I<3TL

Come to think of it, no one loves the TL. No one loves the streets, its people, the smell… The only thing people really love about the TL is its food. I had no expectations of the Tenderloin this semester when choosing it. I knew it had a lot of good, underreported stories. I saw newsworthiness, and potential, not much else. Now I have to say the Tenderloin is something dear to me. I love its old spirits. I love its food. I love its art. Its attitude. Everything about it.

I ran into a lot of surprises this semester, and situations that made me uncomfortable. All the way up until my last day (today) of reporting. I had earlier conducted (or rather listened) to a 1.5 hour interview in a man’s smokey SRO, sitting through his life story and show biz resume (including lots of Broadway and drag shows). On the flip side, I had a 20 minute interview with a powerful lawyer who gave me short, literal answers. I feel like after this semester, I’ve experienced it all, and have grown so much as a journalist. I’ve also grown in my understanding of people.

In the Tenderloin, I met people I would never have spoken to if I didn’t have to. I’m glad I did.

I know in my blog posts, I always talk up the Tenderloin, and how great it is. But after being there for a whole semester, I’ve become critical of so much also. I hate the lack of zeal and desire to live in its people. I hate the feelings of unworthiness and hopelessness in all of them. I hate the deaths and despair. I hate the inability of many non-profits to help these issues, but instead make Tenderloin residents helpless and dependent on free services. I hate the city’s policies of containment of poverty, drug issues, and mental illness. I hate the slum lords that profit off of the blight. And I hate the proclivity of outsiders to judge the Tenderloin and its issues.

As you can see, it’s not just a black and white issue, the Tenderloin. Its complex and multifaceted. Its messy and everyone has their own solution.

For me, my solution is writing. I write, tell truth, and let the people figure it out. Many times this semester I thought about my future role in the Tenderloin. Do I want to start volunteering? (I’ve pondered this so many times.) Or do I continue to objectively observe?

The Tenderloin has enough volunteers. It needs more fair coverage.

That’s all. Thanks for reading about the TL this semester.

Lindsay

Crime Surrounding Tenderloin’s Mosques

The Islamic Society of SF’s Dar Al-Salam Mosque has anywhere from 600-700 patrons coming in and out for prayer from 5 a.m. to 12 p.m.. Al Sabeel Mosque, just around the corner, has 50-200 patrons. Jones Street usually has multiple drug crowds (people waiting for drugs, buying, and selling) loitering. A combination of loitering people, and a constant flow of mosque patrons makes for crime. There has been car break-ins, theft, assault, and robbery.

This map show crimes around the Jones and Golden Gate block nearby both mosques in 2012.

https://maps.google.com/maps/ms?msa=0&msid=210200227265441414150.0004be5ce2e32e3bed1a1&hl=en&ie=UTF8&t=m&ll=37.781815,-122.411873&spn=0.001484,0.00228&z=18&output=embed
View Crime near Tenderloin mosques in a larger map

Forgiving Tenderloin

As I continue my research on the Tenderloin’s history, I realize that its role as a safe haven in San Francisco hasn’t changed for the past 100 years. It’s home to those marginalized by society: immigrants, homeless, addicts, mentally ill, people with AIDS/HIV, the gay/transgendered community, and newly released prisoners. The Tenderloin has to be the most accepting, forgiving place in this city.

I’m writing on the Ambassador Hotel for my final story, and I believe it’s the perfect reflection of the forgiving Tenderloin. AIDS broke out among Ambassador residents during the 80s. During this time, the city hadn’t paid much attention to the new disease, and didn’t see it as a problem. A whole floor in the Ambassador was used as a hospice for AIDS patients. Social workers came in everyday to check their health, and clean their rooms. Non-profits brought food, clean laundry, and a listening ear. In a time of frequent deaths and grievance, there was acceptance and hope.

As long as people need somewhere to belong, the Tenderloin will take them in.

Tenderloin survives more than 100 years

In “San Francisco Tenderloin: Heroes, Angels, Demons, and Other True Stories” Lawrence Wonderling, a psychiatrist whom took care of patients in the TL wrote of an everlasting Tenderloin.

“The Tenderloin is one of those 20th Century phenomena that has resisted obscurity for over 100 years. [...] It has been structurally destroyed, publicly intimidated, blasphemed and socially quarantined, all of which may have served to alter, but never eliminate, the Tenderloin.”
– Lawrence Wonderling, The San Francisco Tenderloin - Heroes, Demons, Angels and Other True Stories

I’m currently researching the history of the Tenderloin. There’s no better way to figure out the reason for the present than looking into the past. Like Wonderling writes, the Tenderloin has survived an earthquake, redevelopment, political pressures, and social indignation.

There’s no better quote that sums up what the Tenderloin was, is, and always will be.

Snapping the Tenderloin

I’m new at street photography, and I’m already addicted. The Tenderloin I’ve found is one of the best places to take pictures. The people are so full of character, and the colors are bold and bright.

Cracking Randy Shaw

I think I’ve cracked the complexity that is Randy Shaw.

As you all know, my first interview with Randy didn’t go too well. I couldn’t handle his short answers, or wrap my head around his long resume of activism successes and resident criticisms. I also felt like an imposition on the many projects he’s busy with, especially because he was just back from two weeks vacation. And if you met Randy, you would see that he’s not a very warm person; he’s all business. Exactly why he made a point to recruit me for Beyond Chron while I was trying to interview him. Randy felt important, powerful, and capable in his office.

And so, I was both frightened (he didn’t show much remorse for the suicide of his opponent) of Randy, and stressed over how I would write about a man that seemed a mystery to me. Like a lawyer or politician, he almost seemed inhuman. He was not a talking heart, but a talking mind, a talking text book–so opposite of most people in the Tenderloin who are empathetic souls. Which brings me to my next point…

Maybe that’s why many Tenderloin residents distrust Randy. Even though he works for a non-profit, has devoted 30 years to tenant rights, and writes endlessly about the TL’s progress when so many news outlets only cite crime, the people of the Tenderloin see a talking mind, when they wear their hearts on their sleeves. They look at his activism and find it disgusting–a bragging list for Shaw. They count the Tenderloin Housing Clinic’s many buildings, and name Shaw a “property pimp.” They read Beyond Chron and tag it as a blog for all of his opinions. They laugh at his Uptown Tenderloin Museum, finding little optimism that tourists will find the TL charming, calling it a ploy for gentrification.

And I bought it. I talked to a few people, and couldn’t help but feel a bit of the same angst. I love the Tenderloin. I defend it. Imagine what comes to mind when you hear one man has been profiting off it’s low income residents and welfare funds, and claims himself “progressive.” I am a journalist, and I’ve become so attached to these talking hearts, being a sucker for story telling and human nature. But I’ve been blindsided by it. I wasn’t looking at the facts, and the facts all point to Randy Shaw making visible improvements to the Tenderloin neighborhood despite defamatory comments online and on the streets (as I’m realizing, most aren’t credible).

So who is Randy Shaw?

He’s a man that’s pragmatic, sometimes comes off as cocky, and assertive. He gets up, and sits down at his computer, scanning the documents scattered around him as he mumbles something about me writing for Beyond Chron before dismissing me to continue his work he’s already started (while I’m still in his presence). He takes on media coverage, traffic and pedestrian safety, tenant issues, historical preservation, and neighborhood lighting. What so many of the people he serves don’t know is; why?

Although he’s not very good at expressing it, it’s because he deeply cares about the Tenderloin; in love with it’s beautiful, old buildings (so much that he’s making a museum for it and has b&w photos of them all over his office) and committed to it’s close-knit community–even in the adversity of criticism. His strong belief that certain measures will help or harm the Tenderloin make him seem opinionated and abrasive, but he is sincere when he believes that Twitter’s Mid-Market arrival or the loss of certain businesses will benefit the Tenderloin.

Randy Shaw is an activist, and a good one at that.

Thank you everyone for your feedback last class. For pushing me to talk to more officials, find sources who will give names, and use more objective language. I am leaving the character of Randy that lends itself, and the facts about his work in the story, and throwing the rest out. You’ll find a new story Monday.

Complex Randy Shaw

Sorry Randy if you’re reading this. Forgot to mention this blog is also a place for students to talk about our stories and get advice.

I’m writing my profile on Randy Shaw. If you don’t know him, he’s a big deal in my ‘hood, the Tenderloin.

Remember when Daley talked about Newsom’s “care not cash” bill? The one that takes welfare money and puts it straight to rent for homeless? That was first thought up by Shaw and his non-profit Tenderloin Housing Clinic. He got permission from the city to do it on a small scale for his tenants, then the idea was drafted and passed on a city-wide scale.

Shaw is one of the biggest (if not the biggest) landlord in the TL. He has about 2,000 tenants. He is in the works of creating a Tenderloin historical museum, and critics SF news and politics in a blog he created called Beyond Chron.

Let’s just say Randy isn’t an easy man to write about, for many reasons… let’s do a list, shall we?

1. He’s accomplished a lot. So much to include in the this profile. He’s worked on many Props and tenant rights in SF that have been passed, written three books, and founded a blog where he gives much opinion to politics in San Francisco. Did I mention he’s starting a museum? During his interview I was a little overwhelmed with where to even start.

2. Because he has his hand in a million projects around the Tenderloin and still writes for Beyond Chron, he’s busy. I only got a twenty minute interview with him. To make things worse, between answering questions he repeatedly told me I should contribute stories to Beyond Chron, which is actually not a bad idea by the way, but not what I want to talk about when we only have 20 minutes. I said I would definitely be emailing him or calling him with follow-up questions, but I’m kind of afraid he might not get back to me the fastest.

3. He’s a a very logical person, and not very empathetic. And no I’m not making a judgment on his personality or who he is, I’m just saying as a journalist writing his profile, it makes it very hard to interview him. When asking him questions about why he devotes so much time to TL tenants, he just says “because they had no rights.” Not very quote-worthy, right? All I could think when he answered my questions is that he sounds like a lawyer. And it felt like no matter how I worded my questions, I kept getting answers like this.

4. He’s controversial. He’s been called “emperor” of the TL, “dictator” of the TL, he’s disabled comments on his blog, and even has a tenant (yes, one of his own tenants) who curates website attacking Shaw. So do I ask him about the very things people criticize him for? I don’t want to just bring the heat, and to make him get defensive and give me lawyer-like/politically correct answers. I want him to be able to trust me, and say what he honestly thinks. It’s hard. I’m not trying to make this a fluff piece about his accomplishments and endeavors. At the same time, I don’t want this to be a profile where he defends each one of his biggest criticisms. I want to be fair.

Any advice? (please?) I feel a little over my head with this profile. With organization, conducting interviews, what angle to use, what other sources I should go to, etc…

Where’s the Tenderloin?

Right here.

So you got your dot com destination along Market, your Civic Center feds under McAllister, ritzy Nob Hill to the North, Downtown on the right, and Cathedral Hill on the left.

In the middle lies the gritty Tenderloin.

Tenderloin National Forest

My very first day on the beat in the Tenderloin, I walked around for three hours, talked to people on the street, and paused at corners to watch the life of the neighborhood around me.

Yes, like people say, there are lots of homeless. And yes, I did witness a drug deal my very first day on the beat (right in front of a children’s park too). And the streets are dirty; very dirty with trash and urine.

But throughout my exploration, I found so much beauty. Like brightness in the dark. I met people that radiated positive energy. I saw walls and walls of colorful street art. And I stumbled upon the Tenderloin National Forest.

A couple of artists, always dismayed by the view of the dumpy Cohen alley from their window, decided do something. They turned that alley into the Tenderloin National Forest.

I felt like Alice in Wonderland as I curiously sauntered in. The place was quiet. It was surrounded by colorful murals. There were tall trees. The floor was a tiled mosaic. There were charming garden beds and metal troughs of swimming goldfish.

Walking to the very end of the alley, I circled back to find someone who knew what it this place was. That’s when I saw Joaquin just sitting there.

Joaquin was doing a story on the Tenderloin National Forest for NPR. He was glad to tell me about its history.

As I listened, I sat next to him, and took in the Tenderloin National Forest; gazing at all its features.

“People say it’s a breath of fresh air.”

Compliments from the Tenderloin

By Lindsay Oda

“You look beautiful Miss.”

“I like that hair!”

“Wow, you’re beautiful! What’s your name?”

I’ve never thought myself to be anything stunning. I’m just normal, but people in the Tenderloin make me feel like a treasure.

Today I walked into the Tenderloin looking a good mess. I wore my scrappy combat boots, dark skinnies, an old bowling shirt with the name “Joel” embroidered on the front, and a tan windbreaker. My hair was frizzy (still experimenting with my perm) and its dye fading, leaving it a reddish brown. I wore no makeup.

Yet, they still had compliments for me.

Once I went to meet and shake hands with a lady at a Tenderloin theater group. She embraced me.

“Oh, I don’t shake hands. I do hugs,” said a woman with long, fake pink fingernails, dyed blonde hair, and a puffy quilted jacket.

I’ve come to the conclusion that the people of the Tenderloin are just friendly, loving strangers. The kind with huggable, puffy jackets.

When writing stories, most of the time those I interview don’t care about me. They don’t ask too many questions besides who I write for. But people in the Tenderloin, they want to know me. Where I’m from. How old I am. What I study. What my opinions are. They’ve offered me food and a cup of tea. They invite me in their offices, their cars, and homes.

Some want to know why the Tenderloin? Why do I care to write about their community? What do I feel others need to know?

That’s when they really talk to me. Once they understand I see the same hope in the Tenderloin that so many can’t.

That mutual connection I have with members of the community, that respect…it has to be the biggest compliment of all.