Today is December 26th and I’m lying on my bed, drinking some tea and listening to the sound of thousands of cars pass by my apartment on their way to a better place. There were two experiences today that inspired me to title this blog post like I did. As many of you know, I don’t title blog posts until after they’re written but this time, I knew exactly what I wanted to say.
After having coffee and taking photos in Union Square today, I was heading back to my place in lower Nob Hill and decided to take a detour and head through the Tenderloin. I never have a “direction” when I grab my camera and go for a walk but the journey took me to city hall and down to the Mission. I stopped at Starbucks to grab a coffee and catch up on some work.
I stopped briefly at Ellis and Jones in The Tenderloin to take a photo of the street corner. It was perfect lighting and I only know this because every other photo of street corners came out way too over-exposed despite tweaking my camera settings forever. This one came out great. (pictures)
As I stood there, a black man in his 60s equipped with a baseball cap and a cane spit near where I was standing but he was walking by and since I’ve been pissed on and stepped in human feces while walking around the Tenderloin, it meant nothing to me. He stopped, faced me, hocked a loogie and spit directly on my shoes just as I snapped the photo that you see above. I turned to him and politely asked, “is everything okay?” The dialogue is as follow.
Him: “why don’t you take fucking pictures in your own neighborhood?”
Me: “I am. I live a block away in that direction”
Him: “you’re a fucking liar. Your fancy camera, you don’t below here. get the hell out”
Me: “Sir, I apologize and I mean no disrespect. This block is beautiful, historical and I like it. I was walking to Taco Bell and I wanted to grab a photo.”
[He Grunts and starts to walk away]
Me: “Sir, what’s your story? Mine is that I moved here over a year ago and don’t make enough money to move out of the Tenderloin. I’ve grown to love it now and I want to stay here for a while but the reality is, I can’t afford the rent anywhere else in the city. My life story isn’t as “great” as you think it is and this is my home too. Please tell me more about you.”
He said, “you wouldn’t understand” and walked away. I wanted to understand. I wanted to hear his story and I wanted to embrace my fellow man but he wouldn’t let me in. Whatever the reasoning in his own mind, I think that by explaining his story and letting me in, he would cease to hate me and he’d rather live with hate in his heart than learn to understand me and bring us both to a higher level. I could have learned more about his life and it may have brought more understanding to the struggle that people are dealing with in The Tenderloin that never has a newspaper or journalist been able to convey in words. Instead, we both walk away just as ignorant yet now I have phlegm on my shoes.
Our meeting was accidental and it wasn’t planned. We feared each other and our lack of knowledge and understanding brought us to hate and hate is simply too common in our modern world. I admit, as a white guy with a fancy camera, I am afraid of some parts of the Tenderloin. I’m not afraid of being attacked, robbed or harassed which is why most people simply avoid the area. I’m afraid of being misunderstood. I’m afraid that I’m looked at as, “some white guy that’s walking through our neighborhood to get to his fancy SOMA loft apartment.” or “look at that little rich kid. he must be lost.”
I don’t live in the Tenderloin for cheap rent anymore. Trust me, my $1600 a month studio apartment isn’t cheap. The reason I live in the Tenderloin is because I want to constantly be reminded of the human struggle which we all are going through. Living somewhere that’s “quiet and safe” is completely the same except they have fancier drugs and more elaborate crimes. By living where I do, I pass a homeless shelter, free food lines and many more “outreach services”. The constant reminder that I, at any time, can lose my job and be on the streets or an unfortunate sickness or illness could land me in the same food lines and the constant reminder that I have absolutely nothing to feel “down” about because I have a roof over my head keeps me living life to the fullest.
Without a constant reminder that we are so damn lucky to have what we have, we will cease to live and seize the moment at every moment of our day. This is why I live in The Tenderloin. It’s not to gentrify the neighborhood or laugh at the homeless or experience cheap rent. It’s to feel alive when I walk to work every day and know that everything can change so fast and that I’m so lucky to be alive.
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Immediately after my photowalk, I went to a Starbucks to get some work done and enjoy a cup of coffee. Before I even opened Microsoft Excel, a woman in her 30s struck up a conversation with me asking, “are you seriously working the day after Christmas?” Soon, another man joined in and the three of us talked about life for 2 hours. Eventually, my laptop was closed and we were all reclining in chairs telling our stories. The woman, moved here from Indiana in 2003 and has been unemployed for over a year now. The man is also unemployed and despite being a banker, 4-star chef and therapist to at risk adults suffering from diseases of the mind, he’s now trying his luck as a carpenter and going to a vocational school because he doesn’t ever want to get too comfortable at anything. The three of us shared our lives like old friends and it was awesome.
As a human, I sat down at Starbucks and immediately labeled the two of them in under a second and my label and prejudice toward them was completely incorrect after only hearing them speak a few words. My prejudice was no worse or better than that of the man who criticized me for taking photos in “his neighborhood”. Hate exists within us and without it, what makes us humans will no longer exist. However, seeking knowledge, education and finding out more about your fellow man is the first step to turning that hatred into love and with love, we can prosper and make the world a better place.
I wish you a happy new year. Thank you to the man who spit on me and thank you to the two strangers at Starbucks who taught me more about New York and Indiana than I ever could have imagined and let me share my stories which, as boring as they might be, seemed to entertain them for a brief moment in time. Thanks for reading.