SFSUREPORTINGFALL09

Mr. Happy the Balloon Man, San Francisco 2011

2011-10-22T00:42:00.000-07:00

Here's the guy with the balloons and the bad temper. I can never decide if he's for real or in character doing street theater, but he's my favorite psycho on the bus and always good for a laugh in my book. Here he is on the 30 Stockton putting the fear in the guy next to him. He'd just moved up from the very back where he'd been shouting "You STINK!!" at the person next to him... I love the look of real fear in his seatmate's eyes. Very convincing. So, yes kids, there really is a balloon man with explosive disorder, now you know. You can actually see the balloons in spite of my slow cameara work in the first pic; in the second he'd just slam-dunked the balloons through the bus window...I just love this guy and want to make him a big cup of coffee some day!!

What I Learned About Myself and my Neighborhood

2009-12-24T01:18:00.001-08:00

What I learned about myself in this class is that sometimes I really have to force myself to be engaged in whatever it is I am supposed to be doing because if I am disconnected with my reporting at all, it completely shows in my writing. I also learned that reporting is a very multilayered profession that requires competence in many different aspects of writing such as how to make a story flow or how to describe different scenes or people in a manner that transports the reader from the page to the actual visual scene.

I also learned that I still have a ways to go before I actually can go out in the world and do this completely on my own but that it’s still okay because the more I try to grasp the strengths I have and let go of my weaknesses, then the better I really do get. I am still grappling with if I can pull reporting off but I am confidant then I will get the true gist of it soon, with a little bit more practice. I did like how challenging and engaging this course was and how I had to really push myself to do the assignments in a way that I can actually be proud to have written them. I do wish that the awkwardness of interviewing strangers will dispel with some time and practice, too. My favorite part of the course, no doubt, was definitely the more creative aspect of reporting where you can submerge yourself with details and descriptions and I hope to continue to do that in my future stories.

I learned many things about my neighborhood this semester. It was especially interesting for me because I was reporting on two different neighborhoods all semester, which was the Fillmore and Pacific Heights. I did have some trouble because I tried really hard to not seem more inclined to report on one but not enough the other. However, it was extremely interesting to see the infinite differences between the two neighborhood and how economically, socially, and racially, these two neighborhoods have so much division and exclusion from each other.

Despite the difficulties, it was amazing for me to see and hear about how rich these two neighborhoods are. The Fillmore being so rich in culture while Pacific Heights being so rich in money. I thoroughly enjoyed both of the neighborhoods and felt that even though things there don’t always seem so great, especially with each other, it is undeniable what alluring aspects both neighborhoods have on me and others. They both are definite enclaves of San Francisco and will continue to be that. It will be exciting and interesting too see how time will change these neighborhoods from what they were, to how they are, to what they will be.

Final Story Hayes Valley

2009-12-17T00:00:00.000-08:00

Crowds of people stand huddled together listening to the holiday tunes coming from the portable stage set up at Patricia’s Green for the 6^th Annual Hayes Valley Block Part. The crowds bundled up in multiple layers of clothing hold hot beverages to keep themselves warm in the piercing cold Friday night.

As Hayes Valley residents watch the main stage the shows producer Joseph Jody stands off stage in his red sequenced Santa hat, Dalmatian spotted jacket, and a feather boa wrapped around his neck. His two dachshunds, Guido and Vinnie, sit in a red Little Red Flyer next to him. Jody looks at the dogs then his clipboard for the next act.

“Where’s the choir?” Jody asks frantically with a slight New York accent.

Jody, a resident of Hayes Valley for 15 years, witnessed the neighborhoods transformation from the seedy side of town to a thriving neighborhood.

“It was depressing,” Jody said, “there were no stores and a lot of buildings were boarded up.”

In 1959 San Francisco used federal money to renovate the cities highways and built the Central Freeway. The freeway cast a shadow over Hayes Valley. The streets were littered with the homeless and prostitutes would prowl around the neighborhood looking for their next customer.

In 1989 the Loma Prieta earthquake severally damaged the Central Freeway overpass in Hayes Valley, which led to its demolition and the creation of Octavia Boulevard in 2005.

The Mayor of Hayes Valley, David Cook, stands against a mailbox guitar strapped to his back. His glazed eyes fixed upon the stage.

“Five years ago you would’ve been robbed on this street,” said Cook.

The 400 block of Hayes Street has been home to Cook for over 14 years. He can be found sitting against the same chain link fence on the same blue milk crate with the same makeshift fishing pole with a cup reading “Gone Fishing” as the hook.

Although Cook has stayed in the same place the area around him has morphed from empty storefronts to chique clothing boutiques and restaurants.

Groups of people patrol up and down Hayes Street with drinks ranging from Pabst Blue Ribbon to hot chocolate in hand. Waves of residents and visitors flow in and out of the many clothing and shoe stores during the 6^th annual block party.

“I’m still surprised to walk pass all the stores,” said Mary Baird lifetime San Francisco resident.

At nine the stores start to close, and the crowded streets start to open. The block party is over, but the over 21-crowd move into the couch filled bar, Place Pigalle. Former resident Nico Deliveyne aims his pool stick carefully, and shoots at one of the many solids left on the table. He misses.

“Everybody within a two-block radius you can consider your family,” says Deliveyne’s girlfriend Laura Pucci as she aims for the only striped ball left on the table. “It’s the best secret spot you can stumble into.”

Many Hayes Valley residents agree that since Caltrans tore down the overpass the neighborhood flourished and became a thriving community.

To further develop the neighborhood a proposed interim community garden will fill an empty lot between Oak St., Fell St., Laguna St., and Octavia Blvd. One of the main goals of the project is to serve as a model and resource center for urban agriculture education and green job training, according to the Hayes Valley Neighborhood Association.

Over the next few years the empty lots left from the old overpass will be filled with new multi-unit housing complexes. One planned complex will be affordable housing for disabled individuals and their families. The ground floor of the proposed 15-unit complex would contain space for businesses including a firm for the Nor Cal Vocational Inc. NCVI specializes in providing developmental disabled adults with the opportunity to use art as a vehicle for developing skills. Construction is dated to start next fall, according to Curbed SF.

The destruction of the old Central Freeway overpass led to the resurgence Hayes Valley. With the proposed community garden and multiple housing complexes Hayes Valley will continue to grow. Soon the only remnants of Hayes Valley’s past will be the homeless that still wander around the neighborhood asking for change, collecting cans, or just sitting on a milk crate playing a guitar.

Final Story: Fighting Prop 8 from the Personal to the Professional

2009-12-16T17:17:00.000-08:00

It was beginning to look a lot like Christmas in Frank and Joe Capley- Alfano’s apartment, where boxes full of Christmas decorations were waiting to be strung up around the apartment. That wasn’t the only thing that filled the apartment- excitement, as well as champagne, filled glasses as the two plus their roommate toasted. “It’s a win for the community,” Joe Capley-Alfano said. The victory he was referring to was that, after five years of fighting his husband's labor union, Joe Capley-Alfano now has healthcare. Why the delay? Their married relationship status.

Once Prop 8 passed in the November 2008 election, it seemed that the issue of marriage equality dropped off the political radar. Just because the bill was passed, however, does not mean the fight was over. Groups such as One Struggle, One Fight, and the International Socialist Organization have been doing their part to help raise awareness and support for equality, which recently has taken place in the Castro.

Proposition 8 is cited as the “California Marriage Protection Act”, stating that only marriage between a man and a woman is valid in California. San Francisco issued marriage licenses to same sex couples on Feb. 12, 2004, and, almost 4,000 marriages later, ceased on Mar. 12, 2004 after the California Supreme Court ordered San Francisco officials to stop producing marriage licenses to same sex couples. On Jun. 2, 2008, Proposition 8 qualified for the November 2008 election ballot.

“We stood in line in two and a half, three days in the rain,” Frank Capley-Alfano said. Before he went on Capley-Alfano chimed in smiling, “it was the best three days ever.” The two got married back in 2004 during the Winter of Love when Gavin Newsom allowed gay marriage in San Francisco. “That kind of love was erupting through the city,” Capley-Alfano said. They married at 3:34 in the afternoon on Feb. 17, 2004. Once the California Supreme Court lifted the ban on gay marriage in 2008, the two were one of the first couples to set a date. Both being big on tradition, they got married in the exact spot where they said their “I do’s” back in 2004.

After their marriage, Joe and Frank Capley- Alfano became very active in their community, as well as the state, in rallying up support against Prop 8 by telling their story. It was at this point in time when the two met with the people of One Struggle, One Fight.

Capley- Alfano attended a meeting in San Francisco about grassroots organizing that people were working on to fight against the newly passed Prop 8. “I remember a lot of blame going on and lots of finger pointing and also lots of grand standing,” Capley-Alfano said. During the meeting he noticed Kip Williams. “[Kip] was talking about moving forward and intersections in the communities and building allies outside the LGBT community all these sort of ideas that really were refreshing,” Capley-Alfano said. Capley-Alfano especially liked the idea of direct action and taking the movement back to the streets and the effectiveness of grassroots organizing. They exchanged numbers and started organizing the six day march to Sacramento.

Along with Williams, Flik Huang was one of the founders of the group One Struggle, One Fight. Huang explained that OSOF “work[s] with many different organizations, on a local, state-wide and national level. We have close ties with the labor community, a bond which goes back in the LGBT community as far as Harvey Milk's time. We strive to build coalitions with as many different and progressive groups as possible, for we believe that our struggles are fights for human and civil rights, rather than separate issues [labor, LGBT, immigration, health care]. Hence our name, which comes from an LGBT rights chant from the 70's: "gay, straight, black, white: one struggle, one fight."

Huang remembered how she felt when she heard that Prop 8 Passed. “The next day I cried for a long time. I'd never believed it could pass; who on earth votes to revoke other people's rights? How is that even remotely legal? And felt blindsided and horrified that this had been allowed to take place. I could feel very deeply my friend's - and the LGBT community's - pain and anger, and I had to do something,” she said.

Although a fairly new group, OSOF has become a force with organizing for marriage equality as well as other human rights causes. “In under a year we became one of the most active and recognized grassroots groups in [Northern California], and within the LGBT grassroots community we have a lot of supporters nationally. It's been an arduous, breakneck, often painful and excruciatingly difficult journey, but worth it in so many ways for all we've accomplished and everyone our work [has] had an effect on,” Huang said.

Both the OSOF and International Socialist Organization have done events in the Castro. “Although we often are criticized for ‘preaching to the choir,’ it must be pointed out that many of those who live in and frequent the Castro district, though supportive of our goals, are complacent or indifferent to actually participating in even the most basic ways. We are hoping that our presence in the Castro can help to motivate and mobilize members of our very own community who at the moment are often not even aware that their rights are threatened or what they can do about it,” Huang said.

Recently OSOF, with the help of the ISO and Equality California, held a rally on Nov. 4 at Harvey Milk Plaza noting the one year anniversary of the passing of Prop 8. The night started out with various speakers from each organization, as well as members from the public, talking about how Prop 8 has affected their lives.

“All of us working on the event thought the Castro and specifically Harvey Milk Plaza would be the best place for it. It has significance for the LGBT community and we wanted to draw folks in from off the street who would have common cause,” ISO member Ashley Simmons said about the Nov. 4 rally. “I don't think the Castro is by any means the only place to be having LGBT rallies,” adding, “I think for the political moment it was the appropriate place although OSOF has planned, with many ISO comrades taking part, many actions in the Castro.”

“Whenever we get attacked, we meet at Harvey Milk Plaza,” Capley-Alfano said. Frank Capley-Alfano added, “Historically it has always been a place for community.” He continued to explain that it’s a great common spot to meet and organize, but, depending on the situation, it would be very beneficial to move the protests elsewhere to draw attention to instead of just staying in the Castro.

Capley-Alfano suggested that a creative way to do this is through flash-mobs. The idea of the flash-mob originated on the internet but basically it’s setting a time and event online and on a certain day and people come together for whatever cause it may be- even silly ones like no pants days. Capley-Alfano mentioned that a good example of this would be something called Guerilla Queer Bars; it’s when a group of LGBT members would go to relatively straight bars at a certain time and interact with them showing the patrons that gay people aren’t very different than they are.

Now, this is not to say that the efforts in the Castro have been in vain. “It’s hard to engage people who have politically been beaten down so many times… that they just want to have fun,” Capley-Alfano said, and added that “in terms of engaging our community we need to start being creative.”

Another supporter of marriage equality who has been documenting the various movements is photographer Geoff King. Since the passing of Proposition 8, King has documented various events and rallies in the Bay Area that have taken place since then. He plans on bringing the various images and stories together in a book called “Such a Bittersweet Day”.

King has grown up in the Bay Area. His parents met in San Francisco in the 70s and told him about San Francisco Mayor George Moscone and Supervisor Harvey Milk at an early age. He grew up with the understanding of San Francisco’s colorful past that got him interested in documenting the aftermath of Prop 8. He has been photographing various protests and other human rights events since the Iraq War started.

While attending a candle lit vigil on November 5, the day after the election, King overheard someone say it was “such a bittersweet day”, a black man was voted president but gay people were denied the right to marry. “I have to document this going forward,” King said. To him, it was an important civil rights matter; although he wasn’t affected directly by Prop 8, his friends were. He said that it seemed irrational and foreign and wanted to explore the topic more.

A year later, King’s book, “Such a Bittersweet Day”, is a compilation of black and white photos of the demonstrations that have taken place in the past year with captions of an oral history of the movement by journalist Sunny Angulo. All proceeds from the book go to Transgender Law Center and Health Legal Services.

Desiree Aubry spoke at a rally that was put on by OSOF that King photographed in the Castro. She didn’t go up with a speech in hand, like the ones before had. Instead, she stood in front of the crowd and bared her soul for all to hear; it was one of the more emotional speeches of the night. “Hate cannot defeat love,” she said. “No matter how much it [hurts] our hearts… we are going to be strong.”

Aubry joined OSOF because she wanted to help. “It baffles me to this day how people can be so full of hatred and ignorance and how they can justify taking away our rights, taking away our happiness, demeaning us, telling us our lives and our love aren't worth a damn because it's different,” Aubry said when she heard about Prop 8’s passing.

Although Joe and Frank Capley-Alfano were part of the lucky group who got married, and more importantly got to keep their marriage, they had a long battle ahead of them; the couple still faced many financial hardships and discrimination. For five years they have been fighting to get Capley-Alfano put under his husband’s healthcare. Frank Capley-Alfano’s work could deny the joint health care because the federal law does not recognize the two as a couple. “As domestic partners we called the union to see if they could put [Joe] under healthcare as a domestic partner. Of course they said no,” Frank Capley-Alfano said. He works for the International Union of Elevator Constructors, who went with the notion that federal law supersedes state law and therefore did not need to offer domestic partner benefits; the union even sent out a letter defining what they saw as a married couple and what they considered a spouse.

After five years of back and forth with the union and various government officials and appeals, the two finally achieved the equality they worked so hard for. Their excitement was very apparent and contagious when speaking to them. It was a victory well worth celebrating, but it showed that there is still so much more to fight for. “Prop 8 took away and affected a lot more than people who wanted to get married. It opened the door for discrimination of all types in California… all communities to be attacked,” Capley-Alfano said. He then went on to say that “it’s not about marriage equality. It’s about civil equality and about equality for everyone.”

Many No on 8 organizations and supporters have been working hard on campaigning for the next general election in 2010. One Struggle, One fight is currently working on strategizing for their part in the effort to make a change with the California voters come November.

As for the future of LGBT equality, Aubry said she hopes “for full federal equality. I hope that the rest of the world not just the nation can accept us for who we are and who we love. I hope that when we get full equality, we don't forget the past and that we don't become complacent. Complacency is dangerous. If we become complacent we'll forget to fight for the rest of our rights… I want us to be able to be happy and free and truly live our lives, and be considered equal to others. My hope is that our hearts heal from all the breaks we've experienced, and that the anger dissipates. I hope the hate, more than anything disappears and that we can just celebrate love as it is.”

Final Story

2009-12-16T17:02:00.000-08:00

A few trees, some patches of grass and dirt, and a “SERVICE VEHICLES ONLY” sign are most of what sits in the lot on the corner of San Jose and Ocean avenues. Next year, this tucked-away corner of Balboa Park will be the location for San Francisco’s fourth skate park.

For months, dozens of residents have been discussing plans for the future of the park at meetings with the Trust For Public Land, a national nonprofit organization that deals with improving parks and preserving green space within them.

“Skate parks bring skaters out of the streets and into the park,” said Yohan Mangsy, a student at San Francisco City College, located across the freeway from Balboa Park. Mangsy, who has been skateboarding for 7 years, says less property damage to walls and ledges are reduced as a direct effect of having skate parks. Less security guards are beat up by skaters and vice versa, he said.

One concerned resident, Pat Ward, said that a skate park might bring more crime into the area and serve as a hub for drinking alcohol and smoking marijuana.

A skatepark brings skaters young and old alike, where in some cases “little kids grow up too fast,” said Mangsy.

“Have you seen the skate park at 25^th and Portrero,” asked Christopher Campbell, who rode his skateboard to the TPL meeting, defending the positive aspects of having a skate park. “It turned that neighborhood around,” and gave the kids something to do, he said.

However, Mangsy said that sometimes Norteños pick apples from the apple tree next to the Portrero skate park and throw them at the skaters. The mess of apples also makes the ground dangerously slippery, he said.

Having the highest density of children in San Francisco, Excelsior residents pushed for safe entrances leading into the park. They agreed that entrances should be built as far away from the intersection as possible and a fence keeps skaters from rolling into and out of the park from the crosswalks. The skate park is being built on the corner of one of the area’s busiest intersections, according to an SFMTA pedestrian and bike traffic study.

It will cost between $250,000 and $400,000 to build the skate park.

Companies including PG&E, Levi’s and GAP have matched the $1 million that TPL has raised and will match $4 million if they can raise it. However, the fund has hardly passed the $2.5 million mark.

These Balboa Park Improvements meetings allow the community to have input in deciding how this money will be spent.

Other funding comes from a $75,000 Community Challenge grand that goes towards park development only if ADA accessible pathways are constructed at the entrances.

Mike Neumann, principal of Neumann Construction Management, said that drawing plans would occur in the winter and bidding in March. Construction would begin three months after the lowest bidder is chosen, and residents can expect six to eight months before the project is complete, he said.

However, the city, not the community, will chose which companies to contract for everything between concrete and labor, said Jacob Gilchrist, a TPL landscape director.

Other plans for the Balboa Park’s renovation include a new play area, including 14-foot-tall swings, new play and picnic areas, and lighting improvement.

The fund will be distributed according to what the community prioritizes, said Gilchrist.

(Re)Discovering China Basin

2009-12-16T16:57:00.000-08:00

A big story happened in my neighborhood along with last weekend's big storm; the ruptured water main on Division and 10th showed once again the nature of the shaky ground that makes up the landfill area near Mission Channel. I went to take some pictures and found Michael Carlin of the PUC supervising repairs to the "sinkhole." I asked Carlin whether the heavy rain had contributed to the rupture but he said that the age of the pipe was the main factor in the break. Other theorists cited the temperature of the water as a factor(3).

Some pictures of the old pavement tell a different story: a long crack in the asphalt with grass growing in it showed that the ground beneath the pavement had been sinking for some time previous to the break (pictures here soon). Given the intersection's location along the old creekbed, it seems more ikely that the heavy rains undermined the massive old pipes, causing them to shift and burst.

I wanted to go there Saturday night when I found the story online, but I was fighting off the flu, besides, I would have needed a rubber raft to get near the place. But I could really picture the whole scene and imagined what might happen if things got out of hand. I pictured the old creek coming to life again and the deep magic washing the whole Mission Bay neighborhood into the sea, just like when Narnia awoke in the famous book and all the bridges fell and the animals started talking again.

But back to reality:

When I took the China Basin beat this semester, I honestly wasn't sure what part of town it was, but I vaguely recalled from long ago that it was a gritty, dangerous area. What I found out about the Basin involved numerous and long-standing factors that combine to contribute to the area's hazardous character. The Basin is a waterfront area taken from the natives and created out of tideland marshes by speculators and industrialists in the Gold Rush era. Mission Creek was, and still is to some extent, polluted both by raw human sewage and offal from creekside slaughterhouses. One houseboat resident told me the Channel was a de facto military base during WWII when navy vessels docked there.

I learned that in essence, although the view is nice from the north side of the channel, the southern landfill side is essentially a demilitarised zone and a hotly disputed conversation piece for a myriad of local agencies and planning commissions lobbying for their projects and plans regarding the area. Even Francisco Da Costa, a local environmental expert whom I've often quoted as an impartial source, has recently been accused of making racist remarks (1); he also promotes the creation of a self-sufficient black community in the area. Da Costa is Chief Executive Officer of the South East Sector Community Development Corporation, whose website states: "SESCDC seeks bring about a shift of consciousness from dependency to self-sufficiency among the people of depressed African-American communities and other similar minority communities" (2). As noble a goal as this may be, it addresses long-standing social disparities between the area neighborhoods, and it seems that one of the main functions of the China Basin industrial area is to exist as a sort of buffer zone between SOMA and Bayview residents, whether intentionally or not.

Sources:

1.
Heather Knight - SF Chronicle, March 19, 2008
Francisco Da Costa Gets The Outster From Chris Daly in SF
http://zennie2005.blogspot.com/2008/03/francisco-da-costa-gets-outster-from.html

2.
http://www.sescdc.org/about_us

3.
http://abclocal.go.com/kgo/story?section=news/local/san_francisco&id=7170988

See also
http://abclocal.go.com/kgo/video?id=7169039

Building bonds in the Bayview — one person, one community at a time

2009-12-16T14:14:00.000-08:00

The Bayview-Hunter’s Point District is not ashamed it is forgotten. No, it relishes in this fact. As industrial spires climb their way to the tops of San Francisco, it seems as if this area of town is proud of itself. It humbles itself so outsiders must search for the beauty here. Terraces don’t rise and grocery stores don’t buzz about with upper-middle class sensualities. Toyota Priuses don’t glide about leisurely, rather cars from America’s industrial apex grind the pavement. Cadillac DeVilles and Pontiac Firebirds puff CO into the air. A lot of Bayview-Hunter’s Point is a relic of America (and San Francisco’s) age of industry and community.

The former Naval shipyard rusts against the bay and local shops are boarded up, creating a ghost-town feel. This is not the San Francisco of brochures. Golden bridges and green parks are replaced with grey edifices and burnt tarmac, the only shade of color being the faces of people who stroll Third Street. And though this all seems fitting for a forgotten town in the southeast part of San Francisco, a new bud is blooming. Bayview-Hunter’s Point, despite its reputation, is a hotbed for community actions and involvement. But again, these developments aren’t explicit. Bayview-Hunter’s Point rewards seekers, and for some, they only had to look as far as their backyards. Others go door-to-door, and see the problems in the area and offer help, hoping to spur movements that’ll move beyond the community. Nonetheless the community thrives, and whether it’s a fifth grade student or a district supervisor, we can all learn who we are from our communities.

*******

51-year-old James Ross’ Southern drawl is subtle, yet inviting. The way he pronounces his words takes you back to a place in time where Coca-Cola was just a nickel and the only propaganda you needed to worry about was coming out of your radio. His Aunt purchased his home on Quesada Street in 1948, and as a result, he now lives in it with his youngest son.

“It was wild as a deer,” Ross said after being asked how Bayview was in the past. “Bayview had drugs, prostitutes and trash in the islands.”

Ross came to Bayview-Hunter’s Point from his hometown of Danville, Ky. (population: 31,000) to San Francisco in 1979 to live with his aunt. In 1983, he left to travel throughout the world and in 2000 Ross came back to Bayview and moved into his aunts house to take care of her.

Quesada Street is a caterpillar of a street. It runs up and down, starting at Third Street and riding up west to the Hunter’s Point hill. Ross’ home is located to the east of Third Street, on a little bloc with maybe a dozen homes. It was after returning back to the Bayview that Ross and his neighbors worked together to spur on a movement that would touch the lives of many Bayview-Hunter’s point residents. The group ushered forth community and began to see what true community looked like and it all began with flowers.

Nature struck its wrath on the Quesada street median, and as as result, 8-foot-tall bushes encompassed the already planted palm trees. It looked like all the quasi-vegetation that peeps around San Francisco’s concrete. It seemed just like any other median.

“People used to park their cars on the median and change their oil,” Sharon Bliss, Quesada Street home owner and professor at San Francisco State’s Fine Art department, said.

“Some of the seniors were putting flowers in the median in front of their homes. They wanted something nice in front of their homes,” Ross said.

Ross said he watched his neighbors for six months before he asked them what they were doing out there. Annette, one of the neighbors planting flowers, told him that she want something pretty to look at outside of her window. Unfortunately, it seemed like others didn’t care as much, which left Annette often fixing her plants from foot traffic or cars. Ross said she wouldn’t give up and soon began taping off the area. This soon inspired him as well as another neighbor, Karl, to begin doing so too. Soon, multiple houses began to plan their own creations on the median.

“The city came in and cut down the 8 foot tall bushes after we told them,” Ross said. Soon after this, the entire neighborhood became involved with more and more people planting something each day. Ross said they soon realized this is something that should spread to Bayview and so the Quesada Gardens Initiative was born. The city even installed watering systems to keep the plants going.

But it wasn’t that simple.

Becoming a Non-profit organization takes work, man-power and money. A mob of people will get you the first two. The last one takes a bit more.

“If you know who your neighbors are, you know what skills they have,” Ross said. Upon asking neighbors about their skills, Ross said they found a banker, a grant writer, a filmmaker and a professional gardener.

A graphic designer was needed so Ross enrolled in City College to take image editing classes. Ross said he does all the flyer work now. They soon pitched their idea to Renaissance Parents of Success, a 28-year-old Non Profit who worked with at-risk youth, who gladly provided funds to start.

And so it began.

For seven years the Quesada Gardens Initiative planted all kinds of foliage up the median. They enlisted help from the entire Bayview Community, as well as other parts of San Francisco and the Bay Area. Students from the University of San Francisco came to help build planter boxes. Students from Stanford took an entire weekend to help dig trenches for gardens. The end result was a beautiful, almost mythic garden that welcomes Third Street residents a chance to stop and look.

In 2007, Karl Paige, one of the pioneers of the Quesada Gardens movement, passed away. Ross said they wanted to make sure they honored him in a way that showed the community what he was about. A Bayview artist was chosen to paint a mural on the 30 foot wall at the end of the block. The top of the wall holds a memorial garden with a bench that offers a gorgeous view of the city and neighborhood.

Currently, twelve other gardens sprinkled throughout the Bayview exist, each with support from the area it’s in. The Bridgeview Garden, which is on the next street above of the Quesada Garden in the garden of a couple, is an orchard with apples and pears. Ross said the couple that houses the garden allowed them to pick the fruit and give it out to the the neighbors.

Ross has also created a side project called BayBloom that encourages families to place planter boxes in their backyards, creating fruit and vegetables for the entire community. The idea came from others on the Quesada garden block, who grew vegetables in their backyard and also because Bayview lacks grocery stores.

“In other districts they got everything they need, but when it comes to Bayview everything seems slow,” Ross said. He also said that though a lot of produce comes through the Bayview, it’s shipped out everywhere else.

Ross view of grocery trains in the Bayview are not too far-fetched. According to a Google Maps search of grocery stores listed in the Bayview, roughly nine are displayed, mostly miniature grocery outlets that serve more fast food than produce. Whole Foods has a distribution center in Bayview, but most of its stores are either downtown or in areas like Noe Valley. GreenLeaf, a company founded in 2005 whose goals are to are to provide great products to restaurants, is located in Bayview but their website does not list any ways for residents to take advantage of their produce.

“It’s almost fraudulent they do that,” Ross said about the lack of grocery stores in the Bayview. “And even when they do have organic foods, they’re too expensive.”

Fresh & Easy Neighborhood Market, a British grocery train that’s become popular in the last few years for their cheap and healthy produce, was scheduled to build two stores in the Bayview last year, but halted production as of April 2008, according to an San Francisco Chronicle article. Fresh & Easy’s website list the locations at Third and Carroll Streets, as well as Silver Avenue and Goettingen Street, both epicenters of activity in the district.

A Farmer’s Market in the Bayview is listed on Jerrold Avenue but only offers produce from May through October on Wednesdays, according to the California Certified Farmer’s Market website. Ross confirmed the location of the farmer’s market but said it’s not frequent enough for the community to use.

As a result, Ross wanted everyone in the community to use their backyards to grow fruit. Bayview-Hunter’s Point houses the most homes owned by their occupants in San Francisco with average home ownership at 66 percent according to the 2000 census.

“Most homes have some kind of fruit trees but most people don’t want to deal with them so they rot. What we’ll do is go in, harvest the fruit, and give people a portion. We give away the fruit to the community and it would cost them nothing,” Ross said. “We’re trying to bring back fresh food and vegetables to the community. We’re trying to keep history alive in at Bayview.”

The project is one hold as the winter doesn’t offer much produce. That said, Ross is

working with agriculture and engineering majors at USF to create cheap, planter boxes that will allow residents to grow all kinds of fruit and vegetables. Ross was quick to make sure people understood the point of Quesada Gardens and why it began.

“It’s not about gardening, it’s about bringing people together.”

******

Last June, the San Francisco board of Supervisors passed a law, mandating stricter compost recycling laws. Mayor Gavin Newsom wants San Francisco to be the greenest city by 2020 and thus, agencies like SF Environment came to help. SF Environment is a zero waste program responsible for enforcing this ordinance, but the organization is not new to enforcing or changing municipal laws. They were the driving force behind San Francisco’s plastic bag ban in 2007. They’re pushing city-wide for better electricity and compost habits, but it’s their grassroots campaign in Bayview-Hunter’s Point that’s become a big focus.

“People don’t care about the environment because people don’t know,” Jean Walsh, Outreach Specialist for SF Environment said. Walsh said that SF Environment’s goals are to educate and show people that becoming green isn’t just good for the Earth, but good for them too.

“A lot of contaminants are in the air of people’s homes,” Walsh said. “We send people to have a look at what cleaning products they have that may cause health issues like asthma.” Based on a 2000 report done by the San Francisco Public Health Department, rates of asthma were higher in African Americans than any other ethnic population. African Americans account for roughly 7 percent of San Francisco’s population, but make up roughly 34 percent of Bayview, according to the last US census.

Recently, SF Environment started a campaign to make house calls to residents in the Bayview and do door-to-door visits to teach them about the new law, as well as how they can save money with eco-friendly light bulbs. Walsh said people were excited they came and that interest in the environment was very popular.

SF Environment also employed around 40 people through San Francisco’s Jobs Now program, many of them Bayview residents. The program uses federal stimulus money to great greener jobs for unemployed people in San Francisco.

“It’s running only until next year so we’re pushing to keep it going,” Walsh said. Walsh also said that the need for a better environment creates jobs for that need, which in turn provides better community. These are the goals SF Environment wants to bring not only to the Bayview, but city-wide.

A greener Bayview continues to be a strong issue for both activists and residents alike. Bayview is the only part of the city with 25 percent of its land unindustrialized, according to the San Francisco Health Development Tool, leaving much debate about how to utilize the area. Furthermore. Bayview has 12 acres of public space opened to the public, compared to the city average of 9. Bayview is poised to become an area of health and prosperity, but it takes time to let people know that.

“We want people to know it’s not some hippy environmentalist thing,” Walsh said. “People want to talk about the environment.”

*******

“Put your problems on probation, run your troubles off the track, throw your worries out the window, get the monkeys off your back. Silence all your inner critics with your conscience make amends, and allow yourself some happiness, Its Christmas time again,” Fifth grader Jocelyn Eisner yelled. The crowd smiled as the curly haired girl with a caramel complexion and glasses sliding to her nose recited Bob Lazzar-Atwood’s poem It’s Christmas Time Again. Starbucks cups with free hot chocolate twitched, both out of anticipation of the next event and the harsh San Francisco winds that cut through the amphitheater. District 10 Supervisor Sophie Maxwell appeared, seemingly anxious to begin the display. She asked the audience to clap three times and with that the behemoth Christmas tree lit up Third Street. This was the end of a night of fun, holiday cheer and community.

The Bayview Community packed the Bayview Opera House last Saturday for the Sixth Annual Bayview Holiday Marketplace and Tree Lighting, which offered a free toy giveaway for kids ages zero to 12, live entertainment, an ice skating rink, local food and a marketplace for local vendors to sell their creations.

“Every year is a loving outpour,” Jacqueline Hunter said. Hunter, who’s come to each event since the first one, noted that this is one of the biggest events in the area.

The event began at noon and ran until 8 p.m. Different organizations such as social justice groups, The African American Holistic Wellness Center through the YMCA, Wells Fargo and others came to offer both events to attend to, as well as support such as help purchasing a new home. Vendors and organizations used this event to not only provide fun for the families and children around Bayview-Hunter’s Point, but wanted to challenge the community to grow and change.

“This is the time to galvanize the community,” Bayview artist and activist Malik Seneferu said. Seneferu was among one of the vendors who sold art at the event. Among the food vendors were The Po-Boy stop, Noah’s Dirty Popcorn, La Laguna Taqueria and Miz Lynn’s Pies.

Demarcus Freemon, a member of the African American Holistic Wellness program at the YMCA, said that it’s always great to see people out and that he hopes the programs they’re bringing attract the community. Among them were a spoken word and poetry event Dec. 16 and a city-wide Kwanzaa celebration beginning Dec. 28.

Supervisor Maxwell joined the celebration at 5 p.m to light the Christmas that overlooks Third and Oakdale streets. Mayor Gavin Newsom was scheduled to appear according to the SF Bayview Newspaper’s community events calendar, but there was no mention of his absence.

Bayview Police officer Greg Surh introduced himself as the new captain of the station and offered his help and protection to the residents of Bayview.

When Maxwell was asked about the importance of politicians in public, she said that because supervisors are district elected, it’s important that they go into the community.

“This is where we come from,” Maxwell said. “This is who we are.”

Economic Divide of Fillmore and Pacific Heights (final)

2009-12-16T14:04:00.000-08:00

Katie Jacobs walks through the door of The Coffee Bean on the corner of Fillmore and Sacramento streets in her high black boots, hip outfit, and wavy chestnut hair. Four blocks away, Dominique Delanghe creates enchanting pasties of sorcerous proportions that bewitch the pedestrians of Lower Pacific Heights. Seven blocks from there, on Fillmore and Turk streets, a Muni substation will be rebuilt by the Redevelopment Agency causing aggressive concern in the Fillmore community about the future purpose of the station.

The Fillmore and Pacific Heights are connecting neighborhoods with people of different ethnicities, cultures, classes, and social perspectives. The difference between lifestyles are staggeringly opposite yet the difference between streets are only footsteps apart.

“It’s almost like they’re separate countries,” said Jacobs. “I wonder how many of them can acknowledge that.”

The Fillmore district, where 18 percent of their neighborhood is under the poverty line, has long stood as a cultural focal point for the African-American community. The Fillmore is made up of 51 percent African-American, 27 percent Caucasian, 14 percent Asian, and the rest is a mix.

During World War II, many African-Americans located to the Fillmore after Japanese-Americans were made to go to internment camps. But because of urban decay, the Fillmore was designated for redevelopment and many residents were forced out, which created unrest among the inhabitants. The plan was that they could come back but the redevelopment project took much longer than expected, which brewed resentment towards the agency. Houses were replaced with the creation of subsidized units for low-income families. To this day, redevelopment is still a controversial topic in the Fillmore district.

Not too far way from there, are some of the city’s more comfortable dwellers. Of the 30,000 residents of Pacific Heights, according to a real estate demographic research, about 3,000 are blue-collar workers while roughly 18,000 are white collar workers. About 15,500 of the residents have either their bachelor’s or graduate degrees. And the average household income is $117,000. It is a highly desired neighborhood to live in and has won the nickname, “Specific Whites.”

The economic and the racial divide between two such adjacent neighborhoods are quite disheartening. A question for the masses could be whether one of these factors dictate the lives of the inhabitants more than the other.

“I definitely think that it’s more of a class thing than a race thing,” said Jacobs. “The black population is declining in our city, but I don’t think it’s because they’re black, but because they’re poor.”

San Francisco’s African-American population is steadily declining, more so than any other urban city in the nation, according to the North County Times, but some demographers claim that it is because they are migrating to the suburbs once they have enough money, like many other minority groups do.

“I think that eventually all the poor people will be pushed out of the Fillmore and the Tenderloin into the other poor districts in the outskirts of the city, like Bayview and the Excelsior,” said Mary Nguyen, 21, a resident of Lower Pacific Heights for three years.

Nguyen stands on the corner of Fillmore and Pine streets in her black knit beanie, skinny black jeans, and black wedged heels, smoking a Parliament cigarette. “Eventually, all the poor will be concentrated even more than it is now, and the rich will make their way completely on the inside of the city,” said Nguyen. The smoke streamed out of her mouth the way an engine exits steam, consistent and gray.

One cannot help but feel that society is changing in subtle ways. Instead of ostracizing a group of people based on their race the way history has shown us was one of the most insurmountable obstacles our country has gone through, things have regressed to medieval times where class and social standing defined everything. It does not matter what ethnicity you are in modern days, just how many commas you have in your bank statement.

“This definitely catches my attention,” said Jacobs, “but I also see it the way it is. It’s the way history goes.” Jacobs pulls back her wavy brown hair, sips her warm coffee, and takes short strides to the restroom with her arms crossed like a disgruntled mother.

It is undeniable that things are changing, now more than ever. And perhaps it is not enough to acknowledge the problem anymore. In past years, getting people to just see the problem was the most adverse feat, but now it’s getting people to do something about it. There is a social battle going on in this city, not just the Fillmore and Pacific Heights, but throughout every vein and alleyway of San Francisco.

A city can often be viewed as a kingdom, painted with beautiful buildings and utterly boisterous streets filled with people and purposes. In 2010, it is the same social classes that exist now as it did then; the rich keep getting richer and the poor keep getting more poor. The gap grows wider than the ocean. Although most of us can see this gap, it is essential to bridge the two before a modern-day city becomes nothing more than a storybook kingdom of social rank and endless complacency. The Fillmore and Pacific Height are a perfect example of this economic divide.

2009-12-16T13:45:00.000-08:00

Changing the look of business in Noe Valley

Recently several large businesses have opened in Noe Valley and are threatening the existence of local stores. The opening of a new grocery store in a neighborhood that has a history of mom and pop stores and non-national chains doesn't usually go over smoothly. When it comes to Noe Valley however, there appears to be an exception. Small business owners like James Omar of the Shufat Market and Charles Kung of the 24th Street Cheese Company want to keep big chain stores out of the neighborhood, but most people in the area are all for the opening of the Whole Foods.

On Sept.30, Whole Foods opened its doors at 3950 24Th St. Since it's arrival in their neighborhood, Whole Foods has received an overwhelmingly positive welcome from the local residents. The small parking lot in front of the store is typically full of cars (how do we know that?), with a line forming down 24Th street and the picnic tables out front are equally full with mothers and strollers on sunny days. "Ultimately customers will determine what business will stay and what will go", said Jack Epstein of Chocolate Covered, the only chocolate shop in Noe Valley.

Most of the smaller stores in Noe Valley will not be able to compete with Whole Food's prices but they can compete for better service by gaining loyalty from customers. This is what several businesses like Bernie's coffee shop and Drewes Brothers Meats are doing. Employees at Bernie's greet each customer when they come in the door, most of them by name, and provide each customer with a sort of personalized experience. This is what Bernie Melvin believes is the key to the success of her coffee shop.

For other stores, offering things like classes for customers and other promotional rebate programs can help build loyalty allowing their bussiness to thrive.

Other Businesses Like PlumpJack Wines are taking what some consider the fight to distributors to get better prices or exclusivity on certain items.

"People should spread their purchases around", said manager Elio Longobardi of PlumpJack wines, who lives in Noe Valley. He shops at Whole Foods, Drewes Brothers Meats, and Noe Valley Bakery.

Still no matter what some small businesses do they are still going to take a big hit and not be able to compete with Whole Foods.

Charles Kung has owned the 24Th Street Cheese Company for 23 years and has recently had to borrow money from his father to keep the business going.

"I'm just waiting for my slow death" said Kung, who is adamantly against Whole Foods opening. He went on to say that people in the neighborhood don't care if small businesses survive.

The future of businesses in Noe Valley will be determined buy customers but small businesses need to realize that they have influence on their customers as well. The power to survive during hard economic times and competition with big business lies with the people.

What I Learned About Myself and My Neighborhood

2009-12-16T13:28:00.001-08:00

This class is definitely my most challenging class so far. I took newswriting before and it’s nothing like this reporting class. The first assignment, which was to find 20+ names of contacts, freaked me out. I wondered for hours around Japantown just trying to find the “right person” and that person never appeared. So, I had to summon all the courage that I got, talking to strangers. The first step is definitely the scariest one!

As time went by, I learned not to freak out right before an interview (hint: do it secretly). Of course, there’s also a time when I was totally nervous but I tried to hide it. Journalism is definitely about learning to put a mask on. You can be super clueless in an interview or a meeting but you have to pretend that you understand only to gain a trust that you’re a professional (by the way, you still have to clarify and ask questions later… don’t just stay quiet). You may be bored to tears because the person you interview ramble on about things that are not really interesting or may not be your interest but you still have to put the professional mask and ask questions.

I’m learning to be persistent and not giving up easily. I experience failures and moments of feeling-like-I-want-to-give-up thing but it became less frequent. The crime story was definitely a lot of work. My God… I had a new respect for journalists who write criminal stories now.

As for my neighborhood, I learned to venture outside my comfort zone (read: the mall) and try to emerge myself to the neighborhood. P (Peter Yamamoto) said the best place to hang out with the locals is Benkyodo and that where I spent my time now when I’m in the neigborhood. I can sit there and hear people talking in Japanese. Bummer… I should learn some Japanese to be able to participate in their discussion. A plus for me is that I looked like a Japanese so people seemed to be comfortable to talk to me about their internment time, post- or pre-war story and Japanese culture.

I learned that Japantown was not as financially secured as I thought it was too. I definitely enjoyed talking to people and learning about new things. I hope this new knowledge will be of a use for me in the future.

One too many hits (FINAL)

2009-12-16T12:54:00.001-08:00

The intoxicating aromas of exotic incense smoke creeps into John Amaro’s nostrils as he walks into a head shop on Haight Street. Reggae drumbeats fill his ears as he passes through the entrance where he is immediately surrounded by posters displaying psychedelic designs, counterculture art and sketches of cannabis. To his left, the owner of Euphoria Distractions, Jim Siegel, is talking on the phone while sitting behind a glass counter filled with pipes, roach clips and bongs. He is discussing the downfall of his business with the person on the other end of the line.

The decreased business he speaks of is a result of an increasing number of head shops opening on Haight Street. There are 14 of these shops already open in the Haight-Ashbury district, all within close proximity to each other. Siegel has owned Distractions since 1976 and will be closing up shop within the next seven months. His decision came five months after the San Francisco Board of Supervisors passed a moratorium banning the opening of new smoke shops on Haight Street. The measure, which was introduced by District 5 Supervisor Ross Mirkarimi and received a unanimous vote, was passed to prohibit any new head shops from opening in the district for the next three years.

Four months before the ban was placed, a large smoke shop called Goodfellas opened on Haight Street. Called the “Wal-Mart of Bongs” by some competitors on the street, Goodfellas draws residents and tourists in with huge window displays of bongs, pipes and tourist merchandise.

John Amaro, 53, has lived between Masonic and Ashbury streets for 15 years and frequents the various smoke shops on Haight Street. He considers Goodfellas to be one of his least favorite smoke shops in the Haight district.

“I feel that owners and operators of Goodfellas have a personal grudge against the other pipe shop operators on the street. They are too in your face,” Amaro said. “It’s a nice store but it’s too large for its own good, and that results in it having no style or direction.”

The style and direction Amaro speaks of first became evident during the 1960s hippie movement that took over the Haight district. Along with the rest of San Francisco during this time, the Haight District gained a reputation for its drug culture with the use of marijuana, LSD and other hallucinogenic drugs. Independently owned bookshops and poster stores soon grew into smoke shops to blend in with the neighborhood.

Not long after the hippie movement began did Siegel decide to open up a business in the Haight district in the late 70s. Most of the shops on the street were boarded up and there were mostly liquor stores. The owner of a smoke shop called The Phoenix was in the process of closing his business, but Siegel didn’t want it to close since he felt the shop was all that was left of the hippie days.

“He said ‘if you want to be the last hippie, here you go,’ and he gave me everything,” Siegel said.

With everything that was given to him, Siegel opened The White Rabbit, which didn’t work out as a business. Afterward, he opened Pipe Dreams, the oldest smoke shop in San Francisco. After business with a partner there was unsuccessful, a new owner took over, and Siegel opened Euphoria Distractions in 1976.

“For many years we did very good business because it was just [Distractions] and Pipe Dreams,” he said. “But then in 1994 they opened up Ashbury Tobacco Center and in the last two years its gotten worse.”

Siegel said that because of so many head shops on Haight Street, including the oversized Goodfellas, he is losing more than $2,000 in business per week. Goodfellas declined to comment on this matter or others related to their recent opening in the district, but their silence doesn’t stop neighbors from speaking their mind about the problem with too many head shops in the area, and the negative effects it has on their business.

“There aren’t enough people buying things. People look, but they don’t buy,” Siegel said. “We’ve got too many stores on Haight Street selling exactly the same stuff. They need to lose half of them.”

While some merchants like Siegel feel that all of the head shops are offering the same merchandise, 24-year-old San Francisco State University alumnus Caryl Carino points out that although some of the products might be the same, there are differences.

“I have noticed that most people who are buying hookah accessories tend to favor one store over the other,” Carino said. “If you go to almost any smoke shop on Haight, prices and selection will vary. It just depends on what the customer needs and wants.”

To 41-year old Marwan Zeidan, owner of Ashbury Tabacco Center, it’s more about the preservation of Haight culture rather than what products are being offered. Zeidan said the shops that have been on the street for a while have grown into the culture of Haight Street, but he has a problem with the newer shops like Goodfellas and believes the displays of smoke pipes in their front windows aren’t good for the neighborhood.

“The newer shops [on Haight Street] don’t embrace the culture of Haight, and the two new stores that opened up are something we just don’t need. We have enough shops to serve the neighborhood,” Zeidan said. “None of the owners are happy, none of the neighbors are happy, and none of the merchants are happy.”

With grief from shop owners joining the smoke in the streets of Upper Haight, Siegel felt it was time to make a move. He went to Ross Mirkarimi asking him to propose a ban to prevent any more from opening, and was told he needed neighbored support. This led him to the Haight-Ashbury Improvement Association.

“When I first went to them they didn’t seem to think it was necessary and didn’t follow through with it,” Siegel said. “But then when Goodfellas opened up everybody in the neighborhood agreed that there’s way too many head shops.”

But by the time the neighborhood came together to discuss the issue, it was too late; Goodfellas had already opened. Haight-Ashbury Improvement Association member Joan Boyd felt that Mirkarimi had betrayed the neighborhood because there was no community communication about Goodfellas’ plan to open a store on Haight Street.

“This ban on head shops is not about protecting the business or profits of existing head shops,” Boyd said. “And by letting Goodfellas open before the ban took effect was really deceptive and hurt existing businesses.”

Mirkarimi and his press secretary Rick Galbraith declined to comment on the unexpected opening of Goodfellas. Carino sees the opening of the large bong shop as the “straw that broke the camels back,” and that it was a store that appeared at the wrong time. But she doesn’t understand the amount of attention that has been brought to Goodfellas specifically.

“I dislike the amount of attention it is getting because there have always been many smoke shops on Haight,” she said. “Like other smoke merchants in the area, the ownership is looking to get a piece of the smoke shop culture in the district; I don’t see what the hype is about.”

But the increasing number of head shops in the Haight district and a possible overturn of the neighborhood’s original hippie culture are not the only concerns. There is also skepticism of the appeal the products sold at these shops might have toward teens. In September, the Food and Drug Administration ruled that the making, distributing or selling of flavored cigarettes is illegal. According to the legislative details of the ban, these flavored cigarettes are marketed toward teens who are under the false impression that these cigarettes don’t contain any nicotine. Boyd feels this is false advertising especially because hookah tobacco doesn’t fall under the category of the banned tobacco products, meaning that smoke shops can still sell it.

“Unbelievably, there is great denial about the harmfulness of smoking. Education of the public has not worked as well as one might think,” she said. “However, people do respond to laws like smoking bans and taxes. ”

One of the only items Carino picks up from these smoke shops is hookah tobacco, and says that with the economy in the state its in, its not the hookah tobacco itself that will necessarily appeal to potential buyers, but the price differences. When she visits the Haight District to buy shisha, she keeps an eye out for which shop has the most reasonable prices.

Many Haight residents and store owners hope that the three-year moratorium will extend and an agreement will arise that permanently bans any more shops from opening. This will put an end to the grief of those that have made their place there more than 20 years ago.

“I know and like a lot of the shop owners,” Amaro said. “But a lot of the pipe shops on Haight Street are there just so they can one up each other.”

The Rise and Fall of Japantown (Final)

2009-12-16T12:54:00.000-08:00

Japan Center’s hottest topic of the month was the construction of a new little square looking thing in front of Café Hana. Many people stopped when they saw it and argued about what that thing was. The square thing was built in replace of the small waterless fountain but other than that, there was no other clear explanation known to people in general.

Seiko Fujimoto, a Japan Center’s merchant, half-jokingly said it was an Olympic swimming pool. A visitor of the Japan Center said it looked like a shiatsu bath. No one was able to figure out what that thing was exactly. It remained a mystery for everyone for sometime until the construction workers started to put colorful tiles on it.

“It’s a pond,” another visitor said.

The pond is like a premonition of Japantown’s future that is still unknown and in questioned.

San Francisco’s Japantown, one of the three remaining Japantowns in California, struggled to stay afloat. A merchant said in the Japantown Merchants Association’s meeting if sales went down constantly since September.

Steve Nakajo, the co-founder of Kimochi, a non-profit organization that assists senior citizen, said, “Do you see how many people in the Japan Center? It’s dead, man. There are probably two to three people.”

“Do you want a business here?” he asked.

Most community members and activists agree if an immediate action needs to be taken immediately before all of the merchants go out of business.

However, generational and cultural gaps got in the way. Everyone had a different point of view about what was best for Japantown. Each felt strongly about his or her stance and did not seem to willing to let it go.

Some people wanted Japantown to stay the way it was with little changes or minor renovations to bring old customers back. Others wanted to turn around Japantown’s image of being a quiet neighborhood to a hip and cool neighborhood for youngsters and this will be done by bringing trendy places to hang out at Japantown.

E.J. Varela, the food and beverages director of Hotel kabuki, said, “They do not want any society trends.”

Varela directed the statement to people who do not share her point of view and those who preferred to preserve Japantown like it was “a museum.” She mentioned Starbucks, Subway and several big names in the list of “trendy” brands that will bring more people to Japantown.

Under the city’s zoning code, Japantown has a rule that every business in the area has to be culturally relevant. This rule and regulation automatically bans chain restaurants like McDonald’s and retails like Macy’s and Bloomingdale's. The idea is to protect the small businesses in the area but will it help? Do people and businesses think they need to have a McDonald’s in the neighborhood?

Reaching a consensus is definitely a painful thing because there is hardly a middle ground in the process.

Aya Ino, a member of Nihonmachi Roots, a new youth group that taken an interest of Japantown issues related, pointed out the importance of having a dialogue to bridge the wide gap between those who want to preserve and those who want to change.

In the mean time, Japantown continued to show signs of dying and many people became frustrated, racing with the time to save their neighborhood.

These people had every reason to be frustrated: the two community’s newspapers, Nichi Bei Times (founded in 1899) and Hokubei Mainichi (founded in 1948), which had been circulating around Japantown for generations, suddenly disappeared. The two newspapers closed down with just two months in between.

Karen Kai, a community activist, talked about the community’s reaction of the closing of the two newspapers, “Everybody knew about the closing of Nichi Bei but when Hokubei’s closing down, they said, ‘Hokubei?!’”

When Nichi Bei Times announced it would publish its last issue on Sept. 10, Robert Okamura, the owner of a family-owned mochi store, Benkyodo, said even if Nichi Bei Times shut down, they still have the Hokubei Mainichi.

But now, with both newspapers folded up, Japantown’s community had no one to tell the story of the mom and pop store that went out of business and the life journey of a community’s elder who passed away. There will be no more tales about the neighborhood that survived two redevelopments in the past.

Basil Lee, a volunteer in Kimochi, said, “The younger generation, who born here, they adapted to American life. Maybe they don’t like sushi as much. Or rice. They eat hamburger.”

Japanese-American has a very unique identity. They have Japanese roots and history but many assimilate to the American culture. Today, many Japanese-Americans have only a trace of Japanese culture in them.

Fujimoto, who worked and raised her children in the United States, said that her son tried hard to be an American when he grew up and in the process, Fujimoto said she believed her son had became more of an American than a Japanese.

Another problem is language. Language is culture. However, many Japanese-Americans who grew up in the United States have little or no knowledge about Japanese language.

Kai, who served in the advisory board of Japantown Better Neighborhood Plan, said, “During the internment camp, many Japanese, me included, were raised under the belief if the assimilation was the key goal. And piece of that assimilation was to speak flawless English so my parents never sent me to Japanese school.”

Many parts of the culture are lost in translation. Thus, the generations of Japanese who do not speak the language will probably feel weaker connections with their roots and less eagerness to learn and pass on their culture to the next generation. When the language died, the culture died too.

Peter Yamamoto of the National Japanese American Historical Society said Japantown has a slow replenishing rate from immigration to keep it alive.

If what Yamamoto said was true, who will keep Japantown alive? Will it even needed to have a Japantown when the younger generations feel less attachment with the Japanese culture?

Benh Nakajo, a community activist who worked at Benkyodo, said, “[Our] goal is to leave something for the future generation. At least, physically.”

From there, the fight continued.

While some stores closed, others open. NEW PEOPLE, a new store in Japantown that markets itself on the image of Japanese pop-culture, was hoped to bring more people, especially youths, to the neighborhood. On a community forum on the Japanese-American Press, there was also a possibility to turn both of the community’s newspapers into non-profit organizations just to keep them going. While some people moved out of Japantown, grassroots organizations like Nihonmachi Roots appeared and organized to promote Japantown. When one thing falls, another rises.

Final Story

2009-12-16T11:42:00.000-08:00

Two people lay on the wet grass of the Civic Center Plaza. Pigeons flew throughout the foggy sky. A grocery cart piled with black plastic bags and three rows of Little Red Flowers housed the men in their slumber.
Meanwhile, men and women in heavy jackets who hold fanny bags around their waists and hang cameras on their necks take pictures of each other in front of City Hall.
“They take one-hundred thousand pictures everyday,” snickered a scrawny man as he adjusted a worn-out San Francisco 49ers hat and lit a cigarette.
Van Ness Avenue, California, Market, and Leavenworth streets enclose many of San Francisco’s largest government and cultural buildings. Some people think of the Civic Center as a place for protests and festivities only. The truth is that when one listens to the people—the homeless, vendors, tourists, workers, and residents— one sees in them the reflection of a diverse and complex community. To say it’s the homeless, or the city’s supervisors, or the flee markets that depict the Civic Center is an illustration of a limited observation.
Jose and Bertha Yepez emigrated from Mexico and have been living in a neighborhood that lies to the west of the Civic Center for fifteen years—the Tenderloin.
Bertha Yepez said the “hazardous” conditions of the Civic Center’s playground have forced her to take her 5-year-old son to Yerba Buena Gardens where he can enjoy a “safe and clean park.” The playground in the Civic Center, which the neighborhood’s
own residents don’t know its name, has trash and pieces of broken glass under the swings.
“San Francisco is a beautiful city,” Jose Yepez said. “But the people in City Hall close their eyes to issues affecting the up-bringing of our children.”
According to the Yepez couple, this year’s Love Fest, which is a festival that includes floats and techno music that occurs annually in San Francisco, exceeded its limits.
“We’re not against the festivities,” Bertha Yepez affirmed. “My participation has always been optional, but this year, two naked women were outside of the event’s boundaries. That’s disrespectful.”
Bertha said the police arrived too late to McAllister and Fulton streets, where the women had been exposing themselves. “I hope the city sets stricter rules next year,” she said.
Betina Cordova, also from the Tenderloin, said she’s been living in the neighborhood and has been walking through the United Nations and Civic Center plazas to arrive to work for the past five years.
“The media exaggerates,” she said. “Shooting, stabbings, and violence from the homeless don’t happen every hour of every day.”
Cordova said she has noticed a decreased number of tourists in the Civic Center at later hours. “When the media focuses on the violence in these neighborhoods,” she said referring to the Tenderloin and the Civic Center, “People are afraid to come. They have a bad image of our community.”
However, a group of nine men and women tourists from China, who declined to give their first and last names, felt differently.
“Nothing here frightens us,” said the only man in the group who spoke English as he took a picture of the Simon Bolivar equestrian statue. “We come to San Francisco for nine days. The Civic Center is our first stop and the people are very nice.”
Cordova also believes that people who are new to the neighborhoods have a distorted image of the homeless who sleep and spend their waking hours in the streets of the Civic Center and the Tenderloin.
According to Cordova, the homeless men and women who find shelter in the plazas aren’t dangerous. She said most of the homeless keep to themselves, in fact, she said that throughout the five years she’s walked through the Civic Center, familiar faces welcome her with a ‘hello’ and a smile every morning, and wish her a good night at 10’ O clock, when she’s walking back to her apartment.
“A lot of the homeless are consumed in their loneliness and frustration,” Cordova said, “They just want to be left alone.” Cordova remembers seeing two of her neighbors
sleeping next to the Asian Art Museum after they lost their jobs and couldn’t afford to pay for rent.
Tom Jackson, one of Supervisor Chris Daly’s aides, said, “Well, there isn’t a lot of open space in such dense city. Of course a place like Civic Center is going to have people lying on the grass.”
Jackson said no complaints regarding the homeless in the plazas or in the “blue and yellow” playground have been reported to neither he nor Daly during his four months in office.
“Not every person resting in the plazas is homeless,” Jackson said, “There will be details that give them away,” he continued. According to Jackson, it’s obvious that the homeless will “want” to “hang out” in the area where most of the homeless health and shelter services are located.
According to a San Francisco Chronicle story written by C.W. Nevius, San Francisco spends a reported $100 million a year on its homeless population. In the same story, Kate Shuten, a public health nurse who has worked with the homeless in the city’s shelters, said many of the homeless men and women would rather live outside than in one of the downtown “crack” hotels.
“They [homeless] tell stories of people climbing through their windows, assaulting them, stealing their stuff, and even raping them,” Shuten said.

Jackson didn’t comment when asked to confirm that every one of the homeless “hanging out” in the plazas lived in one of the shelters that the city offers.
However, the plazas in the Civic Center are not solely inhibited by the homeless and don’t only illustrate the extreme poverty that exists in the community. The vendors in the plazas and their customers are an expression of the neighborhood’s grandeur and vitality that attracts San Franciscans and people from other Northern California cities alike.
For example, the United Nations Plaza, which extends from Market to Hyde streets, is home to the Heart of the City Farmers Market every Wednesday and Sunday. Youmna Yassad, from the Hayes Valley, says “the produce is more cheap and fresh” compared to the rest. Oranges, grapes, orchids, and fresh bouquets of flowers adorn the wooden tables that border the United Nations Plaza.
Adrian Alatorre from Modesto, an enthusiastic and avid 28-year-old vendor for Mora Farms who also works at the farmers market in Palo Alto and Daly City, said the market in the Civic Center has high- potential because it attracts a diverse range of people.
“I love the diversity of people in this neighborhood and the weather is a nice change,” he said about the Civic Center. “I’m thinking about living here while the farmers market closes for the season.”
On 7th and Market streets, the smell of Chinese and Japanese cuisine that diffuses from the Oriental Restaurant and the Oasis Barbeque Grill welcomes commuters who arrive from the Civic Center Muni and Bart stations.

The Revolving Door of SoMa

2009-12-16T11:27:00.000-08:00

The loft is 2100 sq. feet with large windows and bamboo color wood floors. The look of his furniture is minimal, sleek and impeccably pristine. Just like a typical bachelor’s pad the smell of leather and cologne exudes independence and wealth.

Kreisler Ng, 28, a business consultant lives in the new lofts on 5^th Street and Folsom Street and commutes to San Jose for work.

“ I’ve lived in the Sunset and San Jose and I just wanted to live in SoMa because it’s much more lively.”

He admits that living behind 1015 Nightclub can become a nuisance when club goers roam around the streets inebriated but says for the most part the noise doesn’t bother him.

“ I feel very fortunate to live here and to be able to afford to live here” Ng said.

Ng is a representation of the new face of SoMa and what could become the majority.The young, the rich, and the educated.

South of Market over the decades served as a transient neighborhood that housed many people from all walks of life.

The ever evolving neighborhood was once home to struggling artists, punk musicians and immigrants from Mexico and the Philippines.

In 1990, Filipinos comprised 30 percent of the population and became the largest ethnic group in South of Market. Today they are currently 5 percent of the population living in SoMa whom most are working in the district in hotels, restaurants, and commercial businesses.

MC Canlas, 50, lived in South of Market for 8 years said that everyone has credited Daly City as the center of the Filipino community but SoMa has always been the true stomping grounds.

As Canlas sits in his office at the Bayanihan Community Center, on Mission and 6^th Street, he said “ SoMa is where we struggled, so it just makes sense that the driving center is here.”

The struggle Canlas is referring to occurred in 1977 when 50 Filipino and Chinese immigrants received eviction notices to move out of their one bedroom home at the International Hotel which unofficially was considered “Manilatown”. Many of those who were evicted were in their 70’s and 60’s relocated to SoMa.

Gentrification is nothing new to San Francisco let alone in SoMa. Every year in SoMa a new apartment complex springs up and affordable housing becomes one of many challenges plaguing this neighborhood.

Jim Meko, chairman of The Western Task Force primary goal is to “ preserve and enchance” SoMa.

Meko has lived in South of Market for 32 years and can recall what it was like during the 1970’s.

“There was a series of murders the first year I was here and quite a few muggings. It was scary but there was an incredible sense of freedom and community too” Meko said.

The amount of good stories Meko shared out numbered the bad. Which explains why he still lives in the “Seedy” district and also explains why he is running for a seat on the board of supervisor for District 6 this upcoming election.

Meko’s fondest memory his past were Friday afternoons at the Ambush.

“ The Ambush was a neighborhood bar that was a real focal point for the community. A real "Cheers" kind of bar with a beloved cast of regulars” said Meko.

He adds, “I found an apartment that was practically next door. Started a business there a few years later. As independent entrepreneurs, we chose to close at noon every Friday so we could meet a couple friends at the Ambush and play pinball all afternoon. The bar is gone and the friends have moved on but we still close at noon on Fridays.”

Change is inevitable. Bars and businesses have come and gone throughout the years. Churches and schools are also not exempt for foreclosure especially in tough economic times.

More recently this past June, Catholic Charities CYO which runs the Children’s Village Child Development Center, announced they will be closing it’s location on 10^th Street between Howard and Folsom “due to re-structuring of the agency” said Gabrielle Slanina, communications cfficer of Catholic Charities CYO.

The prekindergarten school will close June of 2010, leaving parents and students with no alternate location for child care.

Slanina said “ We are working with parents to help with the transition.”

The closure of the school affects the parents who now have to find other locations outside of SoMa. But more importantly in the long term, the closure will affect the district’s demographic as a whole.

Currently, the neighborhood isn’t ideal for families and without institutions for child care or service catering to their everyday needs, SoMa will continue to shape into a domain for singles.

While Ng who lives a mere walking distance from bars and night clubs occasionally enjoy a night out every week with friends and co-workers.

Ng said, “ I don’t really have any idea of what I want SoMa to be because I don’t plan to settle here. It’s just fine for me for right now.”

North Beach, ti amo

2009-12-14T23:20:00.000-08:00

Fire Eater!

2009-11-30T12:52:00.000-08:00

Took my aunt to the Haight-Ashbury district and came across this group at the intersection of Haight & Masonic Streets.

Good Deeds Rewarded

2009-11-29T16:03:00.000-08:00

As you all know I've been spending a great deal of time in the TL these past months getting to know the community. Having the reputation as one of the toughest, if not the toughest neighborhood in San Francisco, I was understandably on high alert every time I would venture to the area. I'm just a long haired white boy who is obviously not from the hood, and probably just as obviously not even from San Francisco. Needless to say, I stand out like a sore thumb over there. Having a camera with me at all times and writing notes on the same corners where dope dealers make their living only gives people in the area more reason to look at me and not trust me. On top of seeing the homeless, the drug dealers and prostitutes first hand, I had to investigate the crime and statistics of the area, which only reinforced the stigma associated with the Tenderloin as a crime ridden neighborhood.

As time has gone on I've felt more and more comfortable spending time in the area. I've made a point to walk up to the scariest looking people, who I know for a fact are involved in shady activities, and talk to them. I let them know why I'm there and what I'm doing, assuring them that I'm in no way a threat to them. This has helped alleviate some of the mad-dog stares I was receiving from the head dope dealers and pimps in the area. Granted, some of them still didn't want me around or care to talk to me in the least bit, but some of them were actually quite supportive. I've been given a few pep talks about how it's great that I'm in school and how I have to stick with it so I don't end up in situations like they're in. Some guys have professed to me how they wish they had pursued school, and photography in particular in some cases, which I happen to be biased towards. So now when I walk the streets of the TL I get the head nod from some of the locals and looks of understanding opposed to the "you better get out of here before I stab you " looks.

Getting to know the locals and having the community know what I'm up to, I've felt as though the community kind of has my back to some degree. At least to the point where the people I've talked to just let me be to do what I've got to do. Unfortunately something happened a couple weeks ago that's negated a large portion of the safety I've been feeling.

One of the artists I've been covering for the Art in Storefronts project, Chor Boogie, had a run-in with some hoodlums two weeks ago. Apparently Boogie was adding to his mural painting on Market Street when four kids approached the two enormous bins filled with spray pain cans he has been using for the piece. The kids proceeded to take the spray cans and stuff them in their pockets. Boogie has been around and is no chump. He's not about to let some random kids just take his stuff. So he approached the kids and told them to stop what they were doing. Exactly what happened after that I can't say, but I do know that at the end of the conversation Boogie ended up with two stab wounds and a trip to the hospital. The incident even made the news that night. So here's a guy that has grow up in the bay area, is admittedly tougher than me, was contributing a public service by creating something beautiful in an otherwise dreary neighborhood, and ends up getting stabbed by a few locals just for trying to defend what is his. That kind of scares me.

Chor Boogie

Olympic Swimming Pool

2009-11-24T15:23:00.000-08:00

A few weeks ago, when I did my interview, Seiko Fujimoto took me to Japantown’s merchant meeting. In that meeting, merchants expressed their concerns. Two experts in marketing also attended the meeting. These experts taught the merchants about how to brand and market their products.

The merchants discussed about the need to bring younger crowd and other customers to spend more time in Japantown. To achieve the goal, the merchants wanted more parks and playgrounds for the family. The owner of Japantown also started to decorate Japantown. For example, the talk of the month was the new “Olympic swimming pool” in front of Murata’s Café Hana. The merchants said the swimming-pool-like fountain was weird. Fujimoto said she did not know what that thing was. It seemed the business owner was quite desperate to save their businesses.

Before this semester, I did not pay that much attention to Japantown. I did not even realize if Japantown was actually trying so hard to stay afloat. It was like a sinking ship. At the merchant’s meeting, many of the merchants said they had a decline in sales. One merchant even said last month was a month of no sales and it never happened before. This was definitely an alarming thing. My question: as many ethnic-based neighborhood decreasing in sizes, will Japantown be gone too (especially if the “rejuvenating” plan called Japantown Better Neighborhood takes place)?

2009-11-18T11:41:00.000-08:00

On my ride home from school yesterday I decided to stop in Noe Valley to get some ideas for a my blog. As I drove down 24th st I noticed that there was crowd on the corner of Sanchez. Excellent!

The new location of the local chain La Boulange Bakery was having it's grand opening party, and inviting the neighborhood in for free food. It was apparent that I wasn't the only person who was either hungry or curious. A crowd of almost 40 people had began to gather in front of the store and was anxiously waiting for the 4pm opening, it was 4:06. As soon as the the door began to open the crowd began to rush forward blocking the employee from being able to open the door which swung outwards. I immediately felt as if everyone was visitors to Willie Wonka's chocolate factory and instead of candy there were tables full delicious savory breads, cheeses, and desserts of all kinds. This illusion soon faded as I realized the store was completely full of people and I was being pushed and shoved so that people could get in on the deliciousness. What started out as a good thing turned really ugly as I watched people hoard multiple plates full of food leaving not much behind for others. The atmosphere in the room was very lively as the store became more crowded with people and the only way to walk move throughout the room was to shuffle.

Despite the greediness and crowdedness, the food was great! They served red, white, and sparkling wine as well as hot cider. I spoke with several people, including Yvonne Daly, who were excited that the store was opening and that they thought the food was delicious.

This it the 11th location of the Boulange in the bay area.

View Larger Map

Weapons

2009-11-18T11:29:00.000-08:00

If you want to put faces to some of the characters in In Cold Blood, there are some super old photos on this WebSite. There is some pretty graphic stuff in some of these shots. I think it's better that Capote describes things like the murder scenes and evidence in his style. It's way better than seeing pictures of them. He describes them so well that when you see the photo, it's sort of anticlimactic. Imagining a bloody footprint is completely different from seeing an actual photograph of one.

The purpose for them being taken was so they could be used as evidence. If the killers would have smudged their footprints or used a mop and bucket, could they have gotten away with it?

There are portraits of the Clutter family and mug shots of Hickock and Smith. I totally imagined what they all looked like while reading, and when I saw what they actually looked like I was pretty surprised. Kenyon looks like a pretty big guy. It's seems hard to understand how they were all tied up without a fight, but with a .12 gauge shotgun in your face, it's not very easy to stand up for yourself.

When I was 15 or so, one of my best friends held a knife to me and I was totally trembling. My entire body would not stop shaking no matter how hard I tried to settle down. I was just not in control and that feeling is one of the most frustrating things to deal with. If she was carrying a shotgun, I probably would have shit my pants. It's a really long story, and I'll tell you about it in person if you really want to know.

My journey for MEET1

2009-11-09T13:05:00.001-08:00

View My trip for MEET1 in a larger map

Here's a map on my treacherous journey through Bayview for my MEET1 story. At the end of the map I talk about Archbishop Franzo king picking me up. Here's the story about that:

King asked me to get into his car, as walking through the projects this late could pose a problem to my livelihood. He remembered I was from SF State.

"Man, if State is rolling, then I know we're doing something! You can lock me up but we got cubs in the Bushes, to quote Marcus Garvey," King said.

Also while riding, he reminded me of the legality of all of this. He told me that he actually doesn't have a license and that he shouldn't be driving.

"But we're some triple OGs. I'm just letting you know while you roll with us."

I appreciated his cordiality. While driving he asked me how I felt about Obama. I told him that I voted for change and I'm still awaiting the results of that, his credit card policies excluded.

"That's what I'm saying," he said. "I knew I wasn't the only one through with change. You hear about a black man getting harassed outside his house and then invite the cops over for beers, and then have the nerve to call Kanye West a jackass? Please."

He was referring to the Harvard professor Henry Louis Gates Jr. who had a run in with the Massachusetts Police in July.

He dropped me off and told me to have a great day.

What a day that was.

I HAIGHT the rain, and I HAIGHT Comcast.

2009-11-09T13:00:00.000-08:00

Photo Courtesy of: carynorsworthy.com

View Larger Map

The Internet was disconnected at my house. Scary sentence to read, I know. The stupid Comcast guy, let’s call him Idiot Bob, “accidentally” cut the “wrong internet wire.” This truly couldn’t have happened on a worse day. Not only did I have multiple online reading assignments due the next day, but I was also expecting e-mails from sources for my CRIME story, and a Comcast technician wasn’t going to be able to come to my house to reconnect the wires for two and a half days. Awesome.
What I thought was a disaster actually turned out to be a great experience for me.
I try my best to do as much research as possible out on “the field” instead of digging for clues on the Internet (any journalist would agree that the couch potato technique doesn’t provide nearly as many interesting experiences). Despite the heavy rain, I braved the 40-minute bus ride into the Haight district to search for sources for my CRIME story, which is about the recent ban on the opening of any more head shops in Haight for the next three years.
To my surprise, there were just as many people walking around in the pouring rain as I have usually seen on a nice clear day.
I guess the rain brought me some good luck, because most of the merchants I spoke with were more than happy to talk to me, one of them being Jim Siegel who has owned a smoke shop called Euphoria Distractions since 1976. After speaking with him for a bit, I soon learned that he was the merchant that went to District 5 Supervisor Ross Mirkarimi and asked for the ban to be introduced. I then learned that because of so many head shops already on Haight Street, Siegel’s business at Distractions has hit a low, and he will be going out of business within the next eight months. Ouch.
I learned of some of the shops that Siegel felt were unnecessary on the street, and also spoke to the owners of those shops as well, who, funny enough, also felt there were more smoke shops on the street than need be.
Conflicting ideas that are in agreement at the same time….interesting.
Either way, I finally got the Internet back up, and it was nice to be able to check my e-mails, so I could read ones from potential sources saying that they didn’t want to speak with me on the matter. Double awesome.

The French Do It Best

2009-11-07T20:34:00.000-08:00

Alright, my initial profile story was supposed to be on Mrs. Dewson, who owns an extravagant hat store on Fillmore Street, but after waiting around for six hours for her to be my interviewee one Tuesday, with continuous hope from her assistant Myriette, she bailed. So I was forced to hit the ground running sniffing out some other potential story. It was then when I remembered a magical, petite French bakery on the corner of Fillmore and Bush streets called Patisserie Delanghe.

Patisserie Delanghe is owned by Dominique Delanghe and his wife, Marie-Jeanne, and the bakery has supplied residents the alluring confections for the past 23 years. There was something about the couple that was just as entrapping as the pastries and cakes that filled the counters. A “je ne sais quoi” quality. After sitting around in the bakery sipping on coffee and devouring a couple of their meticulous creations, I asked the couple a bunch of questions about their business.

Throughout the interview, it was really interesting because during the bombardment of questions, I couldn’t help but feel that they seemed a bit disengaged with my cause. Soon enough, I came to the realization that the couple was just a bit more indifferent with me because they were private people who didn’t feel that their stories were very newsworthy. They were both immigrants from the Loire Valley in central France and have been married for 35 years and want nothing more than a simple life together. The Delanghes had a humble country demeanor that infected me almost instantaneously.

Furthermore, the pastries were fatally scrumptious. One could tell that Delanghe was no amateur at his craft but a master of his trade. And he was happy to be doing it, which was refreshing to see because after being turned down at least twice by Mrs. Dewson and by at least two other potential subjects, my confidence hit record low.

I remember thinking before I got to this interview at the Patisserie Delanghe that, at least where I was in Lower Pacific Heights, everybody wants to do something in the world but nobody wants to talk about it. Is that just me running into this problem or are you guys getting shut out too? I had felt so defeated and worn, even the Catholic church that I used to attend didn’t want to give me something to work with. Thank God the pieces came together in the end though. And I feel lucky to have been able to count on the Delanghes for being the subjects of my profile story because I was so lost. Or as you say in French, “je suis perdu.”

View Larger Map

(image from Allison J.)

One Dollar Thefts

2009-11-07T14:38:00.000-08:00

Oct. 29, 2009

In my search for crime, I decided to walk into the Dollar Market on Market Street. The small but assorted convenient store is a family owned business that opened this July.

The store’s manager, Jawad Al, has lived in Sunnyvale since he left Afghanistan in 1995. I met him in September when we were assigned STREETLIST.

The store had only been open for two months and Al was already telling me about the numerous thefts that occurred every week.

Al told me he found seven items in a woman’s bag one day, which prompted him to introduce a rule. The rule asks customers to exchange their handbags and backpacks for a black shopping bag before they enter the store.

Wednesday evening, I spoke with Betslot, an employee at the Dollar Market since it opened, and learned about two thefts that had happened the day before over a one-hour period.

“I think prisons are full and that’s why the police don’t take the thieves,” Betslot said about people who steal merchandise at least once a week. The thieves are usually homeless men and women who want to earn some extra cash, said SFPD Officer P. Ruetti.

According to Betslot, a woman accompanied by a man stole a roll of tape Tuesday at 2 p.m. Betslot said the woman hid the tape under her armpit and ran out. “I saw her take it,” she said.

The security guard chased, caught, and searched the woman but the item was not found in her possession. Betslot thinks the woman handed the tape to someone outside of the store.

The police wasn’t called. Betslot said, “The person is only banned from our store.”

An hour later, another woman was caught trying to steal three pencil eyeliners and sunglasses. “We called the police and he wrote a report,” Betslot said.

Ode to the Homeless

2009-11-05T22:44:00.000-08:00

The Tenderloin can be such a depressing place sometimes. Throughout the streets I see the saddened eyes of lost loves, lost houses, lost family, lost jobs, lost dignity, lost inspiration. People who are at there wits end, just waiting and hoping for their next meal, their next crack rock, their next drink. On every block of every street there's an army of panhandlers that would bankrupt me in ten minutes were I to give every person what they asked.

I tried to be superman when I first moved to the city, giving money to most of all whom asked, helped out old ladies being harassed on the bus, listened to every drug-induced homeless man who just wanted someone to listen to them. It was fascinating to me at first; when I was just a tourist watching the chaos that is San Francisco.

The people I see in the Tenderloin were at first a statistic of homelessness and drug addiction; just nameless ghosts roaming the streets, having no purpose or cause. They were all categorized in my mind as a lump of people down-and-out because they made bad choices throughout life and ended up on the streets. There was no attachment to these people; no real empathy.

But after spending numerous hours not just in the city, but the Tenderloin specifically, that's changed. The novelty of city life has worn off and been replaced with dystopian shock. These people are really suffering as individuals. Each face I see is an individual who lost control of there life and succumbed to life on the streets. And even more, I see the same people over and over and witness their suffering on an ongoing basis. I personally know a handful of them and have heard their stories from beginning to end on how they got to where they are.

One woman has sat in front of my work everyday for the past year trying to peddle her "Street Sheets" for a dollar each. At first I was surprised she was selling Street Sheets; she looked so well put together. She had nice, clean clothes, looked healthy, pretty, and even kind of wholesome. She looked like she should be at home making her kids some after-school sandwiches.

Over the past year she has gone from an average looking woman to a decrepit and withered human skeleton. I'm not exactly sure what she's been up to, but I've seen the deteriorating results on a weekly basis. She is noticeably less healthy everytime I see her. It's one of the sadist things I've ever seen.

But I did witness a ray of happiness in the TL today while photographing a mural painting being installed on Market Street. During the three hours I was photographing the half completed Mural the response of the community was quite uplifting. Numerous people from all walks of life actually stopped and told the artist how glad they were to have such a beautiful piece of art (which is a 100-foot wall) in their neighborhood.

People were pointing, smiling and complementing the piece the whole time. Families would stop to look at the vibrant colors radiated from the mural; businessmen would stop to take a picture with their iphones; some homeless people were congregating together, 40's in hand, and sporadically interjecting affirmations to the artist about how great their neighborhood is going to look now. The art seemed to bring the community together, coalescing them through vibrant colors and creativity.

Of course having a few pieces of art in an otherwise dreary stretch of Market Street isn't going to cure problems of social inequality or give a homeless man a job, but it has certainly elevated the residents state of mind and pride in their community.

Brenda Meets the Tenderloin

2009-11-05T15:19:00.000-08:00

Oct. 28, 2009

Yesterday was my first time walking through the Tenderloin. The Tenderloin Elementary School stood on Turk Street only a few businesses away from a childcare center.

Hispanic mothers and their children shared the sidewalks with men and women who yelled hysterically and flipped each other out. According to data, the Tenderloin has the largest population of children and by 2008, it counted with more than sixty liquor stores.

Neither the women’s nor the children’s eyes expressed fear. Their familiarity to the environment made me angry and sad. I could see my mother through the woman who crossed the street with a baby in a stroller. I could see my 5-year-old self through the little girl who held on tightly to her mother’s arm and wore a pink dress with a jean jacket.

On my way to the Tenderloin Police Station, I met Police Officer Yee who was parked on Market Street. I waved at him and he rolled his window down. He asked if I had a question or if I needed help.

“Hello, my name is Brenda Reyes and I’m a student at San Francisco State. I have a few questions regarding crime in the neighborhood,” I told him.

“Oh,” he said. “I can’t help you at the moment because I’m patrolling the buses, you know, making sure people don’t cause disturbances.” So he directed me to my original destination. “Be careful,” he cautioned. ”The station is not located in the best of areas.”

I smiled and thanked him, trying to hide the fear he had engrained in my mind. I took Leavenworth Street and turned right on Eddy Street. Three officers held riffles in their hands as they walked in and out of the station.

I walked in to the station intimidated. I walked out frustrated. All I could get was a phone number. With one bar left in my phone I decided to go home.

At the Civic Center Muni Station I spoke with officer P. Ruetti who’s been a San Francisco police officer for two years and part of the “Market Street Foot Beat” for the last two months.

Ruetti told me about thefts, which are common to businesses in the Civic Center, and narcotics, which constitutes a daily battle in both the United Nations and Civic Center Plazas.

Ruetti said the District Attorney won’t prosecute petty crimes because “It’s a waste of time and money to prosecute people who steal from $1 stores.”

A theft in items worth $400 and more is a felony, whereas one under $400 is a misdemeanor, I learned. According to Ruetti, the District Attorney doesn’t care about most marijuana cases when there are bigger crimes involving narcotics.

I arrived home on an empty stomach, with a dead cell-phone, and without a case number.

I still didn’t know what my crime story was going to be. But, I had a potential topic for the final assignment:

The Civic Center Park, children, drugs, and City Hall.

Hmmm…

The Tel-Hi's and lows of a student journalist

2009-11-03T17:51:00.000-08:00

I stumbled upon my midterm subject while looking for a meeting in North Beach. I read online that a group called the Friends of Tel-Hi would be holding a meeting at the Telegraph Hill Neighborhood Center on a Tuesday night in early October and decided to check it out. I was worried I’d be late and began preparing for the embarrassment that generally comes from sauntering into meetings 10 minutes late… To my surprise (and great relief), I was actually early- 24 hours early.

A member of the center's staff introduced me to Tel-Hi's director, Tim Daniels, who explained that the meeting was actually the next day but had been pushed back a week. Apparently the Friends decided to postpone and take a well-deserved break after the success of their first fundraiser, Breakfast for Books. After chatting briefly with Daniels about the center's stance on the controversy surrounding the possible renovation of the North Beach library (Tel-Hi's chosen to remain neutral so as not to alienate donors but keeps its doors open to community groups on both sides of the issue that wish to hold their meetings at the center), it occurred to me that Tel-Hi might make an interesting profile subject.

I googled the center when I got home and learned that it was founded by Grace Cathedral Sunday school teachers Elizabeth Ashe and Alice Griffith in 1890 and was one of the first settlement homes on the west coast. More than 100 years later, Tel-Hi continues reaching out to the community through its preschool, K-5 after school academy, summer camp, teen leadership, and senior programs, as well as a partnership with North Beach Place. Each day, Tel-Hi serves approximately 600 members of the North Beach and China Town communities ranging from age two-and-a-half to 102 (and "everyone in between," according to Daniels).

I spent the weeks that followed milling around Tel-Hi in my spare time, trying to observe as much as I could. Two of my more memorable visits involved sitting in on meetings of the North Beach Neighbors and the Friends of Tel-Hi, neither of which involved any direct contact with Daniels- yet the day I stopped by to find out if I might be able to ask him some questions, or if he'd prefer to be interviewed via e-mail, he commented on my persistence and jokingly referred to me as being "like a fungus."

Needless to say, I wasn't particularly amused, especially since he went on to suggest numerous times that I volunteer at the center/write for their newsletter. I get that he thought he was being funny, but I didn't enjoy feeling like my attempt to bring attention to such an interesting facet of the community was a bother. It didn't help that he seemed semi-suspicious of my motives every time he asked what this was for/what my angle was. I suffered further disappointment when I learned that in order to speak to the children who participate in Tel-Hi's programs, I'd have to secure a release and be supervised by a third party. I got the impression Daniels wasn't too keen to go through this particular process for the purpose of my midterm.

In spite of the aforementioned setbacks, I was ultimately happy with the interviews I got. My story didn't turn out the way I expected it to, but I still feel like I managed to shine a light on a deserving organization.

Crime Report

2009-11-01T22:54:00.000-08:00

So in a few words: I found out why there aren't many cops in China Basin...They're all in North Beach, at least on Saturday nights. Especially on Halloween.

San Francisco's finest working overtime to keep the peace. A hard job (ha ha) but, you know the rest...

Something From Nothing

2009-10-29T09:38:00.000-07:00

I was sitting in Union Square last weekend drinking coffee, reading a copy of the Street Sheet and thinking to myself, "oooh la-la," when I got an unexpected call from my Aunt, who with my Uncle was in town for the night to see Steely Dan. They were totally lost trying to find their way to their hotel off the square. "Hey, alright," I thought to myself as I headed off toward the Barbary Coast Trail (Maiden Lane) to connect with the 'F' streetcar on Market Street and meet them at the Ferry Building.

Street Sheet is sold for $1 as an alternative to panhandling

I'd given up trying to find more folks to talk to that could give some balance to this Tonga thing, especially since I wasn't really up for scaling Nob Hill and I'm quite frankly sick of tiki and rum. I'd decided that I was going to shift and take care of this crime story, but wandering around trying to think of ideas really wasn't doing me any good.

Mayor Gavin Newsom talks to reporters about, among other things, his Market Street plan

I'm such a lucky guy, though. One weekend I come across Barack Obama's motorcade and on another I'm stumbling upon this fella on Market Street talking about this completely preposterous (and decades-old) plan to close Market Street to all traffic, including eventually the 30 or 40-something MUNI lines that use it. The way he described this plan (including tables, chairs and benches in what was once the street) made it sound like this was one of those classic 2 a.m. rays of brilliance. I started to wonder if thoughtcrime was something I could hinge my next story on.

This detour, of course, made me late to meet my Aunt and Uncle but eventually I got there. It was okay that I was late because they went from the Golden Gate Bridge to the Ferry Building by way of Noe Valley and arrived 15 minutes after me. Over dinner, we talked about this reporting class I'm in, the story about Tonga and me trying to find street crime in Russian Hill.

The median home price in this section of Russian Hill is roughly $1.5 million.

I told my Aunt and Uncle about the mayor and how I took a bunch of pictures. My Uncle thought the Market Street plan sounded a little silly too. He told me about this (also decades-old) plan to close a huge section of my home town's main drag and "reunite the square," making a really nice promenade for pedestrians but I guess they can't get that passed because the city's transit operators won't have it–I think that city has something like 14 bus lines.

It was suggested that I just strong-arm someone then write about it, but for some reason that idea still isn't sitting right with me. What did more sensibly come up though were those "no valuables inside" signs everyone has on their cars in the neighborhood, especially in Russian Hill. It seems that such a well-to-do neighborhood would have equally well-to-do cars with all sorts of valuables inside to steal so it's a hot spot for vehicle break-ins, which is definitely a starting point.

After dinner, we parked and hiked back to their hotel, yadda-yadda-yadda, I taught them how to hail a cab, and they were off to the show.

So the evening was productive and ended up being a lot of fun. I put the profile to bed, thought for a few minutes about the crime story, pictured a Market Street that looked something like Van Gogh's "Café At Night" only with more tables and protesters, had a nice dinner that I wasn't expecting and even got a new pair of jeans and another coffee.

Good times.

China Basin's Secret Treasure

2009-10-28T23:41:00.000-07:00

What I really found on my early-morning visit: some of the sights and scenes in the harbor don't make for a pretty story. Here's the nice part of my original write-up:

"An early-morning visit reveals the peculiar charm of the harbor’s hodgepodge of houseboats, which seem exempt from the building codes most people suffer. Twinkling lights on the surrounding waters lend an unreal sense of isolation to the place, and the gently rocking planks underfoot add to the feeling of fantasy. Alone in the crowd of rigid earthbound freeway overpasses and apartment buildings, the little harbor dwellings that drift with each wave give off a strange sense of permanence that the earthbound structures lack.

Little homey touches lend a sense of the past to the dock. Potted geraniums and barbecue pits are among the many signs of the channel’s lively population. Wind chimes and other ornaments sway and tinkle, catching the light and wind that change with each day. It’s no wonder the population of Mission Bay is on the rise. Channel resident Corinne Woods says most of the area’s 350 children are under the age of five; that’s why a neighborhood group (missionbayfamilies.org) is working on building a playground.

Residents of the houseboat community love their home in spite of the sewage-pumping station that still exists at the head of the channel. They formed the Mission Creek Harbor Association in 1974 in response to a Port official’s illegitimate attempt to evict the residents from their berths. With the help of the local media the residents preserved Mission Creek Harbor’s enduring independent spirit—the hidden jewel of China Basin."

And here's a retrospective thought or two:

Perhaps the spirit of independence thrives on the rich methane and sulphur fumes that drift and mingle on the surface of the water. The odd odor adds to the weird atmosphere of a place where even the laws of nature don't seem to apply... Old paddleboats and an occasional float from a marine parade rest in unoccupied berths.

A strange relationship rarely seen in nature grows between a carnival float and old tugboat

What's more, I found you have to be careful where you lock up your bike around the harbor. I got back to my bike "Mission Bay Visitor Center" just in time to save it from a private security guard who proceeded to give me the third degree, asking for my name and ID and telling me "This is private property," and other BS... It seems there's a lot of private security in China Basin since the police don't go there much. I was still glad I'd left the bike outside the locked dock area, though. Once you go past the gates and down the ramps to the docks, you're "not in Kansas anymore." City and district maps draw their borders at the edge of the waterline and it could be that maritime law applies once you're off dry land.

Treasure Island Meeting

2009-10-28T23:32:00.000-07:00

Only a few concerned citizens attended the Sep 30 Police Commmision meeting on Treasure Island, where police commissioners and officers outnumbered the public in attendance. Captain Daniel McDonagh, Commanding Officer of the Southern station, presented his Chief's Report and the public was allowed to address the commission.

One of those citizens was Bayview resident Ruby Brown, whose grandson Jarvis L. Baker's 2000 murder still remains unsolved.

Another person remarked on the need for consensus regarding the confusing zoning of the police districts.
The department acknowledges the need for a better distribution of patrols in its District Boundaries Assessment found on the SFPD website. The shortcomings of the current districting system are clearly evident in the neglected China Basin area. Although China Basin is part of Supervisorial District 6, it is policed by District 10-area’s overworked Bayview Station police force. China Basin is one of the few parts of District 6 excluded from Southern Station’s patrol area.

China Basin resident Corinne Woods later confirmed the scarcity of SFPD patrols there, and said that residents’ safety sometimes depends on private security forces such as the guards at UC’s medical center.

As of today neither the minutes from the meeting nor the Chief’s Report were available online.

Everyone thinks murals are good

2009-10-28T21:44:00.000-07:00

There was this dude painting a mural. I started asking him some questions and told him I was an SF State student. He said that some other SF State students had interviewed him and recorded him painting the other day. I wonder what their story was about. Either way I was trying to see if I could get some community members to give me their thoughts about the mural. Everyone that walked by would stop and examine the artist at work, tell him he's doing a good job, and keep walking. I stopped a MUNI driver walking by, asked him if he was into it, and he said, "It looks good," and it was awkward. I didn't really know what else to ask the guy. So after he left, I thought that the rest of the responses I would most likely get would be "It looks good," and "Yeah I think it's good for the community." It didn't seem likely that anybody would answer, "I think this mural sucks." So I stopped trying to get varying points of view about it.

There is one person (or maybe a few) though that paints over parts of the mural with white paint. This is the third time the muralist, Jason, has had to repaint the same section on the corner of Santa Rosa Avenue and Mission Street. The person hits the same place over and over and only paints over the Latino family in the mural.

I continued to interview the muralist and we heard this small bang like a car rear-ended someone. It was just the sound of a traffic cop's door slamming. A car behind him was trying to squeeze around. The traffic cop said, "Now watch this guy cut me off." So we watched.

Hunting down the Tamale Lady

2009-10-28T11:00:00.000-07:00

(Photo: Chronicle/Liz Hafalia)

I first introduced myself to Virginia Ramos, a.k.a. the Tamale Lady, back in August when we were assigned Streetlist1. I knew then that she was the person I wanted to do my profile on.

Naturally, I hunted her down at Zeitgeist. It was warm Friday evening and the bike racks were full. I had to wait in a line just to get in. Once inside I spotted Virginia standing in the crowd.

Virginia was extremely nice and happy to divulge her telephone numbers and address; no email, however, as she does not have a computer.

I let her know my story was not due until later in the semester and that I would be in touch.

When it came time to interview Virginia, I had a hard time contacting her on the phone. My cell phone is restricted for some reason (this took months of non-returned phone calls for me to figure out) and I had a feeling this was why Virginia was not returning my calls.

I left several messages on both her home and cell numbers, but to no avail. I decided to change my subject last minute .

The day after our draft was due, Virginia called me back. She left a message saying she had been extremely busy, but that she would like to help me. When I called back, I left another message on her home answering machine. As I was about to hang up, I heard Virginia say, "Hello?"

She told me she does not answer restricted numbers, something about people relentlessly bugging her, so she waited until she heard my message before picking up. We made plans to meet later in the week at Zeitgeist, when it was convenient for me, as she did not want me to rearrange my work schedule for her.

Speaking with Virginia in person reminds me of my grandmother. She is welcoming and honest. She answered ever question I asked without the slightest hesitation. She also made me feel comfortable, referring to me as "baby."

It is not hard to see why everyone loves her. Not only are her tamales "fabulous", as Zeitgeist security Jerry Bricker put it, but she is extremely caring, passionate and funny.

The general attitude of most Zeitgeist employees is rude, loud and pushy. In a strange way, Virginia is reminiscent of a den mother, calm and sweet to soften the harsh edges.

Every Ordinary Person Has an Extra Ordinary Story to Tell

2009-10-28T10:50:00.001-07:00

My subject for my profile story is Seiko Fujimoto who works in a store that sells traditional Japanese products. I will not lie if I found her almost accidentally. You probably heard her story in class last time and thought how fascinating her story was. And how lucky I was to be able to find a great subject. But really… the truth behind that is I never thought she had that story in her.

Everything about Fujimoto was ordinary except of her blue hair, of course. She was the first person that I talked to in Japantown when the semester started. She was outspoken although from the outside, she may not look like that.

I spent three full days following her literally everywhere. I went to a merchant meeting with her. I hang out at her store after her lunch until it was time for her to go home. She was a really interesting person, I will say. I admit I am guilty for forgetting my role as a student journalist. I was too absorbed in her story sometimes that I forgot to write down her story. A good thing, I brought my flip camera with me so I can record her story.

I am learning from my interviews with her. I learned about Japanese culture (I even had to go to a kabuki performance so I can understand her more). I learned to never think of someone as ordinary. I learned that every person has an interesting story within him/her. I enjoyed this learning process except of one thing: I learned to ask questions I dislike.

I knew it was hurt for her to remember the deaths and the war but what kind of story can I write if I did not know the whole story? I did not think I can do her story justice if I only understand her and her story partially. I had to constantly remind myself: “Ask her, ask her. You’re here to write her story.” It was really hard for me to ask those difficult questions like: “What do you think about Japan after the war?” or “Do you want to go back to Japan despite of all that painful memories?” I was afraid at one point she would break into tears but that never happened because she's a strong woman. I knew it's silly but the one who felt like crying was me. It was hard for me to stay objective too when she was so opened and kind to me.

All in all, I think she’s a unique lady. Fujimoto is a lady with attitudes. It is hard not to have sympathy for her at all because she is so brave, wise and strong. She is a person you can admire but not to hate.

D.I.Y. (dirtbag it yourself)

2009-10-27T21:34:00.001-07:00

It has been a little while since I have wet my whistle at some of the bars in Noe Valley. I have been busy working on a story out in hunters point that has introduced me to some pretty...., hmm whats the right word.... something like the opposite of moms with strollers.
The article I am working on is about a competition where contestants have 30 days to build a custom motorcycle for less than $1000. It's called the DirtBag Challenge. I pitched the story to a local motorcycle magazine, and I am working Spencer Morris, a fellow SFSU journalism student, to profile some of the teams/builders in the competition. We thought that that would be a much better idea than just covering the event, plus somehow I got the "profile on a person" idea stuck in my head. Spencer and I did most of the research together and I shot portraits of each person we profiled. I have included one I liked but didn't use of Turk. This was a pretty rad project! The guys I met had a very fresh and inspirational take on life that I feel like I haven't been exposed to much lately. Well actually it was more like a 3 sheets to the wind attitude, but it really worked well, Especially for Turk. Now that guy was a character, as you can see from the photo. Turk never gave me a last name, but he said he got the nick name Turk because he "is the guy who can get you what you need, no matter what or how." Then there is Paul, or Poll which is his nickname because its how his name sounds when pronounced with his british accent. Poll is one of the founding guys for the dirtbag challenge and is seen below with the gasoline. Poll is a loud, crass, son-of-a-bitch, and I enjoyed every second of it. He is extermely charasmatic and though he started the dirtbag challenge with friends, it is pretty much his competition now, and he has done a great job of keeping it going for seven years now.

here is a link to the website, and look for the article and my photos in the upcoming Urban Moto and Xpress magazines. http://dirtbagchallenge.com/rules.htm

click on the photos to see them bigger

the map is of Poll's shop, Turk's is across the street.

View Larger Map

"Yo Momma!"

2009-10-25T20:17:00.000-07:00

Finding a subject in Upper Haight for the PROFILE midterm assignment was simple. I've met many interesting people in the area, and usually meet at least one new person every time I take the 35-minute trip over there from my house.
Barnaby Williams was one of the first people I introduced myself to on Haight St. He is the owner of Mom's Body Shop at 1408 Haight St, where he is also a tattoo artist.
Barnaby was extremely welcoming when I first walked into the shop, and all nerves of mine went away as soon as we sat in the front of the shop and he began to tell me all about opening up the shop in 1991 and how he feels about running a business in the area.
As soon as I called to let him know I was interested in writing on specifically him for our midterm assignment, he wasn't hesitant at all.
One of the aspects of his personality that stuck out the most to me when I first met him was his persona of a self-proclaimed "momma's boy." It was crazy to see this heavyset man, covered in tattoos from ankle to neck and picture him as a sensitive momma's boy, since I usually associate that title with a vision completely different.
Through more interview he told me more about his relationship with his mother, how they both have an interest in art, his parent's divorce, and his growing up in Palo Alto but being a punk-rock troublemaker with tattoos in high school.
I kept asking more and more about his mom, and realized this story would be nothing if I didn't have some quotes from the main character in his life: Mom.
This was when I ran into a problem with this assignment. I hadn't even finished asking if I could possibly speak to his mother before he was shaking his head no.
"She doesn't speak to the press," he said.
In response to this, I assured him that I am a student journalist, and this is a class assignment. He was hesitant, but said he'd call his mom. I got to the tattoo shop for a final interview a few days ago, and he finally called his mom, who allowed me to have her phone number for contact.
She had such a sweet voice, complete with an adorable British accent. I got some great quotes from her, and loved how highly she spoke of her soon and his artistic talents.
Overall, I am looking quite forward to turning in this assignment.

Have any of you had a problem with possible sources not really wanting to talk to you because they "don't speak to the press?" How did you handle it? What was the outcome?

View Larger Map

2009-10-20T18:51:00.001-07:00

A High-Potential market

2009-10-19T19:36:00.001-07:00

A "High-Potential" Market

I've spent two Sundays at the Heart of the City Farmers Market.

The market has been at the United Nations Plaza for the past 26 years. According to San Francisco residents, the produce at this market is more cheap and fresh compared to the rest in the city.

From experience, I guarantee you'll leave the plaza with something more than fruit, vegetables, and popcorn. Last Sunday, a man played music in his guitar.

Yesterday, a man in lavender pants and a blue jacket performed songs from the 1960s rock band the Young Rascals in his keyboard.

Life would be ecstasy, you and me endlessly...
Groovin'... on a Sunday afternoon

The music was pleasing. But nothing beats the warm welcome that Adrian Alatorre gives to his clientele.

He actually learned how to say "hello" and "take it" in Hindi, French, Chinese, and Tagalog, a common language spoken in the Phillipines.

He said the Heart of the City Farmers Market is "high-potential" because the produce is cheaper and there is a greater diversity among people. A silver cash box is the notepad he looks at to recall one of his foreign greetings.

Most of the time, he walks to and fro behind his booth holding grapes as he shouts, "It's delicious, it's nutritous, you won't believe your mouth." Then he follows with my favorite, "Try before you buy, don't be shy." I couldn't stop laughing.

Alatorre is a personality you don't want to miss; His charisma is charming. Take a look at what he wrote on his sign.

Alatorre has been doing farmers markets for thirteen years. He's been at the Civic Center's market for three.

Don't forget next time you're at the Heart of the City Farmers Market to stop by Mora Farms' booth and "Have a taste to be amazed," as Alatorre would suggest.

Folsom St. Fair a Guaranteed Good Time

2009-10-18T20:44:00.001-07:00

Today's unnecessary plug of the day is brought to you by Bear Party Magazine, because who doesn't like bears and who doesn't like parties?

I haven't been shooting for a while, and as a photographer that is a no no. To break the trend I decided to head to the Folsom St. Fair because I heard that there are a vast amount of picture opportunities. Now I have never technically been to the Folsom St. Fair but I have witnessed it one time early in my childhood. As a kid my family constantly visited my aunt in SF, and this trip my sister brought to bring her two best friends. They were probably in 8th grade, and to make a long story short my mom took a wrong turn and ended up on the street adjacent to Folsom. I still remember the reaction of the car when we witnessed two men dressed in leather start a full on make out session. Worst part...we were stuck at a red light.

I'm older now and I'm open to peoples sexuality. I entered the first barricade a sea of leather and flesh laid before me. The two main walkways were crowded with people in leather, leashes, and street cloths. It was a human gridlock. I tried to maneuver my way through the crowd I kept my eyes forward at the next intersection to change my camera lens. After the quick change I walked to a crowd of people dressed in street cloths who were watching a women being whipped. All the good spots were took up by other photographers so I turned around to walk out of the circle of people. As I turned around a I saw the most mind fucking thing ever. Just thinking about it makes it hard to write a grammatically correct sentence. A mental picture of this event will forever be ingrained in my head. I note this next sentence is not for the weak of heart..............

Standing right before me was a man standing in the power pose. No he didn't have a guitar in his hand. Instead he had his ramrod, and with his man meat in hand he played it like he was Ted Nugent. I turned looked to my right and there was a man with his iphone filming this act of chicken choking.

Although I was shaken by what I had just seen I soldiered it out and went on to take some pictures of the fair. Everything else I saw during my trip to the fair was tame. Except the sight of an older naked woman smoking a cigarette and sitting spread eagle. After a good two hours of walking In the Valley of Penises I got a couple of decent photos and a one mental image that will last me a lifetime.

How the West Lost its Harlem

2009-10-12T17:56:00.000-07:00

Amidst the many resurfacing projects the Tenderloin and Fillmore districts have undergone a budding jazz culture once existed. Beginning in the 1930’s jazz clubs began growing both in their popularity and numbers with many popping up in the primarily poor Black neighborhoods of the Fillmore and Tenderloin Districts.

The forced change these neighborhoods have undergone ripped this budding cultural scene out by the roots leaving nearly no trace of the area previously known as “the Harlem of the West”. Amidst the growing culture of the area during the 1940’s there was a dramatic influx of Blacks into the neighborhood resulting in a ten-fold increase between the years of 1940 and 1950. During this time more than 2-dozen Jazz clubs could be found packed into Fillmore Street.

Though popular jazz clubs of the area included the New Orleans Swing Club, Bop City, Plantation Club, Jack’s Tavern of Sutter St, Havana Club, and the Booker T Washington Hotel perhaps none were more popular than the Tenderloin’s Black Hawk Night Club.

“I spent many happy hours there in 1960, listening to Miles, Cal Tjader, and others,” recalls Jon Foley writing in an online forum, ”I still have the smoke and dust in my lungs to prove it! But it was definitely worth it.”

In 1959 at the peak of this cultural wave the Black Hawk found itself able to pay $3,000 for their nightly jazz acts compared to the meager $300 they were able to offer the previous year. During its 14-year-reign as the place to be if you were a part of the scene live recordings were done by the greatest jazz musicians of the day including Thelonious Monk, Miles Davis, Billie Holiday and Cal Tjader.

“We thought we'd died and gone to heaven in that dark, smoke-filled room.” Commented Lorraine Jones to an article written on the Black Hawk Night Club.

However, its popularity didn’t save it from the unanimous fate jazz clubs in the area suffered as it was forced to close in 1963, and the building was demolished in the 1980s. The lack of identity and culture in the area may have led to the degradation of the community that has left these neighborhoods where they are today.

Previously the location of the Black Hawk Jazz Club near the corner of Turk and Hyde Streets where there is now a parking lot.

View Larger Map

In an effort to bring back the life lost with the areas musical heritage, the San Francisco Jazz Heritage Center and the Tenderloin Community Benefit District are working to help San Franciscans rediscover the historical significance.

The TCBD is compiling a list of first hand accounts of memories from the Black Hawk to be compiled and published in a historical account of the famous club. They are asking for anyone with an applicable experience get in touch with them via their website. http://www.nom-tlcbd.org/

The Jazz Heritage center has compiled educational material on the areas history, hosts related art showings, plans events to raise public understanding and even has a jazz club called Yoshi’s in their building at the corner of the streets Fillmore and Eddy.

Yoshi's Jazz club- http://sf.yoshis.com/sf/jazzclub

2009-10-08T22:16:00.000-07:00

Historic Event at the United Nations Plaza

Oct. 8, 2009.

Many visits to the Civic Center have caused me to develop an affinity for the United Nations Plaza. The affinity comes from the happiness, sadness, excitement, and frustration I've heard people express in their stories.

According to psychologists, people go insane to find the feeling of importance that has been denied to them in the harsh world of reality.

It's not only the homeless who refuge in the UN Plaza who are insane. Aren't we all hungry for appreciation and a feeling of importance?

I realized that criticism and judgement are our inevitable reactions to a person's feelings and world views. But understanding is more profitable and intriguing; especially in the world of journalism.

I'm grateful I've been able to chat with a diverse group of people at the plaza. It takes strong character- one I aspire- to put oneself in someone else's shoes with the intention to see the humanity, vulnerability, and fear that lives within all.

Because the event was taking place at the UN Plaza, I didn't hesitate to attend. I knew it would be worth it and intriguing.

*on a side note. sorry I didn't include pictures. my camera broke down*

I took the M to the Civic Center and set foot on the United Nations Plaza at 6:58 p.m. My black coat, pink mittens-yes, mittens, and scarf kept me warm. The night was cold and the sky was clear.

In the center of the United Nations Plaza, three rows of wooden chairs faced four microphones and two small speakers were placed on each side. The set-up was simple.

Across, the Civic Center Plaza was tented in plastic. A red carpet welcomed men in tuxedos and women in long dress-gowns. From the outside, I could hear a piano being accompanied by a cello and a violin.

A sudden boom had two police officers hastily walking toward City Hall on the corner of Larkin Street. I waited. Police Officer E. Linares said the disturbance was caused by a firecracker. I also learned from the officer that inside the plain white tents, the St. Anthony Foundation http://www.stanthonysf.org/home.html held an auction that would be followed by a fancy dinner to fundraise.

"She was only two months old and didn't even know her name,"

said Imam Suleiman Gali from the Islamic Society of San Francisco.

http://honorthedead.org/?page_id=2

Leaders from different faiths read eulogies for selected individuals who have died from malaria, tuberculosis, malnutrition, and AIDS around the world. A choir-composed of 13 adults- sang beautifully. The joyous singing symbolized a celebration for liberation. Liberation of the deceased from malnourishment, poverty, and violence.

Sister Chandru Desai from the Brahma Kumaris Meditation Center said, "We are souls, not only bodies." She invited the audience to join her chant. "Feel the air and the sky," she said. "Don't be shy, let us give their souls eternal peace."

I expected a big crowd, a sea of lighted candles, large speakers, and disturbances from the homeless who hang out at the plaza. A middle-aged homeless man approached the audience and yelled, "What the fuck is going on?" Then he approached me and whispered, "My step-father died from AIDS." He asked for a candle and after that, I lost sight of him.

Before I went down stairs to the station, I stood and stared at the plaza. It's amazing to think of everything that happens in that particular stop of my neighborhood.

Mondays, vendors offer souvenirs, hand-crafted jewelry, and everything from hats, bags, and sweaters with the words San Francisco embroidered, written, or glued.

Tuesdays, soup kitchens feed the homeless.

Wednesdays and Sundays, farmers from Fresno, Bakersfield and Modesto sell fruits, vegetables, nuts, and plants.

Unfortunately, drugs, crime, and violence don't respect the time of day or the day of the week.

2009-09-28T11:19:00.000-07:00

The Tonga Room, Updated

2009-09-28T09:55:00.000-07:00

There’s nothing better to focus your direction than sitting in traffic on that boring stretch of northbound 101 near Olompali State Park well after dark being interviewed by your Grandmother. From our conversation, it seems that she has been under the impression I spend most of my days (and most nights) walking up and down Market Street with a sign, but in explaining the details of the things I’ve been finding around my beat, I actually worked out exactly what I was aiming for.

A huge issue in the Russian Hill neighborhood is housing. Given that most homes are already paid for and there are relatively few vacancies, the city’s planning department has begun motions to put in a few mid-rise housing units. I dug around some and found an environmental impact report for this which included more detailed information on locations for these new buildings, one of which is slated to go up in place of the Fairmont Hotel’s auxiliary buildings which house a number of rooms, parking, and most notably The Tonga Room, a tiki bar that holds its own within San Francisco’s history.

Naturally, I had to check this place out. It’s true; their Mai Tais will knock you flat.

So after poking around, I discovered groups to save the Tonga Room, as well as the actual historical significance report commissioned by the city. With all the documented information I need, I started to poke around more—especially to better hammer out the ‘character’ of the place. I talked to a lot of people when I visited the Tonga Room, but I’ve discovered that alcohol can make journalism very difficult—from both perspectives.

There’s that lady that always grabs your arm when she talks to you, which seems common lately. She was a great conversation because she slurred out a bunch of stories about the Gold Rush era in San Francisco (she’s an historian and museum docent in the city), which were fascinating despite the fact that it really wasn’t getting at exactly what I was trying to.

I’ve found that these conversations that happen without notebooks or recorders are really useful, though. The information about how the neighborhood came into its own during the latter 19th century was not only interesting but it shed some light onto the character of the neighborhood, which otherwise comes off as “oooh la-la”.

“Opulent” I guess would be the word.

The goal now is to talk to more substantive sources such as real estate agents, more Tonga Room bartenders and patrons (maybe the doorman; the concierges haven't been terribly helpful), and tourists. As much as the San Francisco native historian can gush about a place because it’s their own, I love talking to people who come from many thousands, or even hundreds, of miles away because that perspective is always unique.

The Tonga Room holds their happy hour nightly from 5-7 p.m. with a menu that is surprisingly affordable given how exclusive the hotel is, it's well worth the hike to Nob Hill's summit.

In the past, there have been sit-in protests during this time to save the Tonga Room, and petitions have easily amassed the proper number of signatures. The only thing left now for supporters is to convince the city.

I, of course love the place too, and therein lies the ethical issue because I could very easily become involved with this story. I just like their Mai-Tais too much.

Dresses and Aliens

2009-09-24T12:46:00.000-07:00

After a long day of walking the streets of Hayes Valley I decide its time to eat. I remember going to Hayes Kebab spring semester during one of my photo shoots for photo 2. The thought of mediterranean made my mouth water, and I remember having a pretty dam good gyro there. I walked up to the window of the restaurant and became confused then angry. Hayes Kebab no longer existed. Instead of seats and glorious mediterranean food there were racks filled with frivolous dresses. I stood bewildered just staring into the window.

"Are you looking for something?" somebody asked from behind me.

It was an older man around my height and a heavier set. He explained to me that the store I had been looking into was filled with old dresses from the drag bar down the block. I told him no and proceeded to ask him questions about the neighborhood. I got some good stuff from him. He then asked me if I liked men. I told him no, sorry I like women. The man then told me how difficult it was to come out to his parents, and after that shit started to get deep.

Stories about how is grandma's spirit had visited him and told him to talk to his mother. How he saw spirits during his childhood, and then asked me if I had any experiences with aliens. I told him the truth that I've had dreams about them, but every kid who watches ufo hunters on TLC has had multiple dreams of ET. Apparently this guy has seen several ufo's and communicates telepathically with them. Throughout the conversation all I can do is nod my head and say wow, and sometimes that's crazy. Every time I said that's crazy I hoped I wouldn't provoke an attack from the man. After about thirty minutes of this he had to go to work. I went to shake his hand, but he went in for the hug. The guy had some great info about Hayes Valley, but that was a strange conversation.

Bayview

2009-09-23T21:47:00.000-07:00

"There's something different about this place."

That thought crossed my mind as I stepped of the 29 MUNI onto Paul and Third Streets. The sun blazed throughout the area as a cool breeze swept on by.

"Gorgeous," I thought.

The thing about Bayview is that it houses some of the best weather in the city. Not only that, it has the most open space in the city. It's quite amazing actually. If you ride down Jamestown Avenue to Candlestick park, a breath-taking view of the bay and red clay deposits appear. From first glance, down on this end of Third Street, Bayview appeared calm, cool and welcoming.

It wasn't until I walked about half a mile down, near Palou Street, where the notoriety that the district received came to life. Between Palou and Oakdale were people strewn about the streets, who looked high, drunk or both. Plenty of residents were openly drinking alcohol, passed out in front of the Bayview Opera House. It was a weird juxtaposition to have a building, filled with culture and a history of civil rights action, prefaced with drunk, haphazard people. SFPD looked on by across the street, anticipating an act.

The one thing that gets me about Bayview, and also the Western Addition (another historically Black neighborhood in San Francisco that I work by), is that police and surveillance is commonplace. In both places, cops are as numerous as actually residents, and it seems an uneasiness clings to the people here. A hopeless darkness seems to captivate their steps. And yet, despite this image, the Sun shows itself brilliantly across the neighborhood, almost as if to get hope to rise from the spirits of these people.

Trying to report above 0.08

2009-09-23T13:56:00.000-07:00

As requested by my teacher I went into Noe Valley trying to find contacts. I was looking for not just people to get business cards from, but people who will talk to me and want to tell me things I wouldn't think to ask. I think being comfortable with a person is a big part of that and there are a few different ways to do that such as: being similar to a person, appearing non threatening, being nice, lying to them (unethical), or just listening to them. I am sure there are plenty more but you get the point. So far the method that has worked for me is one I didn't list, getting drunk. Yep thats right, getting drunk. Some of the most sincere, unsolicited info I have received this semester was from the bartenders and regular patrons of Noe Valley's best known bars, the Dubliner and the Valley bar. Both are owned by the same person. These bars are where I find the diversity in a neighborhood normally filled with hypo-allergenic dogs and strollers. The hardest part about this is saying no. I have never been one to turn down a free drink, I believe it is rude. The bar partons of Noe Valley such as David Brennan are kind souls though, who will buy round after round. This can be good and bad. The good parts are: being drunk is fun, I talk to more people, and I get more info and leads. The bad parts are: I can't read my handwriting as well, if i leave the bar to do reporting I risk losing credibility if I wreak of booze, and I am usually over the limit to be driving home on my motorcycle. So if you have a neighbor hood with a local bar, which everyone should, check it out, but be SAFE.

BLOG 2

2009-09-22T00:23:00.000-07:00

I was wandering around Mission Street the other day trying to figure out a story to write for the reporting class. I saw a firefighter hanging out on his cell phone, so I tried to talk to him.
(When I go into random conversations, I leave it up to the other person to set the topic. Sometimes it's awkward.)
Either way, the firefighter told me that there was a meeting going on in the library, and I stumbled into it 40 minutes late. I caught the end of residents and police talking about traffic and graffiti.
I decided to do the story on graffiti, so I walked to a liquor store to ask the guy there how it affected him.
He told me about how some people use an acid solution to burn their tag into glass. It costs a lot to repair because you can't just wash it off; it becomes part of the glass. He has to replace the entire window if he wants it gone. Huge bummer.

Then I went to a bar.
A friend met me there and we didn't leave until 3 a.m.

My Voyage Through China Basin: An Odyssey of the Mind and Stomach

2009-09-21T23:50:00.000-07:00

My perilous journey began when I ventured South of Market one fine Sunday. The path to China Basin led through the notorious SOMA district known as South Beach, full of hazards like homeless sleeping under bridges, rowdy fans going to see the Giants, and most vile of all, the fearsome scuppie. There was a mass of the dreaded scourge at the Inne of The Brick House, but I girded my loins and claimed a table by the window. Needing strength for my venture, I decided on a scramble and soon found out why it was known as "The Odyssey." Over an hour after I was seated, the food arrived: tasteless eggs with bilgy spinach smelling as if it had voyaged for weeks in the hold of an old barge...

Since I'd survived meals that would kill most normal people, I ate it anyway, with no ill effects, then set out for China Basin proper. Just south of the Pac Bell Ballpark lies the gateway to the Realm of the Basin of China. The weight of a phantom portcullis seemed to hang over the old Third Street drawbridge, but I had no problem crossing to the enchanted region on my trusty dirtbike Goliath. The same dirt lots of olde met my eyes. What dark wizardry kept this valuable urban area looking like a freshly-covered landfill? I spent most of the day trying to pierce this mystery and here's what I found:
The Good:
This summer the Giants had a fair. A+
Plenty of parking at the waterfront bars. B-
No cops to interfere with the homeless people. C+

Photo by Marcie Franich

The Bad:
Sewage treatment center in central location. F+
This area really is a landfill. D-
Best bar in the area too far from ballpark. C-

The Indifferent:
The scuppies of the South Beach area unofficially "own" this area, referring to it mockingly as China Basin (flush) or "Dogpatch" although its name on most maps is Mission Bay. City officials seem unable to carry out any of the many and varied development plans that could have made this dangerous area more safe to unsuspecting visitors.
If you wish to view the vast untamed tracts of virgin landfill, never-before bartered by unscrupulous speculators, seek the favor of Dago, the Dark Knight of the Basin. Sir Dago is a welder who's worked in the Basin since before the shipyards closed and knows all the hidden charms of this ensorcelled stronghold.
Best-of-the-Basin Award:
My journey ended when I discovered a homey little place known as The Ramp (855 China Basin Street). They had a great Brazilian Zydeco band that day. Forró Brazuca plays some awesome tunes. The food was also edible and a good time was had by All and Sundry:

Zydeco Sunday at The Ramp

Ciao, bella!

2009-09-21T23:24:00.000-07:00

I decided to swing by North Beach Saturday to check out the San Francisco Italian Athletic Club's Festa Coloniale Italiana, a FREE day of food, family and culture on Stockton between Union and Filbert. The festivities got underway at 11:30 a.m. but I arrived fashionably late (I'm sure showing up five hours late is fashionable somewhere in Italy) and found that the party was still in full-swing. The single block was flanked with merchants peddling Italian wares ranging from olive oil and red wine vinegar to murano glass jewelry. My personal favorite was a booth specializing in Italian license plate frames with slogans like, "There's no such thing as too much garlic" and "Italians never die, they just pastaway."

I eventually made my way over to the SFIAC's table where I met Jim Toland, a member of the club's board of directors. Turns out Toland studied journalism at SFSU, went on to write for the Chronicle and eventually returned to SFSU to teach reporting. SMALL world. I learned that the the 620 member SFIAC was founded in 1918 to give male Italian immigrants who came to North Beach looking for work a social outlet of sorts. Toland was quick to point out that the club welcomes "women and people of all backgrounds," a sentiment strongly supported by the diverse crowd that descended on Stockton that sunny (and eventually blustery) day.

Bella Ciao, an SF-based six piece band specializing in classic Italian tunes, was onstage by the time I made my way back toward Union. "Everybody’s Italian today! Are you feeling it San Francisco?" asked the lead singer. Her enthusiasm seemed to do very little to move the vast majority of festa-goers from their folding white seats. I suspect this had something to do with the vast quantities of pasta that had no doubt been consumed by the 5 o'clock hour. A less starch-stuffed crowd certainly wouldn't have been able to resist Bella Ciao's repeated requests to put their hands in the air.

Colombian Scumbag

2009-09-21T23:14:00.000-07:00

After bussing tables, running food and stocking sugar packets for eight solid hours at Caffe Museo, I began my victorious walk of freedom down Third Street to the Montgomery Train Station Saturday afternoon. I turned on Market Street to see the hustle and bustle of tourists and residents alike rushing here and fro. It was a sunny, beautiful day in San Francisco.

As I approach the stairs leading to the Muni trains, I notice two teenage girls ten feet ahead of me, and a short, stocky latino man following closely behind, but separate from them. Just before the 3 began their descent down the stairwell, the latino man quickly and aggressively stuck his hand between one of the girls legs and pulled up, grabbing her butt with enough intensity to temporarily lift her from the ground.

Obviously shocked and scared, the two girls made their way out of the Muni entrance, backing up against a 22-story building. Almost instinctually I stood in front of the man, stopping him from walking down the stairs, and asked him what the fuck he was doing; to which he replied in broken english, "Hey man, I'm drunk."

I looked to the girls as they stared at me with a dumbfounded look upon their faces, and asked them if they knew the man. "I've never seen him before in my life," the victim replied. For a moment I didn't know whether to tell this guy he's a piece of shit and go catch my train or to see the situation through. I saw tears beginning to stream down the little girls face and knew I didn't have a choice. I told them to call the police, which the did immediately.

I looked back at the man asking him the same question, receiving the same answer; "hey man, I'm drunk."

I said "That's no excuse. Look at them. They're just little girls. What if that girl was your daughter and I did that to her?"

The man seemed fairly responsive at first, admitting what he had done was wrong and that they should call the police. He said that he respected me for what I was doing and extended his hand to shake mine. I began to feel a slight sympathy for the man after he began taking personal responsibility for the situation, but refused to shake his hand anyway. He didn't seem to like that, and continued to negate any shred of sympathy I had for him.

"You want a bullet for your head.... my cousin is so-and-so from Colombia, he's crazy... fuck those stupid bitches...," and so on he went.

After ten minutes of being threatened my this drunk Colombian man, I saw him look over my shoulder to the police officers approaching on-foot. I had to smirk when I saw the glare of hatred in the cop's eyes before he plowed through the man, shoving him against nearby newsstands. The second cop came shortly after with the same look in his eyes and the same non-textbook style of apprehension.

I walked over to the two girls who were watching the arrest and asked them how old they were and where they were from. "16 - Berkeley."

The drunk Colombian was stuffed in the back of a squad car and hauled off to jail, for what I'm assuming is sexual assault.

One of the police officers took our information and detailed our report of the incident in his notebook. He told me I was going to be contacted by an inspector and that I could go. Just as I was leaving the victimized girl looked at me with her tear-filled eyes and said, "Thank you so much for helping us," and I was on my way.

A Taste for Pacific Heights

2009-09-21T18:55:00.000-07:00

So I tried the food out for size and it’s pretty damn good where I ventured to in Pacific Heights. I went to the Grove restaurant which is on Fillmore Street. It was a pretty nice vibe and everyone seemed pretty friendly and considerably happy so it made me considerably happy. The day was sunny and the streets were pedestrian populated so a friend and I sat outside and enjoyed a sufficient lunch. I got the cheese steak with onions and a refreshing, potent Chimay. I may have even gotten a little buzzed on the Chimay, which helped my attitude out a bit considering my meal alone was 17 dollars. ( I tried to copy and paste a picture of Chimay beer and it didn't work but you guys get the picture.)

I thoroughly enjoy hanging out in this neighborhood even though it hasn’t proven to be the most easiest neighborhood to report on because of the bourgeois that frequent the street. Yet, I can honestly say that the neighborhood is pretty cool. People smile a lot here which made me smile a little more. In fact, since everyone seemed to have shopping bags it kind of made me want to shop a little even. In a bizarre way, Pacific Heights has a contagious effect and I can see why people want to live around here although financially, it’s almost impossible.

Afterwards we walked to a park not to far away, Lafayette Park and it was awesome. It’s definitely a beautiful park tucked away in the city with an indescribable view and almost like a whole other part to explore at the top of the park. There was a playground and a tennis court, very different atmosphere than Dolores Park in the Mission district. It wasn’t very populated though on the side that were sitting, except for a guy chugging whiskey sitting a little behind us. I was actually surprised that I was surprised to see him there considering I hadn’t seen a single homeless person that whole time.

There’s a couple other spots that I would like to try out like Thai Stick and this one cool pizza joint, Dino’s, I think. I definitely have to make some stops in the Fillmore as well other than the frozen yogurt place I went to one night called Jubilee, which was so bomb. It’s brightly lit with an array of tasty options and it’s open late every night. All in all, as far as food goes, I have to say I am more than adequately satisfied with the all the options to appease my more than willing palette.

More Mission Adventures

2009-09-21T17:25:00.000-07:00

Last Tuesday, I attended the rededication ceremony for Community Thrift Store on 17th and Valencia. For seating, staff members arranged couches from the furniture section into a U-shape. A dining table was centered in the middle of the couches and filled with food from Il Fornaio. The store was open during the entire event and surprised shoppers helped themselves to the free food and booze.

Before the event started, I interviewed Jake Janzen, Community Thrift’s operations manager. While talking to him, we were approached by Gary Nathan, San Francisco Tavern Guild Foundation board member and publisher of San Francisco Spectrum. Nathan introduced himself and told me about his online news magazine. He also encouraged me to put on a nametag, so everyone would know who I was; despite my reservations, I obliged.

Nathan took me under his wing and then introduced to me Steven Rascher, San Francisco Tavern Guild Foundation board member president. My interview with Rascher turned out to be an instrumental piece in my story. Once the food was brought out, Nathan told me to enjoy some, I obliged without any reservations this time.

After feasting on tomatoes and mozzarella, I grabbed a seat on a couch and waited for the event to start. A young man sat next to me, plate of food and beer in hand. Fishing for information for HOOD1, I struck up a conversation with him. He informed me that he was just coming in to get a shirt and had no idea what was going on. He then leaned over to read my nametag. I explained what I was doing there and asked him where his nametag was, to which he responded, “I am too cool for a nametag.” Burn.

Hours later, I bumped into him walking down 18th street, between Mission and Valencia. He enthusiastically asked me how things went and we chatted for a quick minute before continuing to walk in opposite directions. Despite the minor jab, I was content with the friendliness I experienced in my hood.

As I was making my way back home, I stumbled upon Sweet Ride, a mobile bakery parked on 17th and Valencia. Specializing in cupcakes and puddings, Sweet Ride offers delicious deserts out of a hot-pink 1984 postal truck. If you happen to spot the Sweet Ride, do

yourself a favor and get a cupcake. I suggest the red velvet with cream cheese frosting or the banana bread pudding.

I went back again on Saturday, this time with my mom in tow. We did a fair amount of window-shopping, talking and walking. We ventured to Balmy Alley, a block-long street filled with murals, located just past Folsom on 24th Street. We walked along 24th Street, passing by Shotwell Street, where a man was shot Friday. Sunday, a day after our visit, two men were shot at Papa Potrero’s Pizza, on 24th Street and Potrero Avenue. The three killings this weekend mark the first in the Mission this year.

Drunken Craving

2009-09-21T12:01:00.000-07:00

Long before Kogi Truck from Los Angeles twittered their way to success and Dessert Truck from New York joined the growing mobile foodie movement, there was Crepes A Go-Go from San Francisco. In result of the recession and shoe-string budgets, dining in fancy or medium price restaurants are a thing of the past.

Crepes A Go-Go located in the heart of the nightlife scene in San Francisco South of Market district, is ideal for patrons looking for a convenient place to grab something to eat, fast and on the cheap.

The truck is parked at the same place next to Butter Lounge on 11^th Street and Folsom Street. From a business stand point, this location is a goldmine because direct competition is non-existent. Not a hot dog cart or pizzeria in sight.

When patrons from Slim’s Nightclub or DNA lounge stumbled out to regain soberness, the smell of made to order crepes was undeniably hard to resist. And after a few drinks, certain foods is just all the more satisfying.

The Crepe truck is operated by 3 frenchmen. They are flirtatious with the ladies and very patient with inebriated men calling them “Boss” and cracking jokes to lighten the mood. They appear to love being there and having fun. When they speak in their native tongue however, you never could tell if they are laughing with you or at you.

The wait in line could be long after last call of alcohol. But most people who were trying to buy time before they head home didn’t seem to mind the wait as they chat with other each and recapped their night escapades.

The menu itself was extensive with over fifteen variations of crepes both savory and sweet. Among the savory choices spinach, mushroom and cheese was popular. As for sweets, either strawberry or bananas covered in Nutella was a crowd favorite.

The cost of a crepe was under 5 dollars and fit cozily in the palm of your hands. No utensils required. The outside is flaky and crispy and the stuffing was warm and hearty. The cheesier crepes were the most difficult to maneuver, but so worth the mess.

As I write this, I wish I had a crepe right now at this very instant. I personally never sampled a crepe before a few drinks, but something tells me they are probably just as tasty. Before Twitter helped Kogi trucks spread the buzz via the Internet, Crepes A Go-Go gained popularity the old school way by quality food and good old word of mouth.

Joey's laundromat and cyber cafe, truly a one-stop shop

2009-09-21T10:14:00.000-07:00

Joey's, a Tenderloin laundromat near Ellis and Jones Streets, provides more services than stores twice its size.

Tucked between an office and an extended stay hotel appears a sign that has been hanging over the sidewalk long enough to become nearly entirely overgrown by a neighboring tree. If you can make it out through the shrubbery, the sign reads Joey's laundromat, coffee ice cream sausage internet access. The background for the writing is a collage of the general store's products, which bring to life the creativity behind Joey's combination.

In its entirety the menu, and services available at Joey's include: coffee, espresso drinks, tea, four different kind of sausage sandwiches, a few kinds of pie, cake, bagels, pastries, ice cream,waffle cones, various sundaes, pay by the minute internet access and a laundromat complete with about 30 washers and dryers.

The mind behind this all-purpose laundromat, is a mid-thirties Vietnamese man who was happy talking with me as long as he didn't have to give me his name. I agreed, as I've learned that when reporting in my neighborhood, its best to avoid unnecessarily stepping on toes whenever possible.

The store was originally his fathers laundromat that he bought when coming to the United States in the mid 60s. The man I spoke with has been in charge for about the last 15 years as his father was not in good health for quite some time and passed away five years ago.

The son of the original owner has kept the store profitable through tough times by constantly redefining the family business. He explained that the evolution of the laundromat began when he decided to squeeze all the washers and driers into the back half of the establishment to make room for the latest popular craze of the mid-90s, a cyber cafe.

The laundromat now served everything you typically see at cafes: coffee, espresso drinks, sandwiches(though only sausage is a bit strange), and assorted pastries. However, it wasn't enough for this true visionary.

Hot days, though a rarity in this city, cut down on his coffee sales; thus, to fill this niche he began selling ice cream. In the following years he added a few other menu items like the varying sundaes, additional ice cream flavors, which now number nearly 20,and the cakes and pies that he told me are made from scratch by a relative of his.

The owner said he doesn't have any plans for the immediate future, and has had his hands full with the store as it is. Though adding smoothies, burritos, a full bar, or anything else may not be in the near future, Joey's should continue to prosper in an area where most businesses have been forced to close their doors.

As long as he continues to sell a large coffee and a sausage sandwich for under $5, and doesn't take down the enormous 6-foot wide plastic pterodactyl hanging from the ceiling, he will always have me as a customer.

How About a Date?

2009-09-21T01:07:00.000-07:00

The first person that I interviewed was a young lady who spent a lot of time in Japantown. She was sweet and answered all of my questions. After I was done interviewing her, she said maybe I should also interview the guy who worked there. I was reluctant to do the interview in front of her because some people did not feel comfortable talking in front of many people. I said to the young lady if I would like to do that but maybe later. She kept saying I should do it now though. For the sake of returning her kindness, I asked the guy if he was available to answer some questions. He said yes.

These are some of the things that I asked

Me: Why Japantown? Why do you choose to work in Japantown?
He: Hm… Can I be honest?
Me: Sure
He: There’s a lot of cute girls, here
(I blinked my eyes several times before I was finally able to continue my interview)
Me: Em… well…, okay
He: Oh… and because you go here (he said it to the young lady who sat next to me during the interview)

… the conversation continued

Me: What do you think about Japantown?
He: You know what… Japantown is actually a Korean Town
The young lady / She: What? No
(I looked at the young lady)
Me: Uh… yeah… I think it’s not like that
He: Japanese like me and my friends too only go here to work… (then, he continued to explain why he called Japantown as Korean Town)

(God, I felt bad for the young lady because she went there for the Japanese culture that Japantown may provide… I knew we should not show our bias but still I could not help it when I saw the young lady’s surprised face)

… the conversation continued

Me: Do you have any favorite place in Japantown?
He: Hm… oh… this café
Me: But you work here. Do you have any other place?
He: … … … Oh… there’s a good ramen restaurant down in Buchanan mall. The name’s Tanpopo. We can eat ramen. Do you have anything to do tonight? (he said it to the young lady beside me again)
Me: %@&#*$ (actually, I’m speechless)
She: … … … … …

Haight in the morning

2009-09-20T21:51:00.000-07:00

Since I was assigned the Haight-Ashbury district for this class, I have only experienced this area after 1 p.m. I decided today to change that and wake up early on a Sunday to see what it was like, and experience this part of town before all the shops opened and the tourists awoke to a new day of exploring this interesting part of San Francisco.

I got there around 10 a.m. and, as I had expected, the only shops open were cafes and liquor stores. I walked toward the intersection of Haight and Belvedere streets, which were quiet, almost tranquil, and there was a cool, slight breeze. Once I reached Haight St. the peaceful mood remained, but for a quick second the breeze kicked up the smell of stale booze and body odor. I turned onto Haight St. and realized that smell was probably coming from a transient man lying on the ground outside of CocoLuxe Chocolate shop, occupying two-thirds of the sidewalk. I stood there for a second observing how passersby looked at him, almost studying him to make sure he was sleeping and not dead.

After I moseyed my way past the sleeping man (who was indeed completely passed out, but still breathing), I continued east down Haight St. There was a surprising amount on people on Haight St. so early, but it was still calm and quiet. As I got closer to Buena Vista Park, voices coming from the bar Bloody Mary filled the streets with some noise. The place was packed, as was Martin Macks Restaurant and Bar.

I continued east toward Buena Vista Park, where I passed a group of five or six transient men, all of which looked to be between 20 and 30 years old, hanging out at a bus stop at the intersection of Haight and Masonic streets. I could not understand what they were saying to each other, even though they were speaking very loudly, but as I watched them wrestling around and joking with each other, they all seemed to understand what the other person was saying, as if they have their own mumbled language. I watched some more as one of the men walked into a nearby liquor store and came out with a six-pack of beer. He didn’t share any with his friends while I watched from across the street.

I finally reached Buena Vista Park where I noticed a pile of blankets and backpacks, which likely housed homeless individuals underneath them. Up a hill and by an area surrounded by trees, I see some younger kids, obviously transient youth, sitting on the grass and keeping to themselves. Some have instruments such as guitars or flutes, and others have a few dirty duffel bags that look to be packed with clothes. It seems as if they are looking for something, or waiting for something, but they just aren’t quite sure what that “something” is. As I watch a young man who looks to be about 18 years old lean against a tree and smoke a cigarette, a vision of my cousin immediately comes to my mind. A couple of years ago he was a runaway teen in the Haight-Ashbury district and other area in San Francisco for about a month, and its heartbreaking to think about what he went through, and what these kids go through on a daily basis.

the angry, the happy, the rich, and the poor

2009-09-18T21:56:00.000-07:00

The Civic Center was definitely the place to be on Tuesday, Sept. 16. My mode of transportation: the M line.

A teenager wearing a red sweater leaned against the wall and greeted folks taking the escalators to 7th Street and Market with tunes he played in a black bass guitar. Upstairs, a small lady swept the floor outside of the Oriental Restaurant on Market Street when a man hopped over her broom and said, “You’re a bad girl today,” as he pointed his finger at her and left with a smirk. The small lady swept faster. As she opened the door and walked back in, the smell of Chinese and Japanese cuisine diffused to the streets. As I crossed the light, I noticed a young man in a business suit with a sky-blue tie walking past a boy sporting a black shirt that read, “It takes the hood, to save the hood.” The ironies I see while strolling through the Civic Center fascinate me.

Later, I walked to The United Nations Plaza, which extends from Market Street to Hyde Street, and saw two nuns arranging a table with pots, trays, plastic utensils, and food. The homeless- male and female, young and old- lined up to receive red rice, a French roll, sausage, and a large M&M Cookie. Meanwhile, I spoke with Alberto, an immigrant from Mexico who’s been living in the streets for one week. He shared anecdotes about life in his pueblo- town- and in Mission Street and 16th; the neighborhood where he first arrived eighteen years ago at the age of 15. I felt overwhelmed and powerless after he told me about his second wife’s death. He said cocaine and alcohol filled the emptiness she left in his heart. I thanked him for his time and confidence to share such intimate stories. He congratulated me for attending the university and said, “God bless you.”

As I walked to City Hall, I saw a van from Telemundo, rows of white chairs facing a stage, and a set-up crew testing microphones and speakers. Pilar, a reporter for Telemundo told me that Civic Center was going to celebrate Mexico’s Independence and the independence of other Central American countries that evening.

As I turned away, a group of people wearing bright yellow shirts holding signs in front of City Hall caught my attention. The mob was composed of city workers who rallied to express their anger about lower wages, fewer health benefits, and lay-off notices. In the same building, a bride and groom walked out happily holding hands.

Spending my summer vacation in Orange County made me forget I can’t leave my San Francisco home without a sweater. The cold wind tempted me to go home early. But I wasn’t willing to miss the mariachi band, the Aztec Dancers, or the traditional Mexican food that night. I decided to stay and I had a great time.
Today marked my fourth visit to the Civic Center. All I can say is that I enjoy the diversity that sparks life to the neighborhood and that I am very pleased with my experiences thus far. I saw it all in one day within the boundaries of Market Street, California Street, and Van Ness Avenue: the angry, the happy, the poor, and the rich.

Cougars & Blues at The Union Room

2009-09-16T13:20:00.000-07:00

Last night, I was invited to see my old friend Paul Steward and his dad Rich play a fill-in gig at The Union Room in what I also learned is sometimes referred to as the "Tendernob"-an area of Nob Hill on its border with the Tenderloin. Paul and Rich have played together in their band Twice as Good all over the country, maintaining standing gigs in Lake and Mendocino Counties, and my old stomping grounds, Santa Rosa.

The Union room is this tiny lounge above Biscuits & Blues and next to Jack in the Box at the corner of Geary and Mason. I got upstairs and ordered a drink just as Paul and Rich were starting their first set. Excluding the bartenders and doorman, I counted 6 people in attendance. I felt guilty, so I paid the cover, even though nobody was enforcing it.

It really wasn't long before the tiny lounge began to fill. I tucked my camera bag and jacket behind the bar and moved into the growing crowd of people. With the people came the dinners. They looked amazingly good, and the prices weren't bad, but Jack in the Box took care of me.

True to form, Paul and Rich entertained. Paul, the ever-consummate musician moved between various guitars, a keyboard, saxophone, and a harmonica while Rich held a steady rhythm, swaying slightly as he played. The set was eclectic too, especially given their relative lack of equipment and personnel.

"I'm gonna play a little keys now," said Paul moving to his keyboard. Stopping himself mid-sit to adjust his mic and address the audience, he added, "and by little, I mean it has half the keys of a normal one."

The show was great, and it was nice to see Paul and Rich again. They ran through three sets of chugging 12-bar blues progressions and all the wining and wailing that makes blues guitar what it is.

While this was a really fun outing, I felt that it gave me a lot of insight into the practice of journalism, particularly interviewing.

Somewhere around the second set, the cougars began to stalk around the outer perimeter of the lounge. Actually, it was really more like a gaggle of saber-tooths. I talked to a lot, but one in particular, a very intoxicated 'Miss Margaret' of Noe Valley provided the best conversation. I started with the basics, 'what's your name?', 'do you live here in town?', that kind of thing. Then, I had the unmitigated pleasure of meeting her daughter, who unfortunately lives in Vermont. She said to me, "journalism is about specifics, you're asking way to broad-a questions!"

That really was my intention, though. Especially given what I got out of it. Margaret started getting very friendly, and then a little too friendly. She is absolutely one of those people that grabs your arm when they talk to you.

Margaret told me all about the Southern Pacific Railroad and how she used to be a conductor until they made her a trainer. She lived in San Francisco in '68 and apparently knew Janis Joplin and the guys in Starship. She's now an community activist doing outreach for victims of domestic violence. She's fantastic, and I hope to talk more with her, but I'm going to do it when she's sober. She leans in a little to far.

After the night wound down, I headed back for Powell Station. I talked to some more homeless people then got on the train.

This neighborhood is definitely more fun at night.

Community Thrift Store rededication

2009-09-16T12:23:00.000-07:00

An open rededication ceremony was held at The Community Thrift Store Tuesday afternoon in honor of the store’s recent renovation and 28 years of charitable work.

A new roof, seismically retrofitted, and storefront mural, by muralist Jet Martinez, were celebrated, as was Community Thrift’s charitable services. San Francisco Treasurer Jose Cisneros and Empress of the Imperial Council Donna Sachet served as master and mistress of the ceremony, which took place during store hours and encourage shoppers to partake, while selected speakers expressed gratitude for the non-profit organization’s efforts.

“We decided to have a party to celebrate the changes and still being in business,” Steven Rascher, the San Francisco Tavern Guild Foundation board member president, said. According to Rascher, what “started as a garage sale” has since grown from its humble beginnings.

Founded in 1982 by the San Francisco Tavern Guild, the first gay business association in the United States, Community Thrift has always accepted donations to sell in the store and given the proceeds to a charity chosen by the donator. Rascher , a 19-year-Tavern Guild Foundation board member, said in the first year of business, Community Thrift made enough to give to eight charities, compared to the more than 200 “partners” to date.

“We didn’t realize how much money it was until we did the math for this,” Project Open Hand’s Director of Operations Don Schuman said. Project Open Hand partnered with Community Thrift 21 years ago and has received $320,00 from the organization.

Unable to function without a staff and volunteers, Tavern Guild Board Member John Carrillo praised the Community Thrift staff’s dedication. “They really take care of the space,” he said.

A community driven non-profit to support charities, Community Thrift Store is symbolic of the culture in the Mission District. Executive Director of San Francisco Bicycle Coalition Leah Shahum called the Mission “a special place, […] emblematic.” Shahum, a Community Thrift partner, also expressed appreciation for the store’s donations to her cause. “It’s what makes San Francisco so special.”

Saved by the bookstore

2009-09-14T23:34:00.000-07:00

Yesterday marked my 5th visit to North Beach and it was, in a word, wet. The skies looked less than friendly when I left my apartment Sunday afternoon, but I threw caution to the wind and ventured out sans umbrella, sensible shoes, poncho, etc. This was not wise. When I stepped off muni, I expected to be greeted by the sun's rays rather than a torrential downpour. I decided to forgo the bus in spite of the soggy conditions and made my way from Kearny to Columbus on foot. I contemplated whether looking like a wet rat would hinder my ability to snag interviews.

I walked into a café/bakery somewhere along Columbus and made a half-baked (pun intended) attempt at extracting a quote or two from a friendly, but less than knowledgeable employee- when I asked how long the place had been in business, she looked for the answer on a to-go box. As good as it smelled in there, I decided to move on after a few minutes.

I wandered aimlessly for what seemed like an eternity until I quite literally found salvation at Francesco Rocks, a Catholic bookstore on Grant that sells everything from crucifixes and frescos to a wide selection of religious texts. It was there that I had the pleasure of meeting Kathleen, an incredibly well-connected bookstore volunteer. I ended up answering as many questions as I asked which might have annoyed me if Kathleen, a former journalism student, hadn’t whipped out her iPhone and shared some very valuable digits. I now know how to reach a 20 year North Beach resident and a former Chronicle staff writer. Not too shabby.

Kathleen recommended that I hurry along and check out La Porziuncola Nuova of the National Shrine of Saint Francis on Columbus at Vallejo, but alas, it was closed by the time I found it. Who knew shrines had official hours of operation?

After further aimless wandering, I stumbled into the bar at the Basque Hotel located in an alley off Broadway- which sounds far shadier than it was. Aaron, the bar's owner/operator, looked like a cross between Jake Gyllenhaal and Justin Bobby of MTV's The Hills. I felt as if Saint Francis himself was testing my concentration skills. But that's beside the point…

I read somewhere that the average North Beach resident is 42 years old. When I told Aaron this, he said he figured it was probably true but added that the neighborhood seemed to be gaining popularity with a younger demographic. When I asked what he thought made it unpopular in the first place, he replied with Justin Bobby-esque charm that it had a reputation for being "douchey" thanks to the bar and club scene. Before I departed, I managed to get the names of some of Aaron's favorite area eateries. Naked Lunch, Macaroni Café and Mario's Bohemian Cigar Store Café are all musts, if only to run into a certain blue-eyed barkeep. Kidding, of course (sort of).

My last stop of the day was the Beat Museum. I chatted with Brandon who I found manning the museum store's counter, although chatting may be a bit of an understatement since I was there nearly two hours. We discussed everything from the upcoming Hardly Strictly Bluegrass (free!) concert in the park to the museum's ticket sales that day (just $75). I learned that Mark Alvarez is THE ultimate beat cop. According to Brandon's friend Mark (go figure) who happened to be hanging around the museum, Officer Alvarez "looks like a stereotypical cop" and his speech has a certain cop-like cadence (whatever that means). Needless to say, I'm looking forward to meeting this man. They also mentioned that it's almost difficult to get arrested in North Beach, a theory I don't plan to test.

When I asked Brandon about his craziest North Beach-related experience, he struggled to come up with one. He mused that this may have had something to do with the fact that living in San Francisco long enough has been known to alter one's perception of crazy. In the end, he came up with two particularly memorable moments...apparently it's not uncommon to find your neighbor launching bottles out his window in the wee hours of the morning or a used Christmas tree ablaze in the intersection of Stockton, Green and Columbus.

Perception altering indeed.

The Fillmore vs. Pacific Heights

2009-09-14T13:46:00.000-07:00

Riding up the 22 bus as I past the Fillmore into Pacific Heights, the transition was staggering. At first you see a neighborhood that reminds me of what the Harlem would’ve looked like. It was a little more grungy with an air of neglect. I did notice some jazz spots which provided the neighborhood with some character and history but all in all, it didn’t necessarily provided a welcoming atmosphere.

And then you past the Fillmore into Pacific Heights and for some reason it seems literally sunnier in this neighborhood. There are more people out, more shops to glance at, as well as restaurants and cafes. The people that are out are well dressed with their coffees and designer shopping bags with their perfectly-behaved dogs. One could say that the people here are comfortably happy. Everyone is smiling or having what I could see as a pleasant conversation either on their cell phones or with a friend.

The bizarre thing was that you’d think that because everyone seems so happy that they’d be inclined to talk to a college student trying to write a story for class. That was not the case. The people who I approached were so warm and amiable until I said that I had a few questions I would like to ask them. And then all of a sudden an instinct to back away from me instilled skepticism in their faces.

What I think this was all about was that they may have felt that their comfortable happiness was in jeopardy. They didn’t really want to answer my questions because they knew that they had something to lose, which was their lifestyle. Maybe they didn’t want anyone writing about their enclave because it was so important to them. I get that. But I’m a college student who was just trying to understand something I wasn’t familiar with. There was nothing that I could’ve done to change their lives, at least not yet.

Perhaps next time I’ll venture out in the Fillmore because although the neighborhood didn’t look as welcoming, I’m sure the people had something to say about it. Not to assume that the people in the Fillmore had nothing to lose by talking to me, but I’m sure they know there could be a lot to gain by aiding someone who doesn’t understand something. And by helping me comprehend what their neighborhood was about, I could tell someone else who might know someone else who might be able to give them a hand or two.

I’ll keep you guys updated. As of yet though, I do know that the Fillmore and Pacific Heights seem like completely different realms socially as well as economically

Praying Mantis

2009-09-14T11:40:00.001-07:00

I've had boring jobs before, but it must be REALLY boring to be a police officer.

The other day I was walking down Mission Street and I saw a police officer doing the crane like Ralph Macchio. Three other cops were laughing at him. A few seconds later he was holding his baton to the sidewalk, trying to get a bug to crawl onto it. Then he launched the bug into the street.

So I walked over to the cops and asked, "Hey what kind of bug is that?"

And the one that was doing the crane and threw the bug into the street, Officer Tom Hauscarriague, said, "I believe that is a praying mantis. You can go and get it if you want."

But the bug is in the middle of the street, cars are driving on it really fast, and I could really care less about saving the bug's life.

I didn't really know where to take the conversation after that. The guy just told me to go play in traffic. I just started thinking out loud and it was awkward. Then I noticed that one of the officers had his hand on his holstered taser.

I had to convince these guys that I wasn't an angry citizen wanting to call the insect cops on them and I didn't want to be tased so I pulled the "I go to SF State" thing. Then I left.

Sister cities

2009-09-14T11:37:00.000-07:00

What is the point of cities having sister cities? For example, I went to Sebastopol California this weekend and noticed that it had a sister city, well actually it has two, Yamauchi, Japan. I started thinking what does the sister city status really mean, whose idea was this and who in Sebastopol knows what their sister city is? So I took a quick look over at wikipedia to find out that sister cities are used to promote commerce and cultural ties. Really? What commercial and or cultural ties could exist between Sebastopol and Yamauchi? As it turns out there was more to it than I thought. Sebastopol, and Yamauchi too I guess, won an award in 1985 from sister cities international for best first year, though I am not really sure what for...

I Scared A Lady

2009-09-14T09:59:00.000-07:00

I was waiting in front of Brenda’s French Soul Food when the clock was moving toward 12 o’clock on a cold Saturday morning. I was in a big dilemma whether I should give up my more-than-an-hour waiting. I had an informal appointment with a lady at Benkyodo at 12 o’clock that day. Finally after sacrificing my primary need to eat something, I went to Benkyodo (a traditional mochi store in Japantown). It was 12 o'clock on the afternoon when I arrived there. My stomach was growling but I was glad the lady was still sitting there, sipping her hot drink.

I said, “Good morning. How are you?”

I felt a smile was blossoming from my face. I was really glad that I met the lady again. She was a Japanese senior citizen who spent a lot of time in Japantown. I talked to her the week before and asked her whether we can meet and talk again (only for talking not an interview). She said yes, she will be around on Saturday at 12 o’clock. The lady seemed to be quite knowledgeable with Japantown and I just felt that I had to talk to her somehow.

While she was sipping her hot drink and I ate my ohagi, I wondered what conversation should be used to break the ice. She just seemed distance and different from the lady that I met the week before. I wondered if she thought of me as a mere journalism student who was just poking her nose into other people’s business.

The week before we had a good conversation and then, when I left her, I bought some mochis to go and I thought, that was probably the time when she started to see me differently. I was quite persistent (more shameless probably) and refused to go before I got an interview with the owner of the store. I just went on looking at the articles and pictures on the wall while throwing a couple of quick questions now and then. I ended up getting a less than 10 minutes interview after I talked to the owner’s daughter who was there at that time. Deep down, I felt that I should not do this in front of her because I enjoyed talking to her as a person rather than a source.

However, she may see me differently after that little show of shamelessness. She threw a couple of quick questions before she finally said she had to leave. She did not even look at me and she just left like that while I was just sat beside her like a moment ago. Last week, she spent more than 45 minutes to talk to me.

It seemed like she tried to avoid me. There was a little bit of anger for her to leave me just like that when I even had to cancel my brunch for her. There was a little bit of disappointment that I did not get to talk to her. But more than that, I felt sad. Despite of my eagerness of getting a story, I want people to look at me as a person and not just a journalism student. Hopefully, I am just thinking too much.

Looking for Dirt in China Basin

2009-09-13T23:26:00.000-07:00

When I took the China Basin beat, I had an idea that there was some urban renewal happening there. A remnant of an old memory surfaced... I vividly recalled a panhandler gesturing to some dirt lots, saying: "We used to live here before they tore down the projects." But I couldn't distinctly place the memory from so long ago, so I geared up my street bike and headed south from the Embarcadero at the foot of Market St.

The dirt lots were there all right, but I needed to do my digging at the library to find whether there had ever been public housing in what's now China Basin (the waterfront area also known as Mission Bay located between the Mission Creek Harbor and Mariposa). Although I'm still trying to find out whether or not there had been public housing there, a search of Chronicle archives and the Planning Commission records showed that speculation and urban plans for the waterfront area had been stymied time and again over the years since 1961 or earlier. Sorting through the tangled web left by conflicting business and residential interests over time only led to the question: "Why is the area south of Pac Bell Park still such a mess?"

A few pictures of the area posted here include a crumbling jetty like so many other decrepit remains that dot the landscape, warning signs that fail to keep street dwellers out of off-limit areas, and a huge sign about a sewage-treatment "odor-control" project that could use some refining...a lot of refining, if you get the drift. Those are some of the more obvious signs of things amiss here, but are they the cause of the real problem, or just effects?

At least one environmentalist, Robert Da Costa, says that landfill like the China Basin area is subject to liquefaction during earthquakes. Some of the snapshots of the sagging structures at the waterline seem to bear out this probable reason for the haphazard development of the neighborhood. I'll post more pictures later.

Setting Sail in the Mission

2009-09-13T23:01:00.000-07:00

My first voyage to the Mission started in the foggy haze of the Outer Sunset. After a crowded ride on the N Judah, there I was standing in the sunshine on Valencia and Market.

I quickly decided the best approach to exploring my neighborhood was to dive in head first and walk the streets. Immediately I noticed the plethora of businesses: bars, restaurants, liquor stores, medical marijuana dispensaries, bookstores, bicycle shops, and the like. If nothing else, there would never be a shortage of things to do or see.

One of the first stores I popped into was Multikulti. This moderately priced store was filled with accessories and clothing, it was quite possibly one of the most random varieties of odds and ends I have ever encountered. I made a mental note to return come Halloween.

After walking down Valencia a few more blocks I cut over to Guerrero Street. What a difference one block makes! Mostly residential and speckled with a few bars and restaurants, Guerrero Street was much quieter than Valencia. Feeling a little bored, I wandered over to Mission Street.

Arguably the heart of the Mission District, bustling Mission Street was excitingly festive. I later found out that the street is the longest in the city, stretching throughout downtown. Yet, the Mission Street of the Inner Mission has a rich cultural and ethnic heritage.

Mission Street houses open-air markets, taquerias, bars and liquor stores. Less gentrified than Valencia and Guerrero, parts of Mission Street appeared older, thus more appealing to me. Perhaps it was the charm of slightly grimy street that I found intriguing, although the aromatic scent of bacon-wrapped hot dogs did not hurt. Yes, hot dogs wrapped in greasy bacon, grilled street-side and served with sautéed onions. It took all of my strength to resist, but I often think of what it might taste like, and have no doubt I will know by the end of the semester!

My first tour through my hood left me tired and, of course, hungry. With the help of people on the street, I decided to dine at Yamo, an inexpensive Burmese restaurant on 18th Street between Mission and Valencia. The place was as big as a studio apartment, with one long counter for dining, an exposed kitchen with two female cooks and a line out the door. The food was so good I ate on the street and decided to call it a day.

Walking back to Muni I hashed over the day’s events and wondered what I would do next visit. With so much happening on every street, and every block within that street, it surely won’t be hard to figure something out.

Dreads, Drugs & Dreams - First day in Upper Haight

2009-09-13T13:25:00.000-07:00

Having just moved to San Francisco in January from Orange County, a rush of intimidation came over me as I was reading the syllabus for JOUR 300. We have to explore a specific area of the city? We have to spend at least one day and night per week there? Needless to say, I was nervous. I hadn’t really gone into the city to explore with anyone, let alone by myself! But I knew it was time to explore sooner or later; I mean after all, I did move to San Francisco to LIVE here, not just BE here.

I did some research on the list of neighborhoods supplied to us in the syllabus, and got some feedback from people I know who have grown up in the city. Upper Haight seemed extremely interesting after hearing of its “bohemian,” hippie-like aura, so I decided to be gutsy and make it first of my list of choices, and I got it! It was time to be tough and go explore!

It took me about 45 minutes, on an extremely crowded bus, to get to the intersection of Haight and Masonic streets from my house. The icing on the “overcrowded bus cake” was that I decided to go into the city on the hottest day I have experienced here since I moved from Southern California. I survived the long ride, and finally reached my destination.

When I got off the bus, the first thing I noticed was a grungy-looking guy with dirty, tattered clothes yelling at the sidewalk while he dragged his two old pit bulls by leashes made of what looked to be shoelace. “Well, I guess I’m in the right place,” I thought to myself, remembering some of the stories I had been told of this area.

I wasn’t sure where to start first, so I walked toward Buena Vista Park to see what small shops I could find. As I was crossing the street, I looked up from my phone to see a short, heavyset elderly man lightly skipping in the opposite direction. No, it wasn’t odd that he was skipping. What was odd was that this man was stark naked, except for the fanny pack around his waist. This whole scene happened so quickly I didn’t have time to realize what happened until I noticed the people around me, looking at him in either disgust or surprise. There were also some people sitting at a café that seemed to be locals, as they didn’t really look shocked at all.

I continue down the sidewalk, trying to get the visual I just witnessed out of my mind. I reach Buena Vista Park and scope out the area. There are not many people on this side of the area, so I turned back around and went down Haight St. the opposite way. I was surprised by how many tattoo parlors and smoke shops there were on this street, and wondered if the competition was fierce in these parts.

After getting a feel for Upper Haight, I walked into Mom’s Body Shop, a tattoo parlor on Haight St. I took a look around and noticed the shop was small, but organized into open cubicles for each tattoo artist. I was referred to the owner of shop, Barnaby Williams. He is a self-proclaimed “Mama’s Boy,” and opened Mom’s Body Shop on Mother’s Day in 1998. He lived in the Haight area until June 2009, and had a lot of interesting insight on the area, expressing to me that working and living in Haight is “emotionally and spiritually corrupting.”

I could certainly see the reasons behind Barnaby’s emotional statement as I walked past young teenagers, some of them looking no older than 16 years old, sitting on the ground with dirty clothes and troubled faces. I kept walking down the street, making a mental note to come back in an hour or two to speak to some of the homeless youth, but soon figured out that if they are there one minute, they will likely not be in the same spot the next.

Saturday Morning in Civic Center

2009-09-12T19:27:00.000-07:00

Even though I've lived in San Francisco for 3 years, I haven't explored much of the city. The only neighborhood, other than my home neighborhood- Stonestown/SFSU- I've spent more than 2 hours in is the Mission. I walked through Civic Center for the first time 2 years ago, my impression was that of a depressing and dangerous neighborhood.

A few days before our first Reporting class, I researched the Civic Center and realized it would be a great beat because of the protests, museums, and irony that exists between the homeless who find refuge in Civic Center Plaza and the rich who rent 1-bedroom apartments starting at $2,500 a month just a few blocks down the plaza. To me, Civic Center is a reflection of 2 extremes.

My first experience at Civic Center, for the purpose of this class, was a little bit frustrating. Not many people wanted to speak to me. Saturday morning was hot and the streets were crowded with tourists. I found two apartment buildings; however, the leasing consultants weren't willing to share information if I wasn't interested in resnting an apartment. The apartment's residents walked in and out in a rush. At Archstone Fox Plaza Apartments, located on Market St., the firefighters and police arrived to an emergency phone call. The concierge had no idea an emergency call had been made.

Later I walked into a $1 store where you can find from tailor sets to Mexican cooking spices. The manager was amiable. Unfortunately, he couldn't tell me much about living in the neighborhood because his hometown was Sunnyvale. Donut shops and liquor stores are found throughout Market. Later, I spoke with the security guard at the Art Institute of California. He said small thefts were common in the neighborhood.

That night, I went home and did more research. I learned that the Farmer's Market is hosted on United Nations Plaza every Wednesay and Sunday. My next visit was set for Sunday, Aug. 30. Stands with fresh fruits and vegetables, nuts and plants, were set up around the plaza. People walked around taking samples of nectarines, oranges, apples, and grapes. I bought 3 delicious nectarines myself. I couldn't resist! I spoke with 4 vendors. I learned a lot about their work in the fields and their drives to San Francisco every week. All for of the people lived outside of the city. They said San Francisco's weather was a nice break from Modesto's, Fresno's, and Bakerfield's heat. Later that day, I walked around the Main Library and approached a homeless man. He wore a jean jacket, a black binnie, and red sweatpants. He said Civic Center was "toxic." Usually, he spends most of the day reading in the library's fifth floor. Afterwards, I walked into a little fashion store that is popular in the nieighborhood for its 'human-hair' wigs, according to the store's manager.

I left Civic Center with more confidence and a sense of safety after my second visit. I look forward to builiding up skills that will allow me to approach people with better questions to acquire important information about the neighborhood.

Question About This Photo

2009-09-12T11:04:00.000-07:00

Who's skyline photo is this? That is a great hood right there. North Beach. Lots of history, good weather, not to big, near Chinatown. Broadway gets crazy on Friday nights, but SFPD locks it down pretty good. There was an avalanche there a few years ago. Some rocks came tumbling down behind Show Girls and smashed in the back door. They used this giant crane to stabilize the cliff wall and so for about a week, half of Broadway was blocked off because of that monster. It reached up over the club and ferried men and supplies up to the top of the hillside. Anyway, sorry to be talking about sombody's neighborhood. Wait, did anyone get North Beach? If not, I'll post some stories about it from back in the day.
Anthony Myers