I was clearly like a fish out of water with my North Face backpack. Having no clue where the building I needed to go to was, I aimlessly walked around with big eyes and just soaked everything in.
I saw a strange art piece that was hidden behind glass that stood about 2 stories high. I am not sure exactly what it was, or what it represented and why it was there because I didn't have time to stop and actually look, but what I did notice was that it illuminated a very large area that without it would not have any light. The light led me straight to the building and room I needed to be in ( I felt a bit like a mosquito in the dark being attracted to the almighty light).
I got into the meeting a little bit early and was warmly greeted. I was very nervous about this assignment because I did not think anyone would be interested in talking to a State student, becuse it was fairly irrelevant to SFSU. To my surprise talking to people was so easy and for me this assignment really helped me break out of my shell a little. I am a photographer, and hide behind my camera, but I actually had to do some hard reporting which actually went a lot smoother then I thought.
Ok, I Get It.
My previous blog posts have playfully made fun of the Marina and its residents. I joke about their lack of culture. Mock the lack of diversity and generally portray it as neighborhood for those who are scared of the real world.
Today, however, I get it. Recent events have made me understand the desire to retreat
into the safety of familiarity.
I came home from school last Wednesday to find out that a man had been shot to death just half a block from my apartment. He was gunned down in broad daylight on a crowded street. This was the second murder on my block in under a year.
For contrast, the Marina as a whole has had just one murder since 2007.
I’m a small-town kid. A big police story where I come from is when someone puts dish soap into the town fountain -I'll never forget the bubble riots of '97. I have never experienced the reality of the big city to the depth I have recently. San Francisco can be a pretty scary place.
I totally understand the desire to insulate oneself within a neighborhood like the Marina. I want that kind of safety now and I don’t have children or expensive possessions.
Previously I saw Marina residents unaware people living in a bubble. Granted, there surely are people like that. Yet I realize now that a large number are probably people just like me, people who had the city slap them in the face.
I know now that it wasn’t mindless migrationary instincts that herded folks to the Marina, but rather a conscious choice based on priorities. Yes a sacrifice in authenticity is required, but comfort and safety just take precedent for some people.
I get it Marina. In my future, I hope I don’t make the same choice, but I get it.
Today, however, I get it. Recent events have made me understand the desire to retreat
into the safety of familiarity.
I came home from school last Wednesday to find out that a man had been shot to death just half a block from my apartment. He was gunned down in broad daylight on a crowded street. This was the second murder on my block in under a year.
For contrast, the Marina as a whole has had just one murder since 2007.
I’m a small-town kid. A big police story where I come from is when someone puts dish soap into the town fountain -I'll never forget the bubble riots of '97. I have never experienced the reality of the big city to the depth I have recently. San Francisco can be a pretty scary place.
I totally understand the desire to insulate oneself within a neighborhood like the Marina. I want that kind of safety now and I don’t have children or expensive possessions.
Previously I saw Marina residents unaware people living in a bubble. Granted, there surely are people like that. Yet I realize now that a large number are probably people just like me, people who had the city slap them in the face.
I know now that it wasn’t mindless migrationary instincts that herded folks to the Marina, but rather a conscious choice based on priorities. Yes a sacrifice in authenticity is required, but comfort and safety just take precedent for some people.
I get it Marina. In my future, I hope I don’t make the same choice, but I get it.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
MUNI in Bernal Heights
Windy, cold, and waiting for the 67, I tried to flag a taxi but got ignored.
I had been waiting for 40 minutes already when a women pulled her car up to the bus stop and said, "Are you waiting for the bus?" "Yes, I am," I replied. "Oh, well it might be awhile because it seems that one came from this way and another from that and now they've blocked each other."
The side streets of Bernal Heights are quite narrow, and it seems there is not enough room for two buses to pass each other. But, instead of being able to focus on figuring out what to do about how to navigate the narrow streets, or even have consistent service to Bernal Heights, MUNI is now faced with decreased route service, less drivers, and another fee hike on the way.
"It's really terrible that the already crappy, inconsistent service is going to get worse. It's only going to encourage people to drive their cars instead of hop on the bus. It's getting so expensive to ride the bus that it's not saving money to ride it anymore," said Bernal Heights resident Tatum Mangus.
The 67 is not proposed to receive any changes in frequency, but total run time will be cut by a total of four hours. Meaning the bus will not run before 8 a.m. or after 10 p.m.
MUNI will be laying off 230 drivers.
I had been waiting for 40 minutes already when a women pulled her car up to the bus stop and said, "Are you waiting for the bus?" "Yes, I am," I replied. "Oh, well it might be awhile because it seems that one came from this way and another from that and now they've blocked each other."
The side streets of Bernal Heights are quite narrow, and it seems there is not enough room for two buses to pass each other. But, instead of being able to focus on figuring out what to do about how to navigate the narrow streets, or even have consistent service to Bernal Heights, MUNI is now faced with decreased route service, less drivers, and another fee hike on the way.
"It's really terrible that the already crappy, inconsistent service is going to get worse. It's only going to encourage people to drive their cars instead of hop on the bus. It's getting so expensive to ride the bus that it's not saving money to ride it anymore," said Bernal Heights resident Tatum Mangus.
The 67 is not proposed to receive any changes in frequency, but total run time will be cut by a total of four hours. Meaning the bus will not run before 8 a.m. or after 10 p.m.
MUNI will be laying off 230 drivers.
Meet me... really...
The SOMA redevelopment meeting was really depressing.
It solidifies my beliefs that societal problems are inherent in our current structure. They are designed to put rich men in business suits at the head of committees, deciding the welfare of the poor. How can somebody so far removed from the working class make these decisions? Not because they are insensitive, but because they are only governing from their own class biases.
Luckily for SOMPAC, the president has been a longtime single room occupancy (SRO) resident. SOMPAC actually requires at least one SRO resident on the board, I assume to solve the very problem above.
And while the name badge may say president, other more affluent business types ruled over the meeting. The person in charge of the budget independently chose where $50,000 for the next fiscal year would be budgeted. His misuse of power was noted by the rest of the committee but no action against the spending took place. A small respectful tiff wasn't going to be enough, but the other members seemed apathetic.
I was the only member of the public there, when the meeting directly impacted low income residents of the district. I couldn't decide if it was because these meetings were under-advertised or people didn't care. I was looking hardcore for any kind of advertisement outside of their web page, but couldn't find anything outside of a SFGOV listing. Shouldn't all public meetings have huge advertisements, particularly in the community centers and SRO's?
Their entire plan was depressing...
They want to remodel the transbay terminal, where many of the SOMA homeless sleep. It's a place where they can have some shield from the rain and doesn't get constantly patrolled by the security guards who wander around the SOMA. They plan to make two high-rise towers, one for condos and the other for commercial properties.
At this point, the main goal seems to be development and profit. Sure, they keep around about 50 SRO's but that is nothing compared to the people who are being pushed out. A figure that sticks out, for every 25 SRO's they're tearing down, only one will go back up.
And the president who I thought was a huge example of rising above her class, merely seems a pawn in the society. She was just filling a quota rather than commanding the direction of the committee.
--------------------------
More investigation necessary to write my article.
It solidifies my beliefs that societal problems are inherent in our current structure. They are designed to put rich men in business suits at the head of committees, deciding the welfare of the poor. How can somebody so far removed from the working class make these decisions? Not because they are insensitive, but because they are only governing from their own class biases.
Luckily for SOMPAC, the president has been a longtime single room occupancy (SRO) resident. SOMPAC actually requires at least one SRO resident on the board, I assume to solve the very problem above.
And while the name badge may say president, other more affluent business types ruled over the meeting. The person in charge of the budget independently chose where $50,000 for the next fiscal year would be budgeted. His misuse of power was noted by the rest of the committee but no action against the spending took place. A small respectful tiff wasn't going to be enough, but the other members seemed apathetic.
I was the only member of the public there, when the meeting directly impacted low income residents of the district. I couldn't decide if it was because these meetings were under-advertised or people didn't care. I was looking hardcore for any kind of advertisement outside of their web page, but couldn't find anything outside of a SFGOV listing. Shouldn't all public meetings have huge advertisements, particularly in the community centers and SRO's?
Their entire plan was depressing...
They want to remodel the transbay terminal, where many of the SOMA homeless sleep. It's a place where they can have some shield from the rain and doesn't get constantly patrolled by the security guards who wander around the SOMA. They plan to make two high-rise towers, one for condos and the other for commercial properties.
At this point, the main goal seems to be development and profit. Sure, they keep around about 50 SRO's but that is nothing compared to the people who are being pushed out. A figure that sticks out, for every 25 SRO's they're tearing down, only one will go back up.
And the president who I thought was a huge example of rising above her class, merely seems a pawn in the society. She was just filling a quota rather than commanding the direction of the committee.
--------------------------
More investigation necessary to write my article.
A Very Wet Meeting
It really sucks when you have to go somewhere you haven't been to before and it's pouring outside. I finally found a meeting in the Excelsior last Thursday, but I couldn't find a bus that would take me there from Daly City, where I live. Luckily, my friend gave me directions from Balboa BART, and even though she said I only had to walk for 10 minutes to get to the place where the meeting was, it seriously felt like 10 hours. (It always feels longer when you're not exactly sure where you're going) I was pretty glad it was just raining and not super windy, like most rainy days, where you can't even have an umbrella open.
The meeting was at 7 p.m. so I made sure I left my house at least an hour early just in case I got lost. I was kind of scared walking pass the Safeway on Mission by myself at night. A creepy guy passed by me on the street, which quickly reminded me my mom had bought me pepper spray last week, which I had thrown somewhere in my room. You don't know how bad I wish I had it at that moment. As I power-walked up Mission, I finally crossed Santa Rosa Street, where the meeting was going to be.
Excelsior District Improvement Association is a non profit organization that's been around for over 65 years trying to better their neighborhood. The web site welcomed anyone that was interested in attending the meeting so they gave a pretty friendly vibe. As I was walking down the street, I was looking out for a big building or a school where I thought the meeting might be. I remember glancing at this really cute house to my left that caught my attention. It had a huge tree branch hanging down the porch that was covered with plants. I looked for the address and I realized it matched the address on my notebook.
I made my way up the front stairs, and I wasn't really sure what to do since I wasn't expecting the meeting to be at a house. When I rang the doorbell, this really old man slowly opened the door. He stared at me, holding his cane and said, "Who are you? Are you here for the meeting?" At that moment, for some weird reason, I knew this was going to be interesting...
Friday, February 26, 2010
Mission number three
Yesterday was one of the most beautiful days I’ve seen in the Mission, exceptionally nice when paralleled with the dreary drizzly raindrops bangin on my window right now.I got there early to attend my meeting and I was there until I left for class at 3 p.m. My meeting was the monthly gathering of the Mission Community Council (MiCoCo), an umbrella organization that oversees the interaction between about 60 other organizations throughout the neighborhood.
They just lost 62 percent of their funding, so now they’re trying to figure out what they can do to stay alive. It was pretty sad being there because it seemed like such a nice group of well i
ntentioned people, simply at the end of their rope.The other organizations in attendance all said they wished they could do anything to help, but that they were all in just as bad of shape.
I spoke with a woman named Molly Burke, a public relations representative from BART. She told me that MiCoCo was a wonderful organization that did a lot for the community, but that dark times are upon us all.
Burke stressed the severity of the situation by explaining that MiCoCo was more or less at the top of the food chain for community organizations in the neighborhood, so if their situation is indicative of the overall condition, things are real bad.
On a better note, I got a bunch of awesome shirts from Goodwill on Mission, and I’m feelin that. I also enjoyed some lumpia from Irma’s Kitchen on the corner of Mission and South Van Ness. It was awesome!
I had one of the best burritos I’ve ever tasted in my life from Papalote on 24th and Valencia. It was sooooo good. If you don’t believe me check it out on the Food Network. You can see Papalote’s owners, the Burrito Brothers, holding it down and showing Bobby Flay what’s up with the burrito!
I ran into Anrica Deb, a reporter for MissionLoc@l.com at the meeting. She was cool and I had an assignment for Digital Newsgathering to get some interviewing tips from a pro journalist, so I asked her for some advice and recorded what she said. I’ll post it here in case anyone is interested.
I broke my collar bone. That has nothing to do with the Mission or school or my blog. However, as I sit here typing this, it hurts more and more, so I thought maybe sharing my pain with the world would provide some relief. I’ll let you know how that goes.
In conclusion, I leave you with this:
In terms of life, never look before you leap; just do it. In terms of skateboarding down giant hills in the pitch black of midnight, by all means, take a gander.
Finally, don’t ever, ever, ever, ever, go to the hospital unless you are dying. You’ll thank me for that juicy tidbit later.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Bernal Demographics
Bernal Heights is a mainly residential neighborhood with a population of 67,596 according to Point 2 Homes.
The population is 52 percent male and 48 percent female.
There are 28,285 people per square mile.
There are 24, 468 households; 7,873 with children.
14,451 residents have their bachelor's degree,
6,604 do not have their high school diploma.
15,591 residents are married.
The average household income is $81,029.
The neighborhood is generally safe, especially when compared to it’s neighbor, the Inner Mission, according to SFgov.org’s crimeMap. The neighborhood suffered only 1/4 the amount of assaults, 1/6th the amount of burglary, and 1/3rd the amount of vandalism, within a 7-week period.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Crashing Parties = Good Times
I was poking around on the City of Oakland’s website researching and digging for information for our assignments, when I ran across the mayor’s calendar. I thought, “Wow, is this guy (the mayor) really not making any public appearances after this conference until August or am I reading this wrong?” So I felt that I better go even though the meeting was scheduled from 9:00 a.m. till 5:00 p.m. “What the hell kind of meeting is that long?” I was officially confused but, I dragged myself out of my warm bed at 6:30 a.m. and journeyed up the huge hill by 7:30a.m. to get to the Claremont Hotel by 9:00 a.m..
I felt weirdly proud of myself that I put in the effort to really do this, but it was still eight -something in the morning and it was too early to be so arrogant. When I got there I didn’t realize what I was doing, I was distracted by the beautiful hotel, honestly this place looked like a castle on the outside and was so plush on the inside I started to feel way too underdressed in my button up and black slacks.
I went to enter the room and as I walked by a lady at a table said, “Excuse me miss, you need a name tag.” “Um, what?” I thought. I was in the moment and looked at the table, like I was looking for my name tag, and after an appropriate amount of time I asked for the sign in sheet because I couldn’t find my name, then I started a bogus conversation with the woman so she wouldn’t ask me any questions and it worked! She wrote me out a name tag gave me the agenda, and a green leather planner with the city of Oakland’s logo on the front.
And When I walked in, it was so lovely. There was a continental breakfast, the tables were coved in expensive white linens and the beautiful white lily center pieces were calling for me to take one home with me, but of course I didn’t, I chose a random seat (ignored the place card) and started a conversation with a nice lady who entertained me till the conference started.
Then after prayer the woman who was in charge announced that they were going to start giving out awards. Awards at a conference? Then it dawned on me, that this was a luncheon for the clergy and I had crashed their party. I had overlooked all the signs that maybe I shouldn’t have been there but by time lunch came, I just thought well, no one told me to give up my seat.
I used to work in non-profit and when we would put on luncheons like this can run up to $10,000 a table ($1,000 per person) and I hope that the city didn’t make the clergy donate to get a table. I didn’t really dig anymore into the subject.
But the day went extremely smooth they had “break-out” sessions where after every hour or so people would leave to different rooms to attend workshops on topics like time banking and personal safety for faith based organizations, and during lunch they even had musical performances from some of the youth that were involved in violence prevention programs. It was great.
I’m very glad that I went to the conference, it was exciting, encouraging, I met a lot of awesome sources and I even got free food. I would definitely love to crash another conference like this.
I felt weirdly proud of myself that I put in the effort to really do this, but it was still eight -something in the morning and it was too early to be so arrogant. When I got there I didn’t realize what I was doing, I was distracted by the beautiful hotel, honestly this place looked like a castle on the outside and was so plush on the inside I started to feel way too underdressed in my button up and black slacks.
I went to enter the room and as I walked by a lady at a table said, “Excuse me miss, you need a name tag.” “Um, what?” I thought. I was in the moment and looked at the table, like I was looking for my name tag, and after an appropriate amount of time I asked for the sign in sheet because I couldn’t find my name, then I started a bogus conversation with the woman so she wouldn’t ask me any questions and it worked! She wrote me out a name tag gave me the agenda, and a green leather planner with the city of Oakland’s logo on the front.
And When I walked in, it was so lovely. There was a continental breakfast, the tables were coved in expensive white linens and the beautiful white lily center pieces were calling for me to take one home with me, but of course I didn’t, I chose a random seat (ignored the place card) and started a conversation with a nice lady who entertained me till the conference started.
Then after prayer the woman who was in charge announced that they were going to start giving out awards. Awards at a conference? Then it dawned on me, that this was a luncheon for the clergy and I had crashed their party. I had overlooked all the signs that maybe I shouldn’t have been there but by time lunch came, I just thought well, no one told me to give up my seat.
I used to work in non-profit and when we would put on luncheons like this can run up to $10,000 a table ($1,000 per person) and I hope that the city didn’t make the clergy donate to get a table. I didn’t really dig anymore into the subject.
But the day went extremely smooth they had “break-out” sessions where after every hour or so people would leave to different rooms to attend workshops on topics like time banking and personal safety for faith based organizations, and during lunch they even had musical performances from some of the youth that were involved in violence prevention programs. It was great.
I’m very glad that I went to the conference, it was exciting, encouraging, I met a lot of awesome sources and I even got free food. I would definitely love to crash another conference like this.
History repeats itself
It was unusually warm in San Francisco when I went reporting in the Castro. My heels were starting to give and I could feel a veil of sweat starting to emerge, all the while I was searching for one thing: history. My last article was lacking of such information, and I knew it. But where, I wondered, would I find history now? The LGBT museum has since closed down, and most people I saw were too young (or careless) to have any knowledge of how the place was founded and how it grew into what it is today.
I passed this place a million times throughout the day, each time making a note to come back and each time making sure I would be able to make it back before it closed. The sign in the window said: "GOING OUT OF BUSINESS SALE." What is should have said was: "CASTRO HISTORY INSIDE."
I finally went in, and a finely dressed man named Omar Hampton greeted me. I hadn't a clue how I would get information from a man who was losing his business without seeming prying and vulture-like. I went with pure honesty. So went the interview back and forth about the economy, until he took it to another level.
"The younger generation think this is an antique shop. It's not. If you don't know what an antique is, I worry! Did you ever take history and geography in high school and grade school?"
"Yes, I have."
"So young people come in here and ask 'what style is this?' And I say 'It's an obelisk.' And they say 'what's an obelisk?'"
I nodded and kept a smirk to myself.
"Do you know what an obelisk is?"
The tables had turned. Suddenly, I had to ask myself: "DO I know what an obelisk is?" I nodded and pulled together what I remembered from ancient history before he had a chance to frown. Of course, my perception of an obelisk was probably sophomoric to a man who had been around elegant furniture and pieces of history from other lands for 30 years.
"I know this is a change of pace," I said. "But do you happen to know the history of the Castro?"
"Of course. What sorts of history would you like to know?"
This was when he pulled me into the 70s and told me of the setting up of shops run by gay merchants and those looking to escape the pressures and disapproval of society.
He then began to say: "And you know, even journalism was different back then. I love to watch old news clips with the anchors telling about today's news while puffing away at a cigar. Nowadays you've got Anderson Cooper showing off his biceps in Haiti and he's not even dirty. I mean, just let the people do their work and stop showing off! And now with the whole economy, it looks like we have forgotten our history. It comes back in a cycle. So, Megan. Remember your history to keep things like this from happening."
I thanked him as I looked over the tiny decorative lamps that would soon be practically given away and perhaps forgotten in a few years, all the while this man took the time to take care of these precious items. Did any of the customers get to hear him speak this way? And then I remembered how difficult it was to get many answers on the Castro's history. Is everything really going in the wastebasket?
Then he said: "If I may give you advice, be sure to let go of general dreams. Get specific. Try to find something with more detail."
It was almost as if he was trying to remind me why I am striving to be a journalist. After all, a story is worth nothing without specifics, and your reporting is nothing if you don't know your history.
(Megan Taros)
Are you interviewing me now?
It’s fair to say that I enjoy talking to people. I enjoy sharing experiences, laughing at jokes that aren’t funny, and over-doing the compliments. There are very few people I do not take pleasure in talking to. The few people I do not like speaking to fall into the categories of over talkative drunk or those who constantly respond with a quiet “I don’t know”.
This week in covering Hayes Valley, I add another category to this short list: the ex-journalist. Now I’m not going to name names because this person is a pretty valuable source. But she/he made me want to absolutely scream.
Every time I asked a question, rather it was a simple or elaborate question, she/he would gives this little cynical smirk. The awful little smile was followed by a comment like “Would you like to rephrase that last question?” or “Why don’t you try that again, eh?” After several critiqued questions, she/he admitted that she/he had studied Journalism in college.
Apparently, in that year that she/he had tried out journalism, she/he had become the Yoda of all journalistic endeavors. I sat there and forced myself to laugh and compliment her/him while my interview skills were mocked and ripped to shreds. It was an experience.
I kept wondering if I had come in with a press pass or if I had been older would I have been treated the same way? I kept analyzing my hair and how I could make it look more serious and mature. I felt my long blonde hair didn’t boast an image of serious reporter. Then it hit me…am I seriously editing my hair?
I obviously need to get tougher skin to go out on that field. A press pass or age could definitely benefit me with certain individuals. But alas, my 21-year-old self is short of a press pass and years of experience. I have much to learn.
Life in the Loin
My second week in the Tenderloin was a big one. It mainly culminated on Friday, when I went to serve breakfast in the Tenderloin at Glide Memorial Church. I am grateful to have this blog as an outlet for my personal feelings, because this week there were many.
The first thing that struck me was the demeanor of all the people. Most of the people were quite cheerful and many wanted to start up conversations or ask about my status in school. I was surprised how many times I was asked if I was in college, and the nods of approval that followed.
I got a lot of really good information from the staff, and volunteers that worked there. Glide provides jobs for many rehabilitated addicts and ex-convicts who know the programs inside and out.
It has also changed my perception entirely on the “types” of people that come to get free meal services, and the way many (myself included) would phrase, “going to feed the homeless.” It appeared that while many of the people there were indeed homeless there was a large majority who seemed quite the contrary and at the minimum have a place to store their things, shower, and get dressed.
One of the volunteers pointed out an interesting aspect of the breakfast service that I hadn’t really thought of before. He told me that for some of these people breakfast is the last meal of their day. They stay up at night, come to Glide for breakfast in the morning and sleep during the early part of the day. This made sense, and cleared up my thoughts about all the people I saw who were presumably high, nodding off at tables or in the depths of meth psychosis.
I saw and met some very interesting people. One woman stared at everyone surrounding her, including myself as if they were the devil reincarnate. Another man spit on my leg. Accidental, but none-the-less, it provided a moment where I truly had to calm my inner-self and realize there are worse ways to be, and they were gathered all around me. One man wanted to talk to me forever about his time studying the Divine Principle at UC Berkeley.
The service is run somewhat like a prison, the whole event being monitored by security guards that quell fights and sweep through when breakfast is over banging on tables and alerting the sleeping stragglers.
I took a friend with me, an international relations major, and international student from Belgium. She was really intrigued and I suspect a little overwhelmed by the experience. When we left she said she’d have to express herself the next time we saw each other because she wasn’t able to put her experience into words.
It was an unforgettable experience that I will return to take part in very soon. It was an invaluable resource for my reporting, and a great way to get to know the people on the street. The people were nicer than those I pass on my walk to work on Embarcadero. One man stopped me to tell me, "we truly appreciate you. You're working hard." Most of my preconceived notions and misconceptions were shattered.
Never in my life have so many people said, “Thank you” to me and meant it.
After my volunteer work, my boyfriend met me and we walked the streets of the Loin, looking for good food and stumbled upon a gallery we often see featured in Juxtapozed Magazine.
If you get a chance, go by The Shooting Gallery and White Walls on Larkin and Geary. The woman that worked there saw us staring in the window and opened up the big metal grates so we could have a private viewing. Awesome! The gallery was just being set up for many of the paintings were sitting on the floor, with their clear plastic wrappings fallen at their feet. It was such an eclectic mix of photography, paintings and mixed media that it fit in perfectly with the atmosphere of the neighborhood.
I have posted these fliers with permission from the gallery.
Feminine Influence in the Castro
Visiting the Castro, I am exposed to a wide range of perspective and personalities. Almost all the gay men I have interviewed continue to tell me that the Castro is a place where they can be who they are without the worry of criticism. I feel that freedom and non-judgment toward sexuality is awesome and am happy people have a place to live where they feel comfortable. However, I constantly find myself asking the same questions, where are all the lesbians? Is there a separate district for them? If not why doesn’t the Castro cater more towards their needs?
North Beach 2
Even now I have a slightly hard time talking to people. They all look like they have something to do or somewhere to go, so all my sources have come from either businesses or from Washington Square, where people are actually sitting down and relaxing. Even then they look like they have something to do. And I scared this one little girl by just randomly approaching her and saying hi. I guess she wasn’t used to that. Then her two little yippy dogs started to bark and me, and it was so embarrassing. Their barks echoed throughout the entire square. She didn’t even say anything. I don’t know why people have dogs if they can’t control them.
After that I didn’t feel like approaching another person. I just felt like a weirdo, (especially when people didn’t want to talk to me. I still get very hurt by rejection and need to work on that) going from person to person to person, um, even though that’s what reporters are supposed to do right?
But it’s beginning to become expensive to almost buy information by buying a meal every time I try to make good sources. This week, I didn’t even feel like reporting I was so lazy. But I thought, hey why not go to a few nice restaurants and have a good meal? And that helped me to talk to more people once I was full. I like talking to bartenders. Even though they’re working, they’re not all over the floor like other servers. They’re tight there in front of you. New food is the best way for me to get new experience. I already feel familiar with North Beach, and I hope I’ll see more stuff and learn a lot more very soon.
Another thing that was challenging was trying to get some people to answer what I asked. Some folks are really long winded and I could tell they wanted to make more of a personal connection rather than a professional one. I think I heard someone say something somber yet true, that, good journalists don’t have good friends, only good sources. Also, I couldn’t remember some questions until after I left the person I was interviewing. All it takes is a follow up and contact information to get what I need though, so that’s not too big a problem.
Live Dirt in Nob Hill
After my first venture into Nob and Russian hills, I was quite frustrated. As it turned out, everyone I spoke with and interviewed had lots of good things to say about their respective neighborhoods, and almost no one would speak ill of their homes. This makes sense in a way. Russian and Nob hills are extremely rich and clean. It is glaringly apparent that the hills' residents feel little or no safety concerns when traversing the tree-lined streets. Luxury hotels abound, and grand cathedrals ring out their bells that echo across the sidewalks and avenues until returning to their source as well-dressed patrons of various churches prepare themselves for worship. I was having no luck digging up dirt simply by approaching individuals in such good spirits as I had been finding.
I had to go higher up to get real information. The city statistics and demographics were useful, but only in so much that they illustrated what I had already gathered from various sources: the area is affluent, lots of white people live there, and there is very little crime out of the ordinary. To get beyond the obvious, I looked up the district supervisor, David Chiu, and called his office. I spoke with a legislative assistant to the supervisor about the issues facing Russian and Nob hills. Not surprisingly, she told me that the hills don't ask for much, and the only current issue between the two is the Live Nation expansion in the Masonic Center. The Masonic Center is a historic building in Nob Hill across from Grace Cathedral on California Street that features live music and entertainment events. Recently, the center selected Live Nation, a concert and events provider, to be the sole operator of all events in the venue. This has prompted neighborhood outrage. Neighbors are worried that Live Nation's expansion will bring more drunks to the area, as well as more traffic, and impede locals' abilities to catch cabs and buses. Also, neighbors are worried that the historical grandeur and prestige of the Masonic Center will be compromised and cheapened.
This issue is currently the biggest debate going on in the neighborhood. It doesn't surprise me that something of this nature is of such concern, as that Nob Hill is quite small and the residents are generally the well-to-do professional type and not exactly the rock concert crowd. Therefore, a company like Live Nation presents a threat to the complacent tranquility of the area and its inhabitants. However, the fact that this is the most pressing issue to the neighborhood reveals a lot about it.
The deeper I venture into Russian and Nob hills, the more I find that the area is quite charmed. A half-mile or so down Polk Street, the Tenderloin teems with prostitutes and crack dealers, while, in Nob Hill, angry neighbors are worried about catching a cab so they won't be late to the symphony. This is in no way saying that the concerns of the Nob Hill neighbors aren't legitimate, because any concern or issue that affects one's day-to-day life has merit. It just so happens that the day-to-day lives of people in these affluent hills are much different than most others, and their morning cereal may contain a few more silver spoons that the average San Franciscan.
The Beach
I have been to the Outer Sunset on numerous occasions in my 3 and a half years living in San Francisco. But every other time I have been it's either to go to a party or a friends house; never to observe. This time was very different for me. I walked around and soaked in all of the little details that I am taught to look for in all my photo classes. I looked for things that people don't see on a usual trip to the Sunset. There are many little beauties in this part of the city that not many people see. The Sunset used to be referred to as "Outside Lands," which still seems relevant. If you don't live or work in the Sunset, it's rare that one would go. People think it's too far out of the city to even spend a little time in. Like mentioned in my earlier post, I am really starting to appreciate this part of the city more and more each time I return.
I was a little bit early for an interview so I decided to walk down to the beach because it was a nice day. I have been reading a lot about the history of the Sunset and much of it includes the sand dunes. The Sunset used to be filled with these dunes and could be seen for miles and miles. It's interesting to see the difference between how the sand dunes used to be and the modern day use. Now they are used for kids to play on, sit and watch the sunset, feel the ocean breeze etc.
San Francisco is known for the vast amount of murals painted throughout the city, but the Sunset seems to never be brought up as one of the focal points. Outside of a New Orleans themed restaurant this mural was painted. It kind of showed a different part of the Sunset that I have never really seen before. There is a lot of culture in the Sunset that people over look including the small New Orleans restaurant.
These are other things that I saw on my way to the beach that I thought was interesting. A lot of the Sunset seems fairly dull to me but little to my knowledge there is a lot of vibrancy. In addition to the green building, there were vibrant blues and oranges painted along Great Highway.
The Outer Sunset is a really interesting place that I am excited to explore more of.
I was a little bit early for an interview so I decided to walk down to the beach because it was a nice day. I have been reading a lot about the history of the Sunset and much of it includes the sand dunes. The Sunset used to be filled with these dunes and could be seen for miles and miles. It's interesting to see the difference between how the sand dunes used to be and the modern day use. Now they are used for kids to play on, sit and watch the sunset, feel the ocean breeze etc.
San Francisco is known for the vast amount of murals painted throughout the city, but the Sunset seems to never be brought up as one of the focal points. Outside of a New Orleans themed restaurant this mural was painted. It kind of showed a different part of the Sunset that I have never really seen before. There is a lot of culture in the Sunset that people over look including the small New Orleans restaurant.
These are other things that I saw on my way to the beach that I thought was interesting. A lot of the Sunset seems fairly dull to me but little to my knowledge there is a lot of vibrancy. In addition to the green building, there were vibrant blues and oranges painted along Great Highway.
The Outer Sunset is a really interesting place that I am excited to explore more of.
Civic Center 2
The first couple weeks, I primarily went to the Financial District and Civic Center areas on the weekend. It hit me quickly that the Financial District is quite boring during on the weekend. This week I went on Friday, and it made a huge difference. By 9 am, every Starbucks was packed with business men and women getting ready for their daily meetings. On Market Street, where the Financial District is primarily located, there are 12 stores that are breakfast places, five of those being Starbucks.
There is not much housing on the north side of the Financial District, but there are about 8,000 households to the south. According to the 2000 U.S. Census, there are almost 14,000 people who live in the area. The primary purpose of the area is for business, not for living. The demographics from this census show that 58 percent of the people who live there are Asian, followed by 37 percent who are white. I took these statistics with me when I went to the Financial district and found these numbers to be roughly true even though it is ten years later.
When I went back down to the Civic Center, I noticed it was a lot slower than it was on the weekends. I talked to some people on the street, and they told me it was common to be slow on the weekdays because of the slumping economy. Randall Jones, 45, said, "Ever since some of these stores closed up, it's like a graveyard during the week. The weekends are only busy because of tourists, but usually they see this area and leave for Union Square."
The pinnacle of the Civic Center is the City Hall area. Home to all of the big federal and state government buildings, the center is usually busy during the business day. However, once 5 pm hits, there is suddenly no one there unless there is a meeting of some sort.
Almost 29,000 people live in the Civic Center area, which is north and slightly to the east of city hall. According to the 2000 census, which is the most recent data available, white people made up 46 percent of the population, followed by Asians at 25 percent, and African Americans with 16 percent. On my most recent trip to the area, I feel these statistics are incorrect. Based on my observations, I feel African Americans have passed Asians, but that is based on what I saw on the streets. Some of those people could have been visitors from out of state or simply do not live in the area.
Church Fair and GG Heights
This week I did something I had not done since my early childhood: I attended a church fair. St. Anne's Church of the Sunset at Judah and Funston was holding their annual parish festival, which lasted all weekend from Friday to Sunday. The festival had all sorts of attractions throughout the weekend, from bingo and exercise groups, to ballet and piano performances. The weekend could not have called for better weather! I took the bus and walked a couple blocks from Lincoln Way, where I could see the church from the street. The architecture of the church was gorgeous and reminded me of some of the bigger churches in Southern California, which I wasn't used to seeing in the Sunset.
As soon as I walked in, the smell of a traditional pancake breakfast hit me like a brick wall and I was smitten. I attended on Sunday, where I actually played a game of Valentine's Day bingo, and sadly ended up losing. I never would have thought that bingo was a sport that actually involved any kind of skill until I saw these people play... Or maybe, like many other competitive challenges, I was just destined to lose. I talked to one of the festival organizers, Fanny Szeto, who was reluctant to say anything negative about the Sunset, and really would only tell me how happy she was with the outcome of this year's event.
Earlier in the week I checked out what is an extension of Golden Gate Heights around 14th and Ortega. Completely stunning. This park practically overlooks the entire Sunset and offers an escape from what is otherwise a concrete district. The staircase leading up to it is decorated by hand, with small remnants of mirror reflecting the day's weather, catching one's eye from afar. This week, I plan to attend the 'Sunset Quality of Life Forum' with the new police chief (Gascon) to try to get more of an understanding of what people in this community truly care about.
Marina Mockery
Every time I’m in the Marina, I feel at home.
I should explain. I’m from Santa Barbara, Ca. It’s a beautiful ocean-side playground for rich ex-hippies and trendy young people. My experiences in the Marina are quite reminiscent of my days at home.
Both locales sit right on the beach. Each has its signature coastal drive –Marina Blvd. for the Marina, Cabrillo Rd. for Santa Barbara. Both places have a single street where most of the restaurants and bars are located. A walk down Chestnut for me is eerily similar to a stroll down State St.
The places are alike in terms of demographics. Both are predominantly white, though surrounded neighboring areas of high minority concentration. Each his made up of a large population of families with solid community of college-aged singles that takes over after dark.
Statistics on paper don’t really do justice to the resemblance between the Marina and Santa Barbara. What really stirs up the nostalgia in me is more intangible. There’s just an indefinable air that hangs in these two places. I can almost smell an odd combination of self-satisfaction and insecurity.
I know the people in Santa Barbara to be a strange bunch. They live in a culture that necessitates material affirmations of success- huge house, great clothes, beautiful partners- but there is also a liberal sensibility that makes them appear ashamed of their opulence. Their former hippy beliefs make them uncomfortable with the Stepford they’ve created so the try to inject culture into their live in whatever way they can, as long as it doesn’t interrupt their hard-earned social class. It’s a hilarious dance between comfort and culture.
This is what I see in the Marina as well. From the Zin Festival at Fort Mason, to the high level of foodies per-capita, to excessively ethnic events like Siberian throat singing. It’s all a compensation for a lack of real culture. Marina residents know that they’ve chosen security over diversity. They try to make up for it by seeing Rent (watching a play about poor people is like meeting real poor people, right?) These are my people. I am one of them.
Readers may notice that I have a lot of critical things to say about the Marina, but I kid because I love. Santa Barbara is my favorite city in the world. I mock the Marina because I’m really mocking myself. I am a child of a Marina-like culture, so I have license for criticism that most don’t. Time in the Marina shines a lens on my own upbringing. It’s like Jewish people making cheap jokes or black people using the N-word. You claim negativity in order to make it part of who you are.
One of my personality quirks is that I make fun of those I like. The amount of playful ridicule I give is directly proportional to the amount of genuine affection I have. Under these criteria, the Marina should be flattered.
U.S Census Info For the Marina
Fort Mason Events
Marina Map
I should explain. I’m from Santa Barbara, Ca. It’s a beautiful ocean-side playground for rich ex-hippies and trendy young people. My experiences in the Marina are quite reminiscent of my days at home.
Both locales sit right on the beach. Each has its signature coastal drive –Marina Blvd. for the Marina, Cabrillo Rd. for Santa Barbara. Both places have a single street where most of the restaurants and bars are located. A walk down Chestnut for me is eerily similar to a stroll down State St.
The places are alike in terms of demographics. Both are predominantly white, though surrounded neighboring areas of high minority concentration. Each his made up of a large population of families with solid community of college-aged singles that takes over after dark.
Statistics on paper don’t really do justice to the resemblance between the Marina and Santa Barbara. What really stirs up the nostalgia in me is more intangible. There’s just an indefinable air that hangs in these two places. I can almost smell an odd combination of self-satisfaction and insecurity.
I know the people in Santa Barbara to be a strange bunch. They live in a culture that necessitates material affirmations of success- huge house, great clothes, beautiful partners- but there is also a liberal sensibility that makes them appear ashamed of their opulence. Their former hippy beliefs make them uncomfortable with the Stepford they’ve created so the try to inject culture into their live in whatever way they can, as long as it doesn’t interrupt their hard-earned social class. It’s a hilarious dance between comfort and culture.
This is what I see in the Marina as well. From the Zin Festival at Fort Mason, to the high level of foodies per-capita, to excessively ethnic events like Siberian throat singing. It’s all a compensation for a lack of real culture. Marina residents know that they’ve chosen security over diversity. They try to make up for it by seeing Rent (watching a play about poor people is like meeting real poor people, right?) These are my people. I am one of them.
Readers may notice that I have a lot of critical things to say about the Marina, but I kid because I love. Santa Barbara is my favorite city in the world. I mock the Marina because I’m really mocking myself. I am a child of a Marina-like culture, so I have license for criticism that most don’t. Time in the Marina shines a lens on my own upbringing. It’s like Jewish people making cheap jokes or black people using the N-word. You claim negativity in order to make it part of who you are.
One of my personality quirks is that I make fun of those I like. The amount of playful ridicule I give is directly proportional to the amount of genuine affection I have. Under these criteria, the Marina should be flattered.
U.S Census Info For the Marina
Fort Mason Events
Marina Map
Clarion Alley and ICE
Another day spent exploring Mission art. Today I went to Clarion 
Alley, home of the Clarion Alley Mural Project. Every wall was a work of art and I saw some stuff I really enjoyed.
I found a mural dedicated to Matty Luv, the lead singer of my favorite band ever: Hickey, so that was cool. I also enjoyed a delicious burrito from El Cayote on 16th Street on my way home!
Alley, home of the Clarion Alley Mural Project. Every wall was a work of art and I saw some stuff I really enjoyed.I found a mural dedicated to Matty Luv, the lead singer of my favorite band ever: Hickey, so that was cool. I also enjoyed a delicious burrito from El Cayote on 16th Street on my way home!
I really, really like the food! I’m a burrito connoisseur, so I think I’ve found the perfect part of the city for me. You can eat at places renowned for their food, like El Farolito, but you can also find hole-in-the-wall places with some of the best food I’ve ever tasted. Word up!
I love everything the Mission has going on. It’s an entire micro city within itself and, to me, that’s the most appealing
part of the area.
It’s great that I can get off Bart at 24th and hear flamenco guitar and Spanish vocals, then go up a few blocks and hear a guy playing jazz clarinet, then go some place like Thrillhouse and find obscure albums I never thought I’d be able to get anywhere but online.
Considering the ethnic diversity of the Mission I guess it’s not surprising that one of the neighborhood’s biggest concerns seems to be immigration. The U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement agency, ICE, appears to be public enemy number one throughout most of the community.
Several residents have likened ICE to Nazis, barging into homes in
the middle of the night to take illegal immigrants into custody and ship them either to a jail cell or back to their native country.
ICE even has a “Shadow Wolves” unit whom use Native American tracking skills to “fight cross-border crime” in the Arizona desert.
It’s amusing that our government is employing the tactics of the same race of people whom we raped, uprooted, and more often than not murdered, as the battle plan for our fight against the people doing the same shit today, albeit less violently. Wasn’t Christopher Columbus nothing more than the border hopping wetback of his era? Americans aren’t history scholars. Come see me and Julio down by the schoolyard!
ICE will definitely be a huge part of my future in the Mission.
I love everything the Mission has going on. It’s an entire micro city within itself and, to me, that’s the most appealing
part of the area.It’s great that I can get off Bart at 24th and hear flamenco guitar and Spanish vocals, then go up a few blocks and hear a guy playing jazz clarinet, then go some place like Thrillhouse and find obscure albums I never thought I’d be able to get anywhere but online.
Considering the ethnic diversity of the Mission I guess it’s not surprising that one of the neighborhood’s biggest concerns seems to be immigration. The U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement agency, ICE, appears to be public enemy number one throughout most of the community.
Several residents have likened ICE to Nazis, barging into homes in
the middle of the night to take illegal immigrants into custody and ship them either to a jail cell or back to their native country.ICE even has a “Shadow Wolves” unit whom use Native American tracking skills to “fight cross-border crime” in the Arizona desert.
It’s amusing that our government is employing the tactics of the same race of people whom we raped, uprooted, and more often than not murdered, as the battle plan for our fight against the people doing the same shit today, albeit less violently. Wasn’t Christopher Columbus nothing more than the border hopping wetback of his era? Americans aren’t history scholars. Come see me and Julio down by the schoolyard!
ICE will definitely be a huge part of my future in the Mission.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Frankenart and Aquariums
Today I took the 31 bus line down Balboa to get to Frankenart Mart. What is Frankenart Mart? Even the owner, Leslie Henslee isn't sure. Henslee opened the mart a few years ago with her cats Zeke and Reuben (Henslee jokes that they will take over when she retires). It's a place where you can draw, paint, write, sell and trade art.
There are different themes for different months and this month is movies. Henslee encourages anyone to make a movie and the mart might screen it using the stores projector. She said that some films are so bad but make for a good laugh. The theater seating consists of four chairs in the middle of the room, two of them were already occupied by Zeke and Reuben.
Cam Thornley visits the mart on a weekly bases and refers to himself as a Frankenart fan/ artist. He said he passed by the store a few years ago and had to check it out when he saw a "crazy woman dancing with her cats in the window."
Cam Thornley visits the mart on a weekly bases and refers to himself as a Frankenart fan/ artist. He said he passed by the store a few years ago and had to check it out when he saw a "crazy woman dancing with her cats in the window."
Once a month, Henslee sets a date and gives away free hot dogs to anyone who visits the store. She said it's not just USF students who like to come here, it's a place where all types of hungry San Franciscans show up and hang out.
You can't let the smell of the 6th Avenue Aquarium and Flowers, located on Clement Street between Sixth and Fifth avenues, turn you away because it is now one of my favorite shops.The front of the store looks like a typical florist, but located in the back are aquariums full of salt water creatures such as eels, sting rays, and sand sharks which can be purchased for $299.99. I had so much fun walking around, but had to breathe through my mouth.
You can't let the smell of the 6th Avenue Aquarium and Flowers, located on Clement Street between Sixth and Fifth avenues, turn you away because it is now one of my favorite shops.The front of the store looks like a typical florist, but located in the back are aquariums full of salt water creatures such as eels, sting rays, and sand sharks which can be purchased for $299.99. I had so much fun walking around, but had to breathe through my mouth.
"A Ride on the Ghetto Tour"
I received an official tour today of Bayview Hunter's Point from a local. Larry Tiller, history major and recreation director at the Joseph Lee Recreation Center on Oakdale, drove me around to show me the area on what he called "the ghetto tour."
BVHP is definitely like a city within a city. There was Project Housing across the street from brand new condos across the street from homeowners. There was this segregation within close quarters.
There were mostly industrial businesses and residential housings throughout the area. One thing that stuck out in my mind was seeing a PG&E power plant not even 200 feet away from residential housing. My mind immediately flashed to reading about all the health problems that BVHP residents suffer.
Also to my amazement, I found out that there are no hospitals within the district, no clubs, a few neighborhood bars, and one major grocery store - Food Co. in the entire area. There are plenty of parks and schools, but I found that there's not really much else to do.
At the risk of repeating myself in my Hood1 article, Tiller told me that there's nothing in BVHP to attract tourists or anyone else to want to visit this area. Besides Candlestick Park (which is in the process of being taken away since the 49ers want to be traded), one swimming pool, an opera house, and the little small business shops on Third Street, there's really nothing else to do. There's not much else to enjoy in the neighborhood, and I think that's where the problems start. However, I did see about 10-15 Baptist Churches in the area, as well as 8-10 liquor stores and check cashing places. Tiller joked that for every church there's a liquor store.
It wasn't hard to figure out my way around BVHP after that tour. The 101 and the 280 kind of act as the border between Bayview and Visitation Valley. It was definitely an eye-opening ride because BVHP really is like it's own little world, and I have to remind myself that I'm still in the city every time I visit.
The Historic Red Vic Movie House
The Red Victorian Movie House on Haight Street is bringing a historic and nostalgic touch to movie-going in an age where Multiplexes have dominated the industry.
Opened over 30 years ago and located in the heart of the Haight district (just down the street from Amoeba Records), The Red Vic features a refreshing balance of vintage and modern films. And instead of individual stadium-style seats, the Red Vic adds a sense of community to its viewers by having couches and long benches instead.
The movie house is also unique in that instead of greasy popcorn and candy bars, it features organic treats available for purchase during the movie.
Carol Ann Gawrych, a 20-year-old frequenter of The Red Vic, loves the unique movies featured there.
“Last August I saw The Creature From the Black Lagoon in 3D at the Red Vic,” said Gawrych. “The theater had great atmosphere and was really groovy! I’ve been going back there ever since.”
My personal favorite experience at The Red Vic was a late-night showing of Back to the Future.
This month’s featured films are a wide array of time periods and genres, including 2010’s Pirate Radio and 1971’s Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Also featured this month is 1977 Academy-award winning Woody Allen classic Annie Hall. And if you missed out on Wes Anderson’s Fantastic Mr. Fox, it will be playing for four nights at the Red Vic in March.
Admission is nine dollars except for matinee and Tuesday nights where admission is discounted to seven dollars.
If you’re in the mood for an intimate, old-fashioned movie experience that costs less than modern theaters, the Red Vic is the place to go.
Joe's Cable Car in Excelsior
There is this show on the Food Network called Diners Drive In's and Dives where Guy Fieri, a Food Network star, goes around the U.S. in search of old "mom and pop" restaurants that have been around long enough to make a name for themselves. In one of the episodes, Fieri visits San Francisco where he goes to Joe's Cable Car. I love burgers and fries and when I found out this place was in the Excelsior, I just couldn't wait to go. On Thursday, after work, my friend and I took the 54 down Mission and got off on Silver where the burger joint is. The place was lit up brighter than the street lights and the conversations could be heard out the door. There was a long wait, but when the food came, it was totally worth it. The people eating at Joe's seemed to be people that have been going there for quite some time. I asked one of the employees what kind of people come here and she said that most were people from outside of the Excelsior that had heard about the place. Others were regulars that have religiously been going for years.
After dinner, we walked around Mission so I could see the Excelsior for the first time at night. I noticed most places were closed at an early time. There were a couple local bars opened but we were too stuffed to get a drink. It did not seem as dangerous as it has been stereotyped. I must admit, I was skeptical about being around the district at that time of day, but I did not want to have a perspective based on opinion. I'm glad I decided to go and check it out for myself.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
The Omnicircus
So we've all heard it, gentrification gentrification gentrification.
It's hitting the city and in a big way, and while non-profits are rallying together not much seems to be changing.
Walking through the rougher parts of my neighborhood, on the side alley of Natoma and Russ I found this wagon wheel with "The OmniCircus" in red and silver letters.
"Just take a look around at everything and your questions will be much more focused," Frank Garvey told me before our interview began.
Which meant stepping over wires, and behind musical instruments, and not yet animate robots. The walls were adorned with Garvey's paintings from the 1980's which began the whole live art project.
The smell of the welded robots and settled dust overwhelmed. Yes. Overwhelmed. Overwhelmed at the OmniCircus.
The paintings have a message as you pass along the walls: "In the 20th century Friday is payday;that nite people get the feeding frenzy... and the whole damn family gets lost on their vacation like the children's crusade because when preachers talk Apocalypse they lie- the poor see Hell on Earth before they die and so the sign above the tollway says 'to each his own,' proof positive that the survivors go through an orgy of doubt and the band goes out for a hamburger because."
The anthem of the city written 30 years ago.
But neighbors, who don't appreciate the dress rehearsals and the crowds in the alley on the second Friday of the month, have began to complain.
After the third building inspection, Garvey has little hope the OmniCircus will have another performance.
"I have no problem with codes," he said. "But they're being enforced selectively to get us out of here."
And he continues to get anonymous hate spam online, hoping to put an end to his 30 year long production.
I couldn't find anybody on the other side, but my own biases set me at the epicenter of the save local art scene.
BONE CHILLING. What else will happen? Next interview coming soon.
It's hitting the city and in a big way, and while non-profits are rallying together not much seems to be changing.
Walking through the rougher parts of my neighborhood, on the side alley of Natoma and Russ I found this wagon wheel with "The OmniCircus" in red and silver letters.
"Just take a look around at everything and your questions will be much more focused," Frank Garvey told me before our interview began.
Which meant stepping over wires, and behind musical instruments, and not yet animate robots. The walls were adorned with Garvey's paintings from the 1980's which began the whole live art project.
The smell of the welded robots and settled dust overwhelmed. Yes. Overwhelmed. Overwhelmed at the OmniCircus.
The paintings have a message as you pass along the walls: "In the 20th century Friday is payday;that nite people get the feeding frenzy... and the whole damn family gets lost on their vacation like the children's crusade because when preachers talk Apocalypse they lie- the poor see Hell on Earth before they die and so the sign above the tollway says 'to each his own,' proof positive that the survivors go through an orgy of doubt and the band goes out for a hamburger because."
The anthem of the city written 30 years ago.
But neighbors, who don't appreciate the dress rehearsals and the crowds in the alley on the second Friday of the month, have began to complain.
After the third building inspection, Garvey has little hope the OmniCircus will have another performance.
"I have no problem with codes," he said. "But they're being enforced selectively to get us out of here."
And he continues to get anonymous hate spam online, hoping to put an end to his 30 year long production.
I couldn't find anybody on the other side, but my own biases set me at the epicenter of the save local art scene.
BONE CHILLING. What else will happen? Next interview coming soon.
Nature at the top
My favorite thing about Bernal Heights is the great view. It's quite a hike up, or you can catch the 67 from the Mission and it drops you off on the least steep side.
Once you reach the peak of the hill there are other people, most with smiling faces, hiking around, usually with a dog dashing ahead.
You can walk around the microwave tower at the top and, on a clear day, enjoy a view of the Mission and downtown, Noe Valley, Excelsior and beyond, and even across the bay as far back as the Oakland hills.
It is a great place to go meditate, read a book, get some exercise, or just simply appreciate the beauty of the bay.
"This is such a great view, it really gives me a good sense of the city. It's like Portland, but more condensed," Grey Larsell, on vacation from Eugene, Oregon said.
Something else amazing about being at the top of the hill is the incredible wildlife that lives down its sides. There are a variety of raptors, skunks, opossums, and occasionally a coyote. Information found at SFNAP
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Sunset
I have always had a fairly negative outlook on the Sunset until I actually went and spent some time there. I chose to cover the Sunset because I know that there are cool places to go to but have never had the motivation to go. Living on the other side of the park, I have created a comfortable bubble in the Richmond and never felt it necessary to really explore the other side.
The Outer Sunset, the place I hated the most, is actually a really cool place. The houses along the beach are really interesting and remind me of what a normal "beach town" looks like. I never really thought to give it a chance due to the endless amounts of fog that rolls through. There are cool surf stores that I feel come straight out of the movies and cafes that are scattered throughout the endless amounts of blocks that make up the Sunset.
The Inner Sunset is also a vibrant place. It's much more commercial then the Outer Sunset. On Irving Street between 7th and 11th stores line the streets (Coffee shops, cafe's, bars, boutiques etc.). There is a huge difference though between Inner and Outer. I felt like a lot more early families were pushing their strollers and walking the family dog in the Inner Sunset, and more established and larger families live in the Outer due to bigger houses.
While I was walking, there was an old war veteran who seemed to be a regular at Holy Gelato. He waited patiently for a cup of coffee that he did not even need to order because John, the man behind the counter already knew exactly how to make it. He paid and went on his way. As soon as he walked outside, to my surprise, he began asking many of the other people walking on the sidewalk for change. Then a woman in her 60s stopped and without hesitation began screaming at him. "You probably have more money then me right now! You must be crazy! If you have not realized, it's recession! Nobody has money. So how dare you have the audacity to ask me for change!" He looked at her blankly and she just walked away casually as if nothing happened. As I kept my distance and observed, I was so surprsied to be watching this. The Sunset is the last place in San Francisco I expected to see that.
All in all, my first visit has really changed my views about this neighborhood and I am looking forward to covering it for the next few months.
The Outer Sunset, the place I hated the most, is actually a really cool place. The houses along the beach are really interesting and remind me of what a normal "beach town" looks like. I never really thought to give it a chance due to the endless amounts of fog that rolls through. There are cool surf stores that I feel come straight out of the movies and cafes that are scattered throughout the endless amounts of blocks that make up the Sunset.
The Inner Sunset is also a vibrant place. It's much more commercial then the Outer Sunset. On Irving Street between 7th and 11th stores line the streets (Coffee shops, cafe's, bars, boutiques etc.). There is a huge difference though between Inner and Outer. I felt like a lot more early families were pushing their strollers and walking the family dog in the Inner Sunset, and more established and larger families live in the Outer due to bigger houses.
While I was walking, there was an old war veteran who seemed to be a regular at Holy Gelato. He waited patiently for a cup of coffee that he did not even need to order because John, the man behind the counter already knew exactly how to make it. He paid and went on his way. As soon as he walked outside, to my surprise, he began asking many of the other people walking on the sidewalk for change. Then a woman in her 60s stopped and without hesitation began screaming at him. "You probably have more money then me right now! You must be crazy! If you have not realized, it's recession! Nobody has money. So how dare you have the audacity to ask me for change!" He looked at her blankly and she just walked away casually as if nothing happened. As I kept my distance and observed, I was so surprsied to be watching this. The Sunset is the last place in San Francisco I expected to see that.
All in all, my first visit has really changed my views about this neighborhood and I am looking forward to covering it for the next few months.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Introductions in the Sunset
I anticipated visiting my neighborhood for the first time (the Sunset District), which I think is because I did not quite know what to expect. I knew it was largely residential, but that was about it. So, like any other time I needed to familiarize myself with an area, I set out with my skateboard and my camera to explore. I found the district to be really elegant in its design; it does a fantastic job with connecting San Francisco the city to the Pacific Ocean.
I was just moseying around, and I noticed how many people walking their dogs were out, as well as the abundance of dog parks throughout some of the neighborhoods. I walked into a pet store called Osso & Co. on 9th Avenue and asked about pet owners in the area, and if there were an unusual amount of them and what their attitudes toward the community were, but I ended up getting very generic and dry answers. The gentleman was a little preoccupied when I first came in so he seemed a bit reluctant to talk. The first commercial district I stopped was Irving and 9th Avenue, where I checked out some of the shops and restaurants, and (accidentally) stumbled upon the Craigslist headquarters, which I knew was in the area, but did not know exactly where.
I then skated down Lincoln from the Inner to Outer Sunset, and got a burrito from a really great Mexican food place called La Playa Taqueria. After eating and speaking briefly with the woman behind the counter - I found out about the San Francisco Conservatory of Music, which moved locations, and citizens are in a debate over what to use the old building for - I headed down to the beach to see if I could interview anyone down there. I stumbled upon a pretty surprising/amusing scene when the a violent wind nearly blew a woman’s stroller with a child inside down the sidewalk. I watched the event unfold without interfering (even though I would have had I felt the toddler was in any sort of real danger – is that bad journalism?). I spoke to the woman after and ended up using her as an anectdotal lead for my STREET1 story. Overall, I found my neighborhood to be quaint in nature, and extremely peaceful. The majority of its community members seem interested in bettering the community in any way possible.
Later in the week I attended the first annual Inner Sunset Town Hall meeting, where I talked to some concerned citizens about issues that matter to them in their community. Everyone there was willing to talk to me, even if they were just giving me cut-and-dry answers.
A Day In the Life of the Happily Homeless
It’s about 2:30 in the afternoon. In the distance a young man is walking towards me with a big smile on his face. At first glance, it wouldn’t have been noticeable that this bright-eyed, wide smiling kid was living on the street. What gave it away was his tousled hair that probably hadn’t been washed in weeks, and the fact that he kept bending down to pick up half-smoked cigarettes to light up.
Such was the beginning of my journey with Steven Floyd. The 28-year-old Oceanside native has been happily choosing to live a homeless life on Haight Street for the past three months.
As soon as he sees me he dives into a long story about his mushroom tripping from the night before.
After grabbing some coffee at The People’s Café, local hangout of both young and old homeless people on Haight Street, we begin our stroll through of San Francisco’s drug Mecca.
Along the way, Steven points out to me where he spends most of his time. In front of cafés, relaxing on Hippie Hill, or getting free food from a small place on Haight Street that hands out free microwaveable meals to anyone who wants one.
We find a bench and I begin to ask him about his life. He happily chooses this life, saying it’s the most rewarding thing he’s ever done.
“There’s good days and bad days,” says Floyd. “But then again, doesn’t everyone have good days and bad days?”
A cop walks past us and I notice a slight sneer on Floyd’s face. I question him if he has something against all cops, and he replies no, just certain ones.
“Some cops never hassle you. They can actually be very nice,” explains Floyd. “But there are a certain few who will give you tickets for the most ridiculous things.”
A few days prior, when we first met, Floyd had just been given a ticket for loitering.
“The cop asked me what I was doing, and I told him I was just sitting,” said Floyd. “Then he just wrote me a ticket.”
We finish our coffee and exchange a few words before parting. By this time the sun has nearly set on Haight Street, but the street is far from empty. Steven Floyd, my new homeless friend, has wandered away to find a freeway overpass to sleep under.
The Tenderloin
The Tenderloin: The tourists avoid it, the locals love it, and the liquor shop owners sweep the homeless from their doorways.
When I got off at the Powell Street BART station I thought to myself, "There is a recession going on?" They parade of shoppers and tourists waiting for a ride on the cable car seemed endless. Until, I crossed the street and walked just two short blocks to the corner of Turk and Ellis, arguably the base of one of San Francisco's most notorious and dangerous neighborhoods.
Five years ago, I had a friend who worked the graveyard shift at the Harcourt, a hotel in the heart of the Tenderloin, on Larkin and Sutter. That was where my interest in this neighborhood was peaked. I saw prostitutes and their johns try and hustle my friend out of time in a room, saw undercover police hide in the shadows of the downstairs lobby, and met and heard some of the most interesting people and things inside that one hotel.
The impression that I got from my first day back in the Tenderloin, was very different from the one I had years ago. I went to a 9 a.m. Sunday church service at Glide Memorial Methodist Church and was struck at the composition not only of the people in attendance, but the service as well. This was not like the Catholic church services my grandmother used to drag me to. Instead it was a "celebration" where people of Jewish, Muslim, among other religions all came together.
I went expecting to feel oppressed because of my lack of recognized faith and left feeling like the people there were doing something to help the Tenderloin community. I signed up to serve breakfast on Friday to the community, and am hopeful it will expose me to more good resources in my neighborhood. I also think this will be one of the best ways to talk to people who might be homeless, instead of approaching them on the street which can be dangerous... as I've learned.
In the "worst" parts most of the buildings, cars and people look rundown, unwashed, and uncared for, and everything takes of a grey drab tone. I was approached by four people on one block asking for money before 9 a.m. on a Sunday. Some shaking, visible with signs of their addiction.
In sum, some horror stories are true, I did see people abusing drugs, lying passed out on the street, but I also saw a community come together to recognize the crisis going on around them.
I'm covering a tough neighborhood, but there are gems underneath these trodden streets, I can feel them. Perhaps I will find them in the used book stores on Polk, or the countless corner sandwich shops, which I will swallow along with my pride as I refuse to think about the health and sanitary codes adopted by some of these establishments.
North Beach
The first two times I went to North Beach for class, I took the bus to Union and Columbus and then walked to St. Peter and Paul Church on Filbert Street. I went out to Washington Square out front, and I thought how it was cute how this giant patch of lawn was actually fairly small, and that this little park was perfect for a small and crowded city like San Francisco. Being from San Jose, which is much more spread out on the land, I’m used to seeing huge parks. I had a Google map with me and I highlighted all the important streets so I wouldn’t get lost. But the neighborhood is not as big as I thought it would be, and fairly easy to maneuver around. I drive, but I only drove to the Daly City Bart Station and took the train to Montgomery. It cost $5.90 roundtrip. I didn’t feel like driving around and parking.
The third time I went to my beat, I took the Bart and skipped the bus, and took the long way into my neighborhood by going down Embarcadero long the north eastern shore of San Francisco where the piers are. From there I got a lovely front view of the houses on Telegraph Hill and Coit Tower, and the Bay Bridge. Telegraph Hill is the perfect spot to see both the Bay Bridge and Golden Gate Bridge.
The pier has a lot going on. Residents and tourists alike seem to enjoy walking there. Hopefully the entertainers along Fisherman’s Wharf have steady jobs or make enough from the tourists to get by. I wonder how people are traveling these days?
North Beach has a lot going on, but it’s relatively and quietly pleasant. Once you get to Broadway, things get flashy and noisy. That’s where Condor and Showgirls is located. There was a drive-by shooting on Broadway following Saturday night at 1:00 a.m. Sunday. I guess the businesses attracted the shady folks. The Brass Rail, a bikini bar, in Sunnyvale also had a drive-by shooting out front not too long ago.
Someone asked me, isn’t that a bad neighborhood?
I think that there are going to be crimes, like the rest of the city, especially in densely populated areas where the chances are more probable. But don’t let that put a damper on your fun. The rest of North Beach is good for families and most people aren’t too young or too old. They’re in their 20s, 30s, 40s, and 50s,
I’d like to try all their restaurants and see all the shops. Seeing all the people with their dogs made me wish I had one too.
My day in the Richmond
What I first notice about the Richmond, is how clean it is. I feel safe walking around by myself and can relax and enjoy the views of downtown. It is very residential, but not as flat as the Sunset and most people look like they work or live here. There aren't many tourists. I take Muni to get around, the 38 seems to work the best, and I can even take it all the way downtown. There are many restaurants on Geary that look fun and authentic. Shops that I can't pronounce the name, and look like they sale items you would find in a garage sale, are located on Geary and Clement.
Over on Balboa, between 37th and 38th Avenue, is the Balboa theater, which was built in 1926. Currently, three movies are being shown: The Last Station, Invictus and The Hurt Locker. For an older theater you might think the movies will be cheaper right? Well they're not. It's 9 dollars general admission, or $6.50 for a matinee and free if it's your birthday. You can check out their website at http://balboamovies.com/.
After a movie you can walk a couple blocks to Simple Pleasures Cafe, which is located between 35th and 36th Avenue. There is outside seating that has already been filled by younger looking individuals, most of them drinking pints of beer instead of coffee. I was little intimidated by all the people who looked like the "regulars" that I didn't go in, next time I'll have to bring a friend to try it with me.
Hayes Valley Makes Me Eat
My caloric intake in this past week has had to increase at least 125 percent. Covering Hayes Valley has proven to be difficult for me only because I spend a large amount of my time eating the incredible food the neighborhood has to offer. One of the first observations I had walking around the neighborhood was that every window seemed to be littered with Zagat ratings. I absolutely hate spending money when eating out but I decided I should try one of the popular local restaurants.
I ventured into Patxi’s Chicago Pizza on Tuesday night because I had noted that every person had recommended this supposed irresistible pizza. Being the pizza pessimist that I am, I was expecting to be disappointed and the food would not be deserving of all the hype. All local neighborhoods claim to have the best pizza place, I feel like this is just a universal.
I ordered a simple basil and olive pizza to share between a friend and I. The waitress set the pizza on the table and I didn’t understand. I have never seen a true Chicago pizza before with the globs of sauce and insanely thick crust so I was left even more skeptical. But then came that first bite.
I took that bite and immediately thought this has to be the work of the Devil. There is no way that ingredients like dough and tomatoes could make this massive concoction of deliciousness. When that pizza touched my taste buds, I created a sincere memory. It was the most flavorful beautiful pizza I have ever tasted.
The recommendations of the Hayes Valley locals really came through with Patxi’s, so I decided I should eat even more food that I can’t afford. So this time I made my boyfriend pay. We decided to try the packed restaurant Stacks on Sunday morning.
The décor at Stacks is a reason to go in itself. The walls are decorated with murals of ancient Greek women, hydrangeas, daises, and lilies hang from the ceiling, and two humungous works of pottery are placed at either end of the restaurant.
I ordered the Garden Crepe and my boyfriend, Kelly, ordered the Coconut, Banana, and Macadamia stack of pancakes. The service was quick, and understandably so, the maximum occupancy was supposedly 111 but if a Fire Marshall came into that place he would have made a lengthy complaint.
I cannot stress enough that everyone who enjoys breakfast should try to make their way to Stacks at least once in their lifetime. When Kelly began eating his pancakes, he was making this facial expression that meant the food was either incredible or contained some kind of shocking texture like cockroach shell. Those pancakes have been touched by the food Gods. “It’s honestly like my favorite cookie contained into a pancake,” Kelly said.
I realize I have just dedicated a blog to food, judge me if you will, but it was damn good. I’m not advertising when I say that if you don’t try one of the local restaurants in Hayes Valley, you cannot fully understand why its locals are so in love with their neighborhood.
I ventured into Patxi’s Chicago Pizza on Tuesday night because I had noted that every person had recommended this supposed irresistible pizza. Being the pizza pessimist that I am, I was expecting to be disappointed and the food would not be deserving of all the hype. All local neighborhoods claim to have the best pizza place, I feel like this is just a universal.
I ordered a simple basil and olive pizza to share between a friend and I. The waitress set the pizza on the table and I didn’t understand. I have never seen a true Chicago pizza before with the globs of sauce and insanely thick crust so I was left even more skeptical. But then came that first bite.
I took that bite and immediately thought this has to be the work of the Devil. There is no way that ingredients like dough and tomatoes could make this massive concoction of deliciousness. When that pizza touched my taste buds, I created a sincere memory. It was the most flavorful beautiful pizza I have ever tasted.
The recommendations of the Hayes Valley locals really came through with Patxi’s, so I decided I should eat even more food that I can’t afford. So this time I made my boyfriend pay. We decided to try the packed restaurant Stacks on Sunday morning.
The décor at Stacks is a reason to go in itself. The walls are decorated with murals of ancient Greek women, hydrangeas, daises, and lilies hang from the ceiling, and two humungous works of pottery are placed at either end of the restaurant.
I ordered the Garden Crepe and my boyfriend, Kelly, ordered the Coconut, Banana, and Macadamia stack of pancakes. The service was quick, and understandably so, the maximum occupancy was supposedly 111 but if a Fire Marshall came into that place he would have made a lengthy complaint.
I cannot stress enough that everyone who enjoys breakfast should try to make their way to Stacks at least once in their lifetime. When Kelly began eating his pancakes, he was making this facial expression that meant the food was either incredible or contained some kind of shocking texture like cockroach shell. Those pancakes have been touched by the food Gods. “It’s honestly like my favorite cookie contained into a pancake,” Kelly said.
I realize I have just dedicated a blog to food, judge me if you will, but it was damn good. I’m not advertising when I say that if you don’t try one of the local restaurants in Hayes Valley, you cannot fully understand why its locals are so in love with their neighborhood.
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