Column

My lover, San Francisco, is a fickle bitch.

Five months ago I decided to move outside of my comfort zone, my studio apartment in downtown SF, and in with my sisters. Financially, it was perfect, spiritually it was familiar. Living with my sisters was exactly what I needed. I went from the Tender-Knob area of SF to Hunter's Point (a.k.a., HP). The former being prostitution and drug addiction, while the latter is poverty straight up and down. With only 7 miles between these two places the differences couldn't be more drastic. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I thought I was in for surprises with my sisters, not a wake-up call about social injustice in San Francisco. See HP is unemployment, gang violence, and the highest cancer rate in the nation. Picture a place with no coffee house, library or donut shop. Picture a place with no vendors. Hunter’s Point is gritt and grime while hosting the nicest view of the Bay.

Hunter’s Point can’t uncurl the bend of an abandoned shipyard as much as it can move-on-up all on its own. My heart brakes for this place.

My intent in writing about this is not political, but rather to somehow have this hurt a little less. I know that gentrification will soon arrive to Hunter’s Point as it has in every other area in SF. I also know that no matter which side of that debate your opinion lies, we can all agree that milk and eggs should be a safe bus ride away from anyone. That’s just a basic human right. I also know that my heartache was caused in part by my own apathy.

But I also blame her, my lover. I blame her for treating Bay View like Cinderella. Cinderella without the magic mice. Cinderella with just regular nasty mice. I blame her for cutting the N Muni line on weekends. I blame her for not providing, for all its citizens, the availability of a well-lit park.

What now? Do I leave her? Do I pack my bags because she has fooled me into believing that I lived in a place with no REAL ghetto? How could she after all? Revolutions were started in San Francisco! How could those two realities co-exist? Do I pack my bags because I don’t want to live amid such a financially disproportionate unjust reality, thinly veiled by a slogan of liberalism? Do I leave her because she has made me face the depths of my naive nature?

I started Vetted Word to make a difference in the lives of people who have given up on their art (not naive - novice at worst). What would I be giving up if I simply moved to the suburbs as another poetically scorned lover?

No. I refuse to leave her. Instead I'll try my hand at some small sense of resolve to this neighborhood.

If there’s ever a shopping center built in Hunter’s Point, I intend to shop in it. If there’s ever a coffee shop built in Hunter’s Point, I’ll be a patron. That being said, it is time for me to move out of Hunter’s Point for the simple reason that public transportation is a joke out here. So I leave well informed albeit heartbroken.

Heartbroken because what I thought was ghetto before, the Mission District, has shops of every kind on every corner. People in the projects of the Western Edition are in the heart of the city. Bus lines and train lines are vast in both neighborhoods. Hunter’s Point has nothing, it is not a neighborhood but rather forgotten through and through. Maybe if people knew just how desolate this area of SF is, there would be a movement. A revolution for our times - VIVA Hunter’s Point! Because I assure you there is no Prince Charming holding HP’s glass slipper.

I’m heartbroken because I’ve discovered that my apathy is part of the problem, and have no idea how to become part of the solution. Will spending my money in the 'hood really help? To that I ask, how else will we strengthen our weakest link if not by supporting it financially?

I’m glad I stepped out of my comfort zone. If for nothing else, I was confronted daily with the question of poetry and poverty. If writing poetry helped me weather drug addiction, being a child of an alcoholic, and living on the poverty line growing up, why not widen my current vision of Vetted Word into these arenas? Why not start programs for the displaced in society? Why not try and tackle bigger issues? Think bigger Vetted Word! Simply bigger.

This has been quite an experience and one that makes me encourage you to step outside of your own comfort zones. After all, comfort only really exists in our own minds.