The Meeting Adventure.

I went last Thursday to the Planning Commission meeting for (obviously) the meeting story. I was fully expecting it to be very dull and fairly long (the agenda looked substantial, to say the least).

I decided the night before that I would take public transportation since there was no way of knowing how long the meeting would be. And because I’m cheap and refuse to pay for parking. Plus, the last thing I really need is a parking ticket because I have zero income these days since I quit my shitty job.

Anyway, back to our story: I went to check out the part of the Lower Haight that would be affected by the Market & Octavia plan. So I got to ride the 71 into the Haight from Civic Center because I took BART in. A nice white bum saved me from an evil black bum that was harassing me all up in my face for spare change. I could only think of South Park.

The second I started cruising in the Lower Haight, I instantly felt more comfortable with the area that I ever have walking around the Upper Haight. No lies. (Quick interjection: What does that say about me?) In all seriousness, I can’t honestly figure out why I like it. I only spent slightly over an hour there, but it was fantastic. So calm on that day (probably because of the rain, but, hey, I didn’t melt) and I had no idea what anything I stumbled across was.

Oh, and a trick of the trade that I picked up: I’m going to carry around a little map and write on it because it helps me WAY more to get familiar with an area than just aimlessly wandering to get a feel for the place. My internal compass is screwed up 10 ways to Sunday, I assure you.

I found my way to City Hall no problem, and to the room no problem. Cruised on in and they started the meeting slightly late. The first portion of the meeting (as in the first hour and a half) had three highlights: people fighting for a preschool expansion, people advocating for a parking lot to be sold, and me being on camera behind every damn speaker for the live broadcast.

We got a break at 3 p.m. and I was stoked to go get some food. I basically booked it to Walgreens because I thought I was going to pass out and then went to Starbucks to chill because I was literally freezing to death in the rain. Well, maybe not literally. But I was getting there.

Cue the reason why I don’t like being in Civic Center/Tenderloin: I got chatted up by this black guy who was over 50 (for a fact, he told me). For an hour. AN HOUR. He ended up giving me his number after I refused it twice. I think he actually expects me to call. This happened shortly after I got some commentary on my chest while walking down the street. God, I love this city.

Went back to the meeting at 5 p.m. Little did I know that I would seriously spend the next four and a half hours of my life (in a different seat so I wasn’t on camera) listening to complaints about public transportation. I felt a little outraged at the attitude towards parking and people who drive instead of take the bus. Granted, it wasn’t meant as a personal attack, but dude, people drive. Forreal. And parking in the city absolutely sucks.

But that’s an entirely different topic. Point being: this meeting was hell on earth for me. I have a great attention span when I want to, but after the two hour mark my ass was killing me and I just wanted to go home and eat some real food and KTFO.

The meeting finally finished at 9:30 p.m. and I went home to lie on my bed all comatose-like for the rest of the night. I guess listening to hours of testimony on why .8 to 1 parking is so much worse than .75 to 1 parking can really take it out of a girl.

Thursday at the Castro (Blog 4)

Getting off the Muni Metro I wasn’t sure what else I would find in the Castro. The last couple times I was at the Castro I found some nifty gift shops, general stores, decent restaurants, and the GLBT History Museum. Normally I would just pin point places to visit before going the Castro, but this time I decided to be a little more spontaneous.

I walked around Castro Street to find any store that would peak my interest. A few minutes into my walk, I found myself eyeing a store called “Whatever”. When I went inside I found myself surrounded by comic books and figurines. One of the clerks from “Whatever” said it was the first comic book store in the Castro district of San Francisco. I began scanning the store to see what kind of selections they had. The comic books store had a wide selection of comics including DC, Marvel, and independent comics from LGBT creators. My ‘inner geek’ came out when I saw that they also had mangas (Japanese graphic novels). I haven’t read a single manga since I started college. I couldn’t help but spend an hour in the anime section just scanning through their mangas. I felt as if I were a little kid at a candy shop (nerd alert).

I also noticed “Whatever…” had a large collection of action figures and vintage candies such as Razzles, Pop Rocks, Bottle Caps, and Sky Bars. Their comics alone made me want to consider bringing my 10-year-old brother to “Whatever” comic book store, he would love their selection.

When I stepped out of “Whatever” comics I remembered a bakery shop I had seen on Church Street during my first visit in the Castro, Thorough Bread and Pastries. I’ve only been inside the bakery shop once, but I never tried their pastries. Strolling around Church Street looking for Thorough Bread, I felt a couple drops of water sliding down my head (uh-oh). I prayed and hoped it wouldn’t rain today. A couple drops turned to showers, and showers turned to hard rain and cold winds. I looked through my bag to see if I brought my umbrella, but to my dismay I didn’t bring one.

Fortunately, I was only a few steps away from Thorough Bread. My hair was damp and the bottom half of my jeans looked as if I jumped into a puddle. I wiped the drops of water off my glasses so I can see the bakery’s menu. Looking through their glass casing of pastries, one of the workers brought in a fresh warm batch of sticky buns. The sweet aroma of the sticky buns was enough to make my mouth water. I eagerly asked one of the clerks to pull out a sticky bun and bought breakfast tea. Biting down on the sticky bun I was delighted with the fact that it actually tasted as good as it smelled.


http://thoroughbreadandpastry.com/

http://www.whateverstoreonline.com/

Bayview Meeting

So I went to my meeting for Bayview. Slowly but surely things are starting to turn around for me. Im so excited because I met people that WANT to talk to me and it is such a relief. The meeting was not boring and they had a 15 minute break to eat some jambalaya and other delicious goodies. The best part about this is the people I met. I've really started to discover that there is a real large issue with the redevelopment going on. I mean I already knew it was an issue but now Im starting to see the gravity of it. I learned that the best meetings to go to are the community meetings which I will definitely be attending next month. Things get crazy from yelling to physical fights I heard. Of course this is only in response to the real supposed threat which is the members from the Nation of Islam. Anyway, unfortunately I missed the community meeting for this month so there wasn't a ton of info provided. One thing I wasn't feeling was that one of the members on the panel was totally hitting on me and asking me out for drinks. I of course refused and handled it fine but I really just wanted to say, "Dude seriously? You're probably 50+ so quit being nasty." Anyway, he knows a lot and is involved so he makes for a great source, so I'm going to have to set him straight and hope he still is willing to talk to me :( .......

No Action in Noe Valley

Ugh...disappointed doesn't even cover it. I had the worst luck trying to find a meeting in my neighborhood. The Noe Valley Ministry is closed due to renivations and that's the hub of community Alcoholics Anonymous meetings and Overeaters Anonymus meetings.

After calling to confirm that "yes the church is closed" I realized I had to find a new meeting to attend. Luckily its the last Wednesday of the month and to those who are familiar with Noe Valley knows what that means...the Noe Valley Merchants and Professonals Association meets!

Unfortunately they meet at 9 a.m. and I have class on Mondays and Wednesdays from 9:10-10. Just my luck.

I then went on the SF Government website and found a Budget Committee meeting that's going on. Wednesday at 11 a.m. at City Hall in room 250.

Thank goodness I found a meeting; it may be boring but I'm glad I found something for this assignment. YAY for budget meetings.

The good, the bad, and the ugly.

As I walked down Jones Street by Ellis Street, I noticed a three panel mural that encapsulated my experience so far in the Tenderloin. 

The first panel says, "I think people should know more about this place." Overall, I think the Tenderloin is under covered beat with stories that need to be told. Also I think the Tenderloin is greatly misunderstood. Both locals and foreigners alike are afraid to go into the Tenderloin. And to some degree they many be right to be scared. It has the most narcotics transactions in the city. It also has houses some of the meekest champions of social justice in the city. 

The second panel reads, "There is good people. There is bad people." 

The good. They are some of its highly visible leaders in church organizations, police officers, activist and volunteers that help the needy of the Tenderloin everyday. Folks like Reverend Cecil Williams begun a progressive approach to the poverty in the Tenderloin. I was greatly inspired by a UPS tour group with employees from all over the world. The group included people from Indiana and Tennessee all the way to Ireland and Tokyo. They all had come to the Tenderloin to see the adversity that exists even in one of the most developed countries in the world. It was obvious that by the end of the tour, many of these individuals who had never seen poverty before were looking at the world in a different light. 

The bad. They are those who neither live or work in the Tenderloin yet come here to sell narcotics to its drug addicted population. According to the captain of the Tenderloin police station, these drug dealers come mostly from Richmond and Oakland. They post in front of drug recovery centers in the Tenderloin and make drugs available to the most vulnerable to its harm. 

The ugly. Some may think that they are the people who do live in the Tenderloin. The drug addicted and the homeless. However, those that I have met are very nice but just can't seem to get a break. Their addiction or lack of education is the main reason they are in the situation they are in. They urinate and defecate on the sidewalk not from desire but from desperation.

 So maybe the ugly are those who turn a blind eye to the problem that is begging them for help on the sidewalk. They may be asking for money but all some may need is compassion. According to a volunteer at St.Bonifice the folks of the Tenderloin are deemed as unworthy for help by too many. 

The final panel reads, "So I think I just want people to know that don't just judge a book by its cover. There's a lot more inside."

By Nelson Estrada

The Other Side of Bayview

It's been a while since I have posted anything. It's also been a little bit of a struggle talking to people with this weather scaring everyone away. One thing I have managed to find and am very interested in, is some interesting businesses on the other side of 3rd St. One location is a business called Flora Grubb Gardens, that sells designer garden creations with a coffee bistro inside. This place is completely unlike the Bayview community. You would never know its there since it's on the other side of 3rd. It's shockingly expensive and doesn't seem to cater to the existing Bayview community. The other business I found, which I have yet to be able to access is the Pet Camp. It is also located on the other side of 3rd and based on the website seems to be pretty nice for your pets to play. The prices are actually not very steep, they offer to do the things most people should already be doing with their pets, but if you're too busy guess it's perfect. I'm on the look out for more locations such as this in the community....

Meeting ideas

Dear students,

For those of you still trying to find a meeting, here are some ideas.

Find out what station covers your neighborhood at http://sf-police.org/

News and updates are listed there.

There's news on the Ingleside homicide, Union Street bank robbery, Mission Street shooting, and news of public meetings

Find out when the police department's community meeting for your neighborhood will be at

http://sf-police.org/index.aspx?page=1609

Also, you can find crime statistics for your neighborhood at http://sf-police.org/index.aspx?page=1618

Tribute to Parkmerced heroes

I have been to the Towers three times now. It has been an eye opening experience to say the least.

Everywhere I look, people and publications are condemning the long-time residents of this community for wanting to hold onto what they have. They are inciting rebellion against what in many cities could be called an institution, a landmark.

To establish a home, raise a family, see your children grow to be successful adults with children of their own, and to then have it torn away from you all in the name of progress and development, is preposterous. No one should have to endure such a trial. Not in a country that calls itself free.

Here's to the Evelyns, the Roberts, and the others who are willing to stand up and fight back. I felt lucky to have spoken with them, to have met them, and to have learned from them.

I'm not sure what the next chapters in the Parkmerced story will hold; though, I hope for their sake, it is one of promise.

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Never Lonely Alone.

I have a confession to make. Besides being a pretty shy individual, I also have a bad case of paranoia. As a student journalist, I realize that this is a terrible quality to possess. So last night, I spontaneously decided to go out to North Beach by myself after my last class was over. I remembered that the owner of Cafe Grecos, Hanna Suleiman, mentioned to me that every Monday night they host an open mic event. After parking inside the North Beach Parking Garage and reading my parking stall fortune (which had something to do with conquering my fears ironically), I walked over to Cafe Grecos. Once inside, I ordered an espresso and made my way into the back of the room. I noticed people looking at me, but shrugged it off, until I realized that I was one of the few women there and the second youngest in age.

I made it just in time to hear a few poets and a couple of musicians express their souls. Some of them spoke of broken hearts from a love that once ran so deep, some spoke of loneliness, while others cracked crude, yet funny, jokes. There were a lot of older men at the event. They seemed to me as though they were yearning to share their life with anyone who would listen. Yes, some of them were a bit eccentric, but in an imperfect and beautiful way. They spoke of the lonely San Francisco nights and of the drunken memories of their youth.

As I sat in the back of the room by myself, I realized that every individual, if not most, yearns for a connection. I stared into the eyes of the old artistic poets and I heard their confessions and vulnerabilities. In physical being, they were dressed, yet spiritually they were naked, clothed only with scars; scars of a past memory, a past regret, hope, love, hate, fear, etc.

After the event was over I was approached by a few members, who insisted that I come back. They were all very sweet and I felt immediately welcomed. I even made some contacts.

The night was still young so I walked over to Specs, my favorite dive bar. The sounds of a stranger playing piano filled the bar calmed me down a bit. I sat in an empty seat at the bar and ordered a White Russian. I met a man there and we had a wonderful philosophical conversation about life, death, spirits, the human adventure and art. We talked about random connections and listened to man play “Say it ain’t so,” by Weezer outside.

As nice as our random meeting and conversation was, the man and I left on our own separate ways. I then proceeded to walk to my car and made the unfortunate mistake of walking past the strip clubs where ignorant men made crude remarks and a man selling toy swords poked my belly.

Fin.

Barbecue Chicken Pizza

Today I stopped in at this pizza place on Haight between Ashbury and Clayton called Big Slice Pizza. Honestly, I didn't think much about my decision on account of the fact that I was running ridiculously late (as usual) to work. So, I guess it was more of a running into this pizza place as an act of pure, desperate hunger to get some good food fast and get on the road.

The restaurant is nothing special to look at. It's not nicely decorated, or even really decorated at all. Rather, it looks like the owner(s) just painted it threw in a register and some seating and BOOM: Big Slice.

That's not a bad thing, though; I really like the low-maintenance look because it either means the food is very cheap and very bad or very cheap and very good.

Judging by the six people in line in front of me, I decided on the latter.

The line at the register went very slowly, but it was cool to watch all the pizza filter in and out. Three pizza racks sat on the computer slightly overlapping each other. When I finally got there, my options were: cheese, something with jalapenos and sausage, and barbecue chicken.

My mouth started watering the second I saw the barbecue chicken pizza. It looked incredible, all cheesy with the grilled chicken nestled into the cheese like it was wrapped in a blanket, green onions and bacon chunks sprinkled all around, and a barbecue drizzle on top.

I was totally lusting after that pizza, watching those three remaining slices harder than I'd ever wanted anything before.

The place went through a whole fresh pepperoni and a half a pesto pizza by the time I got there, but I got a huge, hot slice of barbecue chicken (and it was just as delicious as I'd dreamed it would be in those five minutes I stood in line).

Plus, it was in my price range (very cheap) and very filling. The whole restaurant was packed, but I managed to find a little corner to myself to eat quickly.

I don't know anything about this place, and I didn't have any time to ask, only enough time to devour the slice and hurry to my car to get to work, which is why I think it sticks with me hours later.

When did Big Slice move in to Haight Street? How many kinds of pizza do they really make? How many pizzas a day? Why is there no decor? Is it a branch from a company, or independent? Any secret ingredients? Any specialties?

Maybe why the pizza is so freaking delicious?

It's possible at this point that the memory is greater than the pizza itself... that there's no way it can ever live up to the pizza I believe in to be in my mind's taste bud.

But I don't think so. I can't wait to have another slice of heaven and learn a lot more about Big Slice Pizza.

The Fillmore Media

So, I've decided to take the photos I have collected and make a slideshow with captions and music and cool special effects!

We'll see how this goes... I'm very new to iMovie... Whatever happened to iDVD slideshow on the Macs?!

It's a work in progress! =)

Surviving South Beach.

Walking the beat of South Beach is great. The Ferry Building is diverse and fun, and AT&T park is so memorable and proud I can't help but visit every time I go to South Beach. The streets in between are full of corporations and great eateries. The underground music scene is still thriving in South Beach, so I'm excited to go to some of the clubs there to meet more interesting people. It all sounds great, right?

Wrong. I have no idea how to meet residents. Every time I visit South Beach I meet people who work there, reside near by, or are tourists. South beach is filled with major businesses including the Twitter offices and Wikipedia. Many young corporate types I've met do not work at these corporations. So who does?! I have tried cafes, restaurants, and parks. Most people are walking through the area or on lunch breaks (the latter are particularly unenthusiastic to talk to me).

I did have some luck visiting South Park (my favorite) and met a young family there. Other than that, most people just work there.

The China Basin is a little better, which is still part of South Beach, although completely different than the area on the other side of the Fourth Street Bridge. More residents are walking the streets of China Basin on their way to and from the city, as the China Basin has little markets or restaurants. I especially hope to come in contact with those who live on the houseboats, particularly how they feel about all the construction going on in their area. "Ahoy!" hasn't gotten me very far.

I believe some of the major problems in meeting residents of the area are the lack of schools and churches in South Beach. Such meeting places are essential to bringing the community together. Also, I have visited South Beach mostly in the afternoon, so I plan to go in the morning, too, hoping to catch some residents going to and from breakfast.D emographics suggest that there are far more young and single professionals living in South Beach, therefore I guess there's not a pressing need for schools, but everyone eats.

If there are 3,000 people residing in South Beach, I guess I need to step up my game, because I have yet to meet over ten.

Mission til (Past) Midnight

Finally, the spectacular visuals of my night-time Mission escapades.


"..large, imposing, rhinoceros"
One of Freya Prowes most recent pieces. A fine example of the nightmarish quality of her works.





One of Angela Simione's pieces playing with the idea of wearing labels for internal characteristics. She spoke a lot about how stigmatized qualities of an individual are often hidden for the benefit of the public. One of her scarves had "FATHERLESS" woven into it in block letters like those displayed on MUNI to announce the route. When she wore it out, she said many people glared at her as if it were something dirty or inappropriate.






Angela Simione's pencil interpretation of Sylvia Plath's last book. The Bell Jar was published shortly after her suicide, and Simione wanted to capture the darkness and haunting quality of Plath's literature.





One of my favorite installments. Photographs and bras strewn about mixed with short stories written about an experience about becoming a woman. "First Bra" stories along with summer camp anecdotes and tales of drinking games in high school were stuck to the alternating walls of this piece.










... And then I arrived at Sub-Mission


The amazing Flying Squirrel and her partner in crime doing a kid oriented show in front of a bunch of hooting and hollering, drunken adult guests.









This was the ever-so-scandalous back room with the hookah bar and the Klezmer band. (If you do not know what a Klezmer band is, I highly suggest you youtube it.)













This may be my favorite image from the night. This artist was in an outdoor enclosure surrounded by spectators taking a cigarette break, just silently painting Dolores Huerta. He took deliberate and commanding movements, but he also took his time. He carefully crafted her eyes and the shape of her face, matching the details with a small printed image on a piece of paper. He was completely in his own world.

Changed, Changing Hayes Valley

At the Public Safety meeting in Hayes Valley, I was able to see all the diversity of my neighborhood squeezed into one place. I greatly underestimated the wide-range of people living in my beat. And I had said it was diverse.

Attendance was high, filling the room. Passion was high, and many spoke. Yet, public safety wasn't the topic for long. The residence, who dominated the meeting with questions, dug deeper than the publics' safety, and moved on to why the public was unsafe.

It's a lack of community involvement on the part of the police, many said. They don't know what their doing or how they should do it.

Suggestions ranged from community outreach and better communication to a mandate forcing 86 percent of police officers to live in the area they work. The latter being illegal, Captain Ann Mannix made some suggestions.

We're trying to create more beats cops, who can walk their area and be more accessible for questions, she said. Also, we're trying to keep the same officers patrolling the same neighborhoods.

Much more happened during this meeting, and I'll cover it in my meeting story. These meetings have proven to be an indispensable source of information and sources.

For me, blurring the line between journalist and intrigued youth has been the best place to write from. Also, these meetings are mostly small and organized by only a couple people, so staying after and helping put away chairs is a great way to talk and get a foot inside.

Yep.

Castro (blog 3)

I’ve arrived at the Castro during one of the most coldest and damp days. As soon as I stepped out of the Muni I felt the showers on my hair, face and sweater. Luckily, I had an umbrella so I wasn’t completely soaked.

As I was walking down the block, across the street from the Castro Theatre I saw drag queens at every other corner. Most of them were holding rainbow umbrellas, which had letters hanging from them as if they were wind-chimes. One particular drag queen, who was wearing a purple dress and floppy purple wig with pink highlights, handed me a flyer which stated, “Vote Frankie for Emperor in 2011.” Unfortunately since I’m not a Castro resident I can’t vote.

Turning right on 18^th Street my eyes caught sight of the GLBT History Museum. One of the volunteers at the museum told it was the first GLBT museum to open in the United States, but the first in the world opened in Berlin. Feeling intrigued I paid the museum’s $5.00 admission fee and explored its exhibit.

Their exhibit consisted many photographs and documents from famous gays and lesbians from 1922 to 2008. Lyon-Martin was one of their better exhibits. The Lyon-Martin section had books written by Del Martin including, No Secret Anymore, Lesbian Woman, and Battered Wives. Their section also included photographs and brief overviews of their accomplishments during Lyon-Martin’s activist days.

The sex toy exhibit was one of GLBT’s bolder selections which had several dildos and vibrators from the 1960s. One of the vibrators belonged to World War II lesbian veteran Helen Harder, who was an elementary school teacher and lived in San Francisco during her final days. As strange as this might sound, but the sex toys were actually one of the important parts of gay and lesbian history.

Another exhibit that stood out to me was a pink velvet gown with gold floral trimmings. Right next to the gown was a thick diamond incrusted necklace and matching chandelier earrings. The following items belonged to Henry W. Dieckoff (a.k.a Bareness Eugenia Diekoff), who was a prominent figure in San Francisco’s Drag scene in the 1940s. Dieckoff was also famous for starting a worldwide fundraising organization called, “Imperial Court” in 1965.

I also noticed that the museum sells an assortment of GLBT t-shirts with art deco designs on them. I may consider buying one of their t-shirts the next time I’m at the GLBT museum.

Although the GLBT History museum was very small, their eclectic exhibits more then made up for its lack of size.

http://www.glbthistory.org/museum/

Unity Media Mixer.

Hey guys. I just wanted to let you guys know about a free networking opportunity that will be held this Wednesday. Here are the details:

Time	Wednesday, February 23 · 5:30pm - 8:00pm
Location	Infusion Lounge 124 Ellis Street (near Powell Street BART Station) San Francisco, CA
Created By	Kim Bardakian
	A FREE networking mixer for Bay Area Media & PR Professionals! Participating Groups Include: Asian American Journalists Association/ SF Bay Area Chapter Bay Are Black Journalists Association National Lesbian & Gay Journalists Association/NorCal Chapter Public Relations Society of America, San Francisco Public Relations Society of America, Silicon Valley Society of Professional Journalists/NorCal Chapter --Reconnect with former colleagues! Network with New Contacts-- FREE ADMISSION & COMPLIMENTARY APPETIZERS!

http://www.facebook.com/#!/event.php?eid=195247010488812

Underground Gems of North Beach.

The streets are filled with lovely French and Italian accents as I walk down the busy streets of North Beach. For once I find meter parking and so I decide to walk aimlessly around the neighborhood. Unfamiliar eyes meet with mine and throughout the whole time I think to myself, "just let go of that silly paranoia." I soon hear the inviting sounds of jazz and follow it into a small record store. The place is filled with used records and I feel like a kid inside a candy shop. I find a couple of good death rock records, some interesting-looking international records and a bunch of jazz and blues records. I pick up an old Simon and Garfunkel record to relax myself during the restless winter nights and I keep on searching. Finally I hit the jackpot as I see Led Zeppelin III staring eye-level at me. The cashier, Brian Finnley, talks to me about the store (101 Music) and suggests some places for me to visit on my next trip back.

I keep walking against the wind to the library, where I try to check out a history book about the neighborhood of North Beach but sadly find that it's already being checked out. The library is quite small and offers a slim but diverse collection of books. I start to head out and meet my friend at the Stinking Rose, where we share a garlic pizza and a giant sundae. I try to strike up a conversation with the server, but have little luck. Then we walk back out onto Columbus Ave. and I decide to go into a bar that caught my eye last time I was in the neighborhood.

I drag my friend into Specs' Twelve Adler Museum Cafe, where I last saw an intriguing older gentleman with a black coat and a top hat. Inside there was a diverse crowd that had many interesting people that caught my eye, interesting in the eccentric way that they dressed and in their distinguishing facial features. I talked to the bartender who was rather informative in discussing the decor at Specs. The place can be described as a dive bar, but there is much more to it than just that. The bartender, Mike, who refused to give me his last name or contact information, told us that the bar was named after the owner Specs Simmons and is filled with "things that belong in a museum or in the back of people's garages."

There is also a note hanging in the frame of a wall that was put inside a bottle by an old bartender who worked at Specs. The bartender threw the bottle into the ocean with a note that asked whoever may find the bottle to send it back to the address at Specs. After some time, a man in Thailand found the bottle and did just that. The bar is also filled with clever bumper sticks, one which reads, “The son of a bitch down the bar from me should write himself a suicide note, so that what he forgets to do tonight, he can accomplish tomorrow.”

The night grow bitterly cold and I walked out with every intention of coming back.

Sub-Mission

Not at all what I expected.

A shitty band was playing when we first got there. It was almost intolerable to listen to, but as soon as they finished and the woman in charge of making the show cohesive got on stage, I knew I'd landed in the right place.

The next act was a burlesque dancer. She tromped on stage with severe swagger and started to strip. She must have been at least a hundred pounds overweight, but her fluid movements knew no restrictions. She was fearless.

The crowd, almost as interesting as the acts, seemed to have wandered in from some nearby gypsy settlement. All in various states of undress, with holey clothes, dreadlocks, and a kind of confident lack of inhibition that was extremely entertaining to watch.

The next burlesque act was a slimmer woman with clown make up who did an act with shaving cream. She swirled the white foam into pie tins and, at strategic intervals and intentional clumsiness, she smashed the pie tins over her breasts and shimmied off stage.

I decided to walk around because the venue was deceptively large, and the street performer who had told me about the show had said that there would be live art, a hookah bar, and some amateur one-man-acts.

I found the live art first. A man was spray painting a huge portrait of Dolores Huerta in an outside enclosure. I looked around and asked if this was a one-man act or if others could join the art, and apparently it was exclusive. The painting was impressive. I was told that the man with the can was a local street artist and that the people who planned the event has specifically asked him to join them. When I approached him and asked which ones were his, he gave me an apprehensive look and I immediately realized that street artists don't just give our their tag names. I apologized and told him how great I thought his work was and walked awkwardly away.

I wandered toward the back room and found the most ridiculous juxtaposition or a klezmer band and a hookah lounge. There was a woman belly dancing in front of them (apparently not one of them, but moved by the funky Eastern-European beat.)

When I wandered back up front, there were two clown-like performers on unicycles slinging one another around. A friend of mine pointed out a guy that had just come into the place who's name is Lynn Gentry. Anyone who has been to the ferry building has probably seen him. He writes
poetry on command. I believe he always has a typewriter and just writes out whatever inspires him at the moment.

He told me that he's been planning on expanding his venture to a kind of poetry cart and somehow incorporate his guitar. I want to make a book out of his life story.

I feel like the gallery opening was almost a side note to my evening. It was wonderful and engaging, but as you can see from my descriptions of The Lusty Trusty Ball, it just wasn't weird enough to take the spotlight. I'll post pictures anyway.

Alas my photos are too big. I'll have to leave you hanging and figure this out. To be continued..

Valentine's in Folsom

Venturing in Folsom the day following Valentine's Day enabled me to find out what people did without interrupting their loving moments.  In the popular biker bar, Hole in the Wall, the loving ambience still glowed on those who had a special night, and just the same, did not on those who did nothing special.

When I asked a middle-aged man standing at the bar with butt-hugging pants how his Valentine's Day had gone, he responded that it was nothing special since he gets his loving pretty much every other day.

"From your significant other?"

"Something like that..."

Another man with a tough look and leather jacket told me of his romantic dinner with his partner: candle-lit, rose pedals sprinkled on the table cloth, and copious amounts of beer, their drink of choice.

But the most interesting story was of a young guy, 28-years-old and fairly new to the city from Missouri.  His name was Jimmy, and he left the Midwest to escape persecution for basically "being a faggot," as he said in his southern accent.  He told me that for Valentine's he went out for drinks with his new boyfriend.  They didn't exchange flowers or chocolates, but instead Jimmy gave his boyfriend a leash.

"A leash?" I asked him.

"Yeah," he said, "And I asked him, 'Will you hold my leash?'"

I should have known what he was talking about (being schooled about the leather S&M world by a leatherman I befriended recently) but I didn't want to assume that this leash was to be tied to the spiked dog collar he was wearing.  I though that to be romantic...in a weird, kinky way.

But Jimmy didn't get the response he expected, or better yet, wanted.  Turns out, his boyfriend is nothing like him.  He's not into leather, not into leashes, and not even out of the closet. He's a younger Latino-Italian guy who wears stylish clothes, well-groomed, and certainly not comfortable walking down the Castro holding another guy's leash.  Totally different from Jimmy who usually walks the streets of San Francisco- not only Folsom or the Castro- in jeans, a shirt usually with obscenities all over it, beanie, a leather trench coat, and, recently, a collar, signifying he is "owned."

Of course he was hurt and felt rejected, but what did that mean, I asked him?

"Pretty much," he said while taking a sip of his beer, "that he's just not my type."

And this just confirmed that, contrary to popular belief, not all "fags" are the same.

A Noe Valley Update

I've been to Noe Valley three times. I'm seeing familiar faces, babies, dogs and coffee cups from Bernie's. Noe Valley and I are beginning to get familiar with one another. Researching the history of Noe Valley and learning more about its residents came easier than I thought.

Noe Valley district was named after Jose de Jesus Noe, the last Mexican mayor of Yerba Buena, currently San Francisco. The neighborhood began forming in the late 19th century. The history of the neighborhood can be seen in the architecture of the homes, which are of Victorian and Edwardian styles. According to Wikipedia.com Noe Valley has the highest concentration of row houses in San Francisco.

The boundaries that encompass Noe Valley are 22nd Street to the north, Randall Street to the south, Dolores Street to the east and Grand View Avenue to the west.

According to Zillow.com, 29.4 percent of the residents in Noe Valley are in their 30’s; followed by 18.8 percent being in their 40’s and 14.5 percent being in their 20’s. Approximately 51.5 percent of Noe Valley residents are single and 34.4 percent are married. There are 14.2 percent of residents who have kids. The demographics on Zillow.com state there are 5,139 residents in Noe Valley. The medium household income in Noe Valley is $77,479, higher than San Francisco’s median household income of $55,221. There are roughly 30.6 percent single males and 20.8 percent single female populace in Noe Valley.

The website, Zillow.com also states that there are three types of people that live in Noe Valley: power singles, multi-lingual urbanites and bright lights, big city. The power singles are highly educated professionals, many with an advanced degree, that have earned high income. The Multi-lingual urbanites, their income ranges from moderate to upper scale. They have a high school or college education, speak two languages and work a variety of jobs. Bright lights, big city residents are very mobile singles that range from 20’s to 40’s; they usually rent an apartment or a condo. They typically have received a college education.

http://www.zillow.com/local-info/CA-San-Francisco/Noe-Valley/r_268338/

http://www.noevalleymerchants.com/

Castro Day 2 (blog2)

Walking across the street from Eureka Valley Recreation Center, I noticed two mini murals on a small building. One mural was made entirely out of pieces of glass, which depicted kids and adults holding hands, numbers, books and smiling faces. The other mural right next to the glass depicted protestors and musicians, which included bright colors like red, blue green, and purple. Both murals were accompanied by words like social justice, freedom, peace, diversity, equality and acceptance. The murals were so eye-catching it was hard to stop staring at them. It was one of those days where I wish I had a camera (note to self buy a camera). The murals belonged to Harvey Milk’s Academy.

The murals from the school made me want to explore the neighborhood further. When I walked towards Baghdad’s Café, I stopped when I noticed another mural behind the café. I examined the mural, it represented the same guiding principles the school’s murals did; acceptance, love, equality, and social justice. The only difference is the following mural was a little more explicit. The mural depicted homosexuals who’ve died of aids, transgender women and men, flowers, and last but not least Harvey Milk. It was probably one of the few murals that have actually kept my attention for more then 10 minutes (once again I need a camera). Unfortunately, the artist’s name was chipping off so I wasn’t able to figure out painted the mural (better google it next time).

I noticed the sun was setting when I heard a strange growl, it sounded like a mini earthquake. The sound was coming from my stomach, I was so hungry. I decided to check out Café Flore to see what kind of food they had. When the waitress handed me the menu, my mouth salivated when read the kind of pizzas, pastas, gourmet burgers, and salads they had. I frowned when I noticed the prices of each meal, ranging from $10.00 to 15.00. My mind was made up after realizing that even their macaroni and cheese was a little pricy ($6.50 for a small plate of mac and cheese, I don’t think so). I gave the waitress back the menu and left the restaurant.

Walking across the street I saw a card board display of an over-sized ice cream cone. My mind and stomach crying out for food, I walked over to the owner of the ice cream display, “Super Duper Burger”. I went inside the burger place and ordered a cheese burger and a medium soda, which was $7.00 all together. However, the burger wasn’t so ‘super duper’, but at least it wasn’t terrible either (I should have gone to that Mexican place). I think the owner should change the name of the restaurant; it might build up future costumers’ expectations too much only to leave them disappointed. The second day at Castro made me realized how cheap I was (the glamorous life of a college student).

Links:

http://cafeflore.com/

http://www.superdupersf.com/

Hayes Valley Blog 2

Both the neighborhood and myself are beginning to open up, but still it's strange to investigate stories as broad as street1 and hood1. Strange because it lacks aim, it lacks sureness. With an actual story, we know our questions, we know what facts we want. Getting them may be tough, but hopefully not as awkward as the broad, sweeping questions we've had to ask complete strangers.

But I've started to spend more time in my neighborhood, just hanging out, doing homework, waiting for sources as much as finding them. They come though, luckily.

Hayes Valley is fortunately filled with other people just hanging out, ready to talk, even discuss. So the only obstacle is me, who doesn't mind asking official questions to official persons, but has problems breaking the ice with people on the streets.

It hasn't been a huge problem, though, just a part of the job I'm still uncomfortable with. What's been some tactics you guys use?

Besides that, I'm definitely getting the lay of the land, which feels like a micro-city. Hayes Valley seems to have all the characteristics, problems, and social strata of an entire city, which makes for a real good practice "arena."

The local politics, mainly the Hayes Valley Neighborhood Association, is well organized and easy to reach. The streets are laid out in easy to read grids, with each block fully representing a different crowd. Also, the neighborhood has a definate center, at Octavia and Hayes, where all the shops and the park are.

Nothing much else to report, but I'm looking forward to actual news stories, there are some good ones out here.

Local Oceanview Business Burglarized Last Night

The RC Package House located at 98 Broad Street was broken into last night.

Shop owners say the only items taken were the cash register and some candy bars.

The security cameras showed two masked men entering the store at 4:23 a.m., two hours before it was set to open.

Police are continuing their investigation, though no suspects have been named. They asked for anyone with information about the crime to contact the San Francisco Police Department at (415) 553-0123.

No one was injured during the burglary.

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Garage Sales

Speaking of public forums as we were, this is an amazing resource. Seriously. It never would have occurred to me, but I brought along a friend to the Haight this time (bad for reporting some think, but considering the amount of social phobia I have when it comes to talking to people - and being around them in general - I figured this was probably a very good idea).

Anyway, this friend thought that it would be an excellent idea to talk to the locals. I agree, sounds like a great idea. Unfortunately, I didn't actually feel inclined to speak to them as much as I knew that I just really, really needed to hear what they had to say on such a sunny Saturday afternoon.

So we turn down our first block and, lo and behold, there's a garage sale. Sensical, but considering I'd never seen one outside of my little hometown of Salida, I was a little surprised that it was just chillin' in the Haight. Of course my friend fast-tracks it over there while I continue to freak out the whole time under my breath about how I really don't want to have to talk to people about *whatever*. What am I going to say? Am I going to be all awkward? Are they even going to talk to me? What the hell am I supposed to do if they do start talking to me? When am I supposed to pull out my notebook? What if they think I'm being a creeper? What if they think it's a come-on? What if they start coming on to me?

I forgot many of my fears, but I'm sure that if you'd put me back out on the streets, they'll come flying right back. I still haven't gotten over it. Apparently I'm not as creepy or weird as I thought they would think, but rather an easy person to talk to, I guess.

These two middle-aged women were running the garage sale and started telling me all these stories about the homeless people in the neighborhood and how things had gone since Sit/Lie passed. Dude. I thought I was going to die. They were incredible stories, and they told all these things to me! Unprovoked and completely not creeped out, PLUS they knew I was writing for SF State.

I know, I'm psyched for me, too. It's about time I figured it out.

Well, let me be honest: I didn't really figure it all out yet. I'm just significantly less scared than I was last time I was there. It's just so much less intimidating with another person..... Really. That's really what I need more than anything else is less intimidation.

Yes, I'm intimidated. I'd be willing to shout it from the rooftops as a bold declaration if I wasn't so damn terrified.

And All That Jazz

So, yesterday was quite an eventful day. I woke up, got dressed, and headed out to Fillmore by late afternoon. At around 4 p.m., I stopped by Cafe International and listened to jazz for about an hour. It's interesting to see how much places like Cafe International come alive with music.

Cafe International wasn't incredibly packed, but there were enough people for the concert. A lot of the musicians were unknown, too, and when I went up to try and interview one of the musicians, they were too shy to talk to me. Oh well. Nothing I can do if they don't want to talk to me!

Fillmore Street is known for the jazz movement here in San Francisco. It's an experience within itself. So many musicians, including Louis Armstrong have made their way to San Francisco to perform jazz during the movement.

Just thought I'd share a little blurb about my experience there.

South Park (not the show) and China Basin

South Park, between 2nd and 3rd Street in South Beach is amazing. Snuggled between a variety of apartment and business buildings and a few restaurants, this park has a kid's play center and plenty of benches and tables to relax at. Maybe it's just me, but not enough places have benches for everyone.

This park attracts everyone from young professionals, to families and hipsters. I visited the park my second time in South Beach, and I've been back nearly every trip. South Park is crowded most days, especially when it's a nice day, and everyone is friendly. It's clear that locals come here to get a bit of greenery amidst the towering skyscrapers a parking lots of South Beach. I love this park...it's cute, it's friendly, and it's unassuming. If you're in the area, go visit there. I guarantee you will meet a friend.

I visited the China Basin last week for the first time in my three years living in San Francisco. It's like another world across the 3rd Street bridge. As I walked past the proud AT&T Park displaying World Series posters, I was greeted by vast parking lots and grande residential and corporation buildings.

There is little to no foot traffic, a rarity in the city, and hardly no noise. There is only one Muni train that ventures out there. It's much quieter in the China Basin, and slightly underdeveloped, although there are several constructions sights in progress.

The best part was walking along Mission Creek Park. It was a beautiful day when I visited, and people lined the Mission Bay canal. The house boats located there are beautiful and diverse, but gated and i've had little success meeting anyone who live there.

All in all I really enjoyed this area. China Basin is like the best of both worlds. Although there are hardly any eateries or shopping centers there, all are accessible just a bridge away.

THIS JUST IN!

I'm sure most of you are doing well gathering information on your beat, as am I. Just wanted to inform all of you of celebrity sightings until the 19th! Two days ago, Matt Damon, Gwyneth Paltrow and other celebrities began filming part of the movie "Contagion" here in S.F.

Here's a listing of the streets that are going to be closed off and I know I will try and sneak in there to get some action shots or possibly interviews! (The interview is a long-shot and I realize that)

-- Today: Grove Street from Larkin to Polk streets, 7 a.m. to 7 p.m.; Laguna Street from Hayes to Fell streets and Linden Street from Octavia Boulevard to Buchanan Street, 3 to 8 p.m.

-- Saturday: Sansome Street from California to Pine streets, 7 a.m. to 8 p.m.; Minna Street from Fifth to Mary streets, 5 p.m. to 1 a.m. Sunday.

-- Sunday: Taylor Street from Filbert to Union streets and Aladdin Terrace from Taylor street to the Easterly Terminus intersection, 8 a.m. to 2 p.m.

Read more: http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2011/02/10/BA0L1HLI5H.DTL#ixzz1Dfd5Sq00

Helpful hints.

Ladies (and gentlemen) with ponytails, if you keep a pen hidden in your hair, it's much easier to get contact information/notes on the fly.

I'm having fun developing my ninja skills, hope you share yours too!

P.S. I'm attending a gallery opening (at the Slingshot Gallery), and a show with street performers and artists at Sub-Mission later tonight. Fun stories to come.

Join if you can!

I love extra credit: News Forum

On Tuesday there was a News Forum featuring editors from local news organizations. The panel consisted of Eugenia Chien from Muni Diaires, Lydia Chavez from Mission Local, Michael Stoll from SF Public Press, Pueng Vong From Yahoo! News and Queena Kim from Bay Citizen News. The forum gave students a chance to read real perspectives from real people in the journalism industry.

Chien is a San Francisco State graduate that started Muni Diaries as in her reporting class and blossomed into a website with mostly user-generated stories about transportation. Vong was an advocate for citizen journalism allowing anyone to report stories within their neighborhood.

The San Francisco Public Press, represented by Stoll, was very different from the other publications in their approach to journalism. It mostly uses interns and students to create their content. In contrast to Yahoo! News, The San Francisco Public Press vigorously fact check and are a non-commercial publication. They model their publication after public broadcast.

Chavez says that Mission Local's is also mostly student generated. Chavez says that Mission Local is mostly used as training for journalist in the Berkeley and the rest of the Bay Area. However, she doubts how the publication will be doing in a couple of years if they don't find funding for the program.

Kim says that the Bay Citizen has greatly benefited from corporate sponsorships to keep their publication funded. However, she still hesistates to recommend going to graduate school for journalism. She argues that unlike law school, an advanced degree will not yield the return you would expect to pay back for school.

Overall, the forum gave students a chance to learn more about the current status of the industry and network for future opportunities for internships and jobs.

Union Janitors Demonstrate after being Replaced

There was a demonstration in front of 1 Market St. in front of the Bank of America on February 1st, 2011. The demonstrators from SEIU Local 87 were protesting the building owners move to oust unionized janitors and replace them with a corporate cleaning service.
The building not only houses Bank of America but also the San Francisco Municipal Transportation Agency offices. This building requires regular maintenence and janitorial services that are now filled by Aim to Please, Inc. 

"'Aim to Please' was brought in on Monday," said Patty Guzman, one of the janitors protesting the new corporation. She is now without a job and says she won't be able to pay her rent.

Although the protest consisted of about 20 people, the demonstrators used drums, megaphones and a large inflatable rat to rally and get attention to their plight. The demonstrators consisted mostly of minority groups with many Spanish speakers.The group was especially loud and disruptive to customers entering and exiting the Bank of America.

According to SEIU advocate John Solis, there are about 12 families that will be affected by the move.
Guzman, like others affected, believe that it is corporate greed that has cost her the job. Guzman vows that she will continue to protest until her old job is back.

First impressions

When I first checked out SoMa, I was unsure what to look for.  As soon as I exited the Civic Center metro station, I quickly went on the defense.  There was a bunch of people on Market St., mostly men, looking like their up to no good, just standing around, scoping out the scene.  I few Hispanic men where shooting quarters.  Some crackheads were talking to themselves.  I wonder if this was the spot my father wound up when he came to explore the city by himself.  He said he thought he chose the worst stop to exit the train, and I agree with him.  

San Francisco Federal Building
Photo courtesy of Morphosis

But the further I ventured into the neighborhoods, the more my perspective changed.  The streets and buildings were well kept and seemed vintage.  Hardly any of the homes had fresh paint on its facade, but the vibrant colors they were painted made them stand out, especially as they were aligned  near industrial warehouses and dull offices.  The federal building stands out the most, especially after business hours, making the tall concrete building seem stern and cold.  

Noticing the businesses that were being run, I saw a community trying to empower itself.  Episcopal Community Services runs three charities in the neighborhood.  Their slogan is "Building Community. Developing Skills. Enriching Lives."  The West Bay Pilipino Multi-Service Center runs an after-school program.  There elementary kids fill the hall with loud laughter, the contents of their backpacks all over the tables, and certainly not using their "inside voice."  Around the block, the South of Market Community Action Network organizes the low-income, mostly people of color community.  In the back of the office, youth are having a meeting to propose ways they can have more influence in the nearby recreational center, which often closes them out.  Down the street, United Playaz gives a space where for the urban youth to go hang out.  They believe "it takes a hood to save the hood."  

One-way streets run throughout SoMa

And this is just what I noticed.  I am aware of the wide variety of "scenes"  SoMa has to offer: art galleries, restaurants and eateries, an array of bars and clubs, and even the businesses that offer more than just their services, like the California Institute of Integral Studies displaying a Chicana art exhibit.  

Being new to this city, I entered SoMa without any prejudice.  I have heard a lot about this neighborhood, but not really knew why it was so popular.  Now I understand why.  I am looking forward to learning more about this community, and what stories the people have to tell.  

Bayview District

So walking through the streets in Bayview hasn't been the easiest. I know that there has to be good stories there, but my shy approach is not helping at all. Normally I would be ok just sucking it up and going up to strangers and striking up a conversation, but in the Bayview, that's just not done. There's no roaming the neighborhood to explore or going up to strangers to strike up a conversation. That just waves a huge flag that says Im not from here, which many noticed since they kept asking if I was lost. I've had a bit of success going to community organizations and shops because they'll actually talk to me, but pretty much none when it comes to people on the street. As I walked around on Saturday I notice 3 different groups of men barbecuing on different corners. I feel like there's a story there but have 0 ideas on how to approach it. When I tried talking to one group of them, they pretty much blew me off. I figure this is something I'll have to figure out because not all stories will come easy so I guess the challenge is good. Im heading back on Friday, I'll be strategizing new approaches till then...

Hayes Valley, some beginnings

There very first time I went to my assigned neighborhood, Hayes Valley, I brought nothing journalistic with me. I thought about it, about my notepad, my pens, my digital recorder (of which I'm a handicapped advocate), and decided no. I first needed a casual stroll, a chance to observe in the safety of citizenry. This approach helps me start off on the ground floor, where the neighborhood is less of an assignment and more of an environment. It also puts off the hyperactivity of journalism a little bit longer.

By the next visit, now in a journalistic role and feeling slightly on-the-spot, I began entering the shops and awkwardly introducing myself and my mission. The first few slip-ups were my fault, making pathetic stumbles from browsing customer to journalist with actual questions about the neighborhood. I usually wound up with a business card and a “beautiful neighborhood” line. Other shop owners were bothered I wasn't going to buy anything, and gave unending preference to real shoppers. But each new shop was a new situation, a new rehearsal in small-talk. There were lots of shops, and I got better each time, neither hiding my notepad, nor flaunting it.

Asking random people on the street their impressions of the neighborhood didn't really work out. Perhaps if the whole thing was filmed, with time for hundreds of one-liners, sure; but mostly I wound up with confused stares and shrugs. This was an approach I found time-consuming with little payoff. However, there are many places to sit down outside, and those who were just out getting sun and air, tended to be more responsive and happier to help.

That night, having done research before my visit, I learned of a Hayes Valley Neighborhood Association meeting. This is one of the information watering holes for the neighborhood. They got right down to business, addressing issues, data and upcoming events. Being the youngest one in the room, by far, all the board members were delighted to help me out and answer any questions. The supervisor of district five was also there, and just as ready to give an opinion. I stayed pretty quiet during the meeting and just listened, but stayed afterward to help put away chairs. A lesson I learned about covering meetings, at least in neighborhoods, the ones who stay after and put away chairs are often the most devoted and most informed. It also offered plenty of time to talk and get new leads.

Intimidated? No... Not anymore

So, walking down the streets of Fillmore during the work week is much different than I would have expected. Residents are so much nicer! I mean, I was only there for about an hour or two before I headed to work, but even then I was able to get perspective about Fillmore from residents.

During my initial visits to Fillmore (which happened during weekends), residents were less willing to talk to some random journalism student. I enjoyed my pastry at Fillmore Bakery and was able to talk to some SFSU students who live on Fillmore or frequently visit (due to the jazz night at Cafe International and the bars, of course).

I love to people-watch, so I just sat outside and just observed the culture that lay behind Fillmore.

Oh, and every Sunday around 4 p.m., Cafe International holds a free jazz concert. I plan on checking that out sometime soon!

News Forum

At first I thought attending the News Forum meeting was just another tedious extra credit assignment that I could fall asleep on. I was proven wrong when people from well-known publications such as Yahoo News and Muni Diaries arrived at the meeting.

These professional journalists had really opened my eyes in terms of what’s happening with journalism currently and what may happen to it later. Before attending the meeting I felt a little uncertain about journalism, since so many journalists are losing their jobs. I was afraid that journalism is a dying concept and that I would no longer have a place for the skills I acquired. Peung, a representative from Yahoo News said journalism is not dying it is simply changing.

Another journalist mentioned that the old ways may be dying, but there are so many new developments in the field that it won’t be so difficult for a journalism student like me to find a job. For example, I can become a copy editor for an online publication or be an online producer.

Eugenia, founder and writer of the Muni Diaries, said that we should experiment with different areas in journalism. For example, Eugenia is an independent journalist and although her website isn’t paying her bills, but her website is still popular among locals because a lot of people enjoy reading strange stories about public transportation.

Graduate school was another important topic covered at the meeting. One of the students who attended asked if applying to graduate school straight out of being an undergrad was the best thing to do. Most of the special guests had mixed feelings about graduate school, not only because of money but also because we may want to change our profession.

In fact they said the best thing to do after we graduate from the San Francisco State Journalism program is to freelance for a little while and possibly experiment with different mediums in the journalism field. At least if one freelances for a while it makes it easier for them to figure out if they want to stay in the journalism field or not.

Lastly, the guests also mentioned they are always looking for freelancers and interns, which is great news for SF State Journalism students. One of the representatives mentioned that they will train their interns to do multimedia, editing, and writing work. If the interns wrote great articles they can get paid for their pieces.

The meeting was so enlightening I may consider asking one of the representatives for an internship this summer.

Dichotomy of Culture

The Ocean View, Merced and Ingleside neighborhoods, more commonly referred to as the OMI hold a history that's rarely seen today. Yet, it has become something of a cultural phenomenon: a case study to be delved into with the most introspective of purposes. Its downright interesting.

I grew up in the suburbs of Chicago. When I tell people I came from the Midwest, they see a corn-fed white-boy that herded cattle or worked on the farm throughout much of my young adult life. However, until the age of 14 I was knee deep in a cultural triad that would define a large portion of my perspectives and beliefs up through the beginning of high school. The largest populations surrounding the greater Chicagoland area were Black, White(polish predominantly) and Indian. We were told there were neighborhoods to avoid, streets to walk around and hallways that would hold certain dangers were we to venture down them. We were never told why; though, there was an innate stigma that attached itself to these areas and the races and cultures that inhabited them.

Its different here. These stigma's still exist, yet perhaps it is my additional 13 years of real-world experience that have allowed me to view them with less of a perception of possible victimization. As I walk down Arch St. or Broad St. or Farallones Ave., there are signs that bring me back to my childhood. Gang symbols, graffiti and drug culture are prevalent throughout the OMI, in sharp contrast to the historical context by which many still view this area. Though now, the strong sense of fear is gone. Crime, robbery, assault and even murders are still reported regularly throughout the OMI, though it is what it is. Perhaps this is what comes with "big city livin'."

Its exciting to be here. Its exciting to smell the smells, hear the sounds, and revel in the folderol of life. From what I've seen, the key to survival is twofold. Civility and candor go hand in hand when talking to the residents and learning what it is to be a resident and member of this community. Can't wait for next week!

Balboa Park Being Repaired

San Francisco Chronicle ran a full spread about the plans to repair run-down Balboa Park Station, a major BART and Muni transit area. The story focuses on future plans to make the station more safe and accessible. The Supervisor for the district , John Avalos, was quoted saying that the station is a "transportation backbone" with "terrible conditions." There is a guesstimate of $200 million going into the project. How does the community feel about it? Necessary?

Vanguard Revisited

After my first day at Castro one of the clerks from a second-hand clothing store invited me to a launch party celebrating the return of the 1960s magazine, “The Vanguard.” The magazine was run by gay, lesbian, and trans gender youths of that time.

At first I was a little reluctant to go because the party was from 7 p.m. to 10 p.m. and I wasn’t used to being in city during in the dark, but then I realized this could the perfect opportunity to meet potential sources for my later articles.

It took me about 30 minutes to find the location of the party, since the girl who invited me to the party didn’t exactly tell me what the place looked like. My eyes widened slightly when I realized the party was at a Lutheran church (St. Francis), which was odd because the only words I would associate a church with are prayers and the holy bible.

Since I got to the party a little early I got to see the pastor of the church and a couple other people set up. They brought out chips, candy, soda, and a photo booth. But the first thing I noticed was the old typewriters on a table. The pastor told me that the typewriters went with the theme of the party.

When the guests arrived some of them immediately walked towards the typewriters and I attempted to use one of the typewriters. I couldn’t help but think, “It must have taken most of the Vanguard writers 20 minutes to get one sentence typed.” I scanned the room and noticed some men and women in drag and one guy wearing black leotard with white angel wings and a black halo.

I was probably one of the few heterosexuals there. At first I felt a little out of place, but most of the guests at the party made me feel completely welcomed. I got to hear about their “coming out” stories, accomplishments in college, and even traded contact information.

The one person who stood out to me at the party was 65-year-old Felicia, who was actually genetically male. Felicia told us how she served in the army when she was still a man and how during the 1960s she was arrested for dressing like a girl. I was amazed at how fun and vibrant Felicia was, even with all hardships she experienced.

The party felt more like a small gathering with its modest snack foods and small number of guests. Even though the Vanguard Launch party may not have been very glamorous, but I still enjoyed myself, the guests have really gotten me out of my shell.