Oh the People I Meet...

Last Wednesday I had the privilege of attending a church in the city called Glide Memorial, which is located in the Tender Loin District (famous for being one of the poorest parts of town). Glide is often referred to as "a last stop for people seeking a higher order". One of their main philosophies, after loving God and accepting Christ, is loving and accepting all people of all types, backgrounds, social standing etc. They wish to achieve a community where the marginalized are accepted. After they pray they finish with "amen, praise God, right on, namaste, shalom". All this makes for a very interesting mix of people and a very unique church experience.
The first half of the service was pretty much what you'd expect from any charismatic church environment, but about half way thorough, things go interesting. The pastor was well into his sermon, when a man walked up and asked if he could have a seat next to me on the bench. I of course, told him he could, trying not to show any reaction to what he was wearing, which included the following: grey slacks, a blue dress shirt, a black and white floral print dress over top, a plastic lei of green leaves around his neck and some in his hair. But, the best additions were the bright pink wig over his long dread locks and a button pinned to his dreaded beard, reading "I heart trans". If his attire wasn't enough, he had the personality to match. As he sat down and situated his three large purses, he turned to me and said "I'm Edmund Juicy! What's your name?"
As we prepared for a song, he grabbed one of his handbags on the floor and begun digging through it. He pulled out a maraca and commanded me to hold it for him. He re-closed his bag, set it on the floor and took the maraca abruptly from me, then getting up to dance around the room with it, shouting "Hope" at the top of his lungs. When the sermon resumed, Mr. Edmund Juicy sat back down and began digging though a bag again. He turned to me saying, "I was looking for my peppermint gum and instead guess what I found instead?! My marijuana breath spritzer!" He then lifted it up and said "Thank you, Lord", sprayed it into his mouth, lifted again thanking Jesus and put it away. I didn't even know that existed...oh well.
The fun didn't stop there. As we began the final song, Edmund commanded everyone in our row to stand up, pulling out some pom pom's from the depths of his bag. He handed one to Becky, who was on the other side of me and then grabbed my left hand, forcing me to dance around the room with him and his pom poms. What an experience...
The unusual encounters weren't over for the day. Becky and I were walking down Market St., where we ran into Barrett (I run into her all over the city...it's really weird) and decided to try out this breakfast place called Dottie's. We'd heard good things about it and it always has a line out in front, indicating it's worth the wait. We got in line and the man in front of us began chatting. He was with his high school aged daughter and they had just come from serving in a soup kitchen downtown. She was really not into talking with us, where as he acted ecstatic to have people willing to talk with him. She eventually went inside to sit down, loosing interest in the conversation. At this, he goes "Alright, now we can have some fun."
He pulled out a folded up piece of paper and asked me when my birthday was. "April 25", I replied, very confused. He looked at the piece of paper, and told me that my "archetype" was a Queen of Diamonds, meaning I am the "Master Teacher". He then did the same for Becky and Barrett, who are apparently the "Ultimate Giver" and also "Master Teacher". He was thrilled to learn that Barrett and I were the same thing and began to tell us what our vocation in life should be. We must watch out for other because we both have the gift of assessing situations and we have a great capacity for dexterity and the ability to teach through our actions and words. We also apparently are able to finish each other's sentences, know what the other person is thinking and could talk every night and never run out of things to talk about. We thought we could attribute some of that to the fact that we have been living with each other for a year haha. Becky apparently cannot go into Criminal Justice (her major) because she can't stand to see people suffer and her ability to give will get in the way-generous to a fault is what he said.
At that point, his daughter and him were called to sit down for their meal, but not before he wrote down a website with natural precautions you can take to protect yourself against radiation poisoning because "the world needs people like [us] to stick around a little longer."
Wow, all we wanted were some pancakes and we ended up getting our fortunes read in line. Oh, San Francisco, you never fail to surprise me.
The pancakes were delicious and we spent the rest of the afternoon taking advantage of the free day at the Asian Art Museum. What a day.

Chuch Experiences

Becky, Corinna, Barrett and I made our way over to Portrero Hill to attend a Church called Sojourners. It is a community of people that redefine what "family" means. Most of them live in several houses together and meet for dinner and worship every Sunday evening in the living room of one of the houses. We found out about it because one of our speakers for the Urban program lives in this community and is the pastor. He is homosexual and has chosen to live a celibate life, making this community a good option for his life. It was incredible to be welcomed into this diverse setting. So many people of different age, gender, social standing-it really was beautiful to see them all under one roof in genuine acceptance and love of one another and their troubles they bring. One thing I took away from the service was the principle of affirmation. There was time set aside to affirm each other within the community. It is a regular thing that they do, meaning it didn't have to be this big one-time production. It was very simple and personal, like "I enjoyed spending time with you doing this activity last week." It was a really refreshing form of affirmation that is a good reminder to what it does or doesn't have to be. This last Sunday, Barrett and I attended a service at a church called St. Gregory Episcopal, which is very rooted in the arts. It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced in a church service. The round ceiling of the room was lined with about 100 different painted "saints", including figures like Lady Godiva, Martin Luther King, Queen Elizabeth, Gandhi, William Butler Yeats, all surrounding Jesus in the center. I appreciated that they recognized these figures in society in a way, but am not entirely sure exactly how I feel about representing them as saints. Anyway, at the end of the service, we gathered in a circle and danced around as we sang the final song-very different experience. One thing that was done in both of these churches that I'd never done before was passing communion. I've always had to come up to the front and there are two decided people standing there to give you communion. Both Sojourners and St. Gregory's pass the bread and cup around the room, requiring the act to be more participatory, as you give it to your neighbor as you have just received it. I really enjoyed this personal aspect that was added to the ceremony by doing it this way.

Banksy Day!

This Saturday morning, we awoke and came up with a plan of setting out into the city and seeing every Banksy mural. If you don't know about Banksy, here is a link to his website http://www.banksy.co.uk/index.html, so you can go check him out. He is an anonymous street artist who goes by the name of Banksy and is famous for his black and white street art, often with red graffiti lettering near by and a political meaning. His murals originally began springing up in the early 2000's in the UK, but can now be seen many places around the world. I absolutely love his work! I think he is amazing. Anyway, Meghan, Barrett, Corinna and I decided to go on an expedition: 6 Murals, 6 Miles, 6 Hours 6 Courses. We kept great photo documentation, and even kept a Captain's log. We also turned this walking expedition into a progressive picnic, hence the 6 courses. We packed a course for each mural, where we stopped to eat it...lots of food haha. The first one was on Haight St., but when we arrived, we discovered that it had been whitewashed. If you look closely, you can see that it was painted over. From looking it up later, we know this one was a rat (one of his staple images). You can see Barrett, Corinna and Meghan were sad...then it started to rain as we ate our first course of cheese and crackers, sitting down on the steps of a store and then sharing our snack with some homeless hippies near by. Despite the disappointment of the first mural being gone, we did not loose heart and proceeded to pick some dandelions as we passed Buena Vista Park, heading for The Mission. When we finally arrived, after the long walk to from Haight Ashbury to The Mission District, only to discover a blank wall again. This too was on the side of a building and had been whitewashed. We were so depressed we stopped for lunch at the park across the street.

The third mural we found also in The Mission. This one was still there, but had been quite defaced by graffiti. We began to loose hope...

...but then we found a dinosaur mural (not by Banksy) and our persistence was restored.We headed down Mission St., coming to where SOMA and The Mission border each other. There we saw our first pristine Banksy...pretty cool!There were also some koi on the ground near the mural. These are not by Banksy either, but I thought it was a good time to mention that these appear all over the city-there literally must be hundreds. It's really quite fun to be walking along and then stumble upon some more fish at your feet. Have I mentioned I love this place? ;)

As we made our way through SOMA, we passed by my workplace. So, there is The Arc :) The fifth Banksy was also a sucess! A rat on the corner of 13th and Howard.

We were really excited, as you can see... Isn't his style so neat?

All the way in Chinatown, was where the next one was. This one has been preserved by some plastic over top and is on a side St. off of Grant. Pretty cool, no?

We were exhausted by this time and sat down in front of it to enjoy our last course of food. During that time, we had some rather strange encounters. First, we asked some people to take our picture in front of it. The people were going on and on about how this was a Banksy and then when they take our picture, the picture is just of us. Now why would you zoom in on the four of us for a picture where we are clearly crouching down in front of something, especially if you know the significance of that something? Oh well, we got another picture with the mural haha. Some other people that walked up, asked us if this was a Banksy mural. We replied that it was and then one of them says to the other two, "Yeah, guys that is why they are eating in front of it."

"No, we were just hungry" Corinna said.

"Oh, you aren't doing some type of Banksy ritual?" she asked

What the heck is a "Banksy ritual"? Whatever.

A few minutes after that, these British people walked by and their child escaped from their clutches to chase a pigeon, which happened to be at us. Never in my life have I seen a look of pure rage like that on a human face. This little five year old kid looked like he was out for blood as he swung his foot at that pigeon and screamed. All the while, his parents were calling "No, Jimmy! Come back!" I felt sorry for them, but it was hilarious at the same time; especially when Corinna began screaming because the pigeon was coming nearer to where we were sitting on the sidewalk.

Aw, some love from Meghan. :)

What an incredibly fun, yet long day. When we came back home, we all crashed. It was so worth it though. I had also heard that there was a Banksy in North Beach, which we didn't make it to. We looked it up, and sure enough there is. We were all very disappointed we hadn't completed our journey, but at the same time, I don't think any of us could have made it to North Beach after our other six miles. So, one final one to be seen...

Death Metal

Last night I went to my first ever Death Metal concert (it very well might have been my last). How did this come about, you ask? Well, it all started with a phone call on Thursday afternoon from my supervisor, Meredith. She left me a voicemail telling me that R.D. (a guy that works at The Arc) had left a note for me on my desk. She read me the note when I returned her call-it was an invitation to R.D.'s concert. Before I go any further, let me give some background. My friend Meghan works at St. Anthony's foundation, which is a homeless service provider in the city. R.D. leads a group from The Arc in volunteering there every week, so he knows Meghan through that. We never crossed paths until about the third week of my internship when I was at USF's computer lab with a group from The Arc. I was there taking pictures and interviewing clients. R.D. was there with another group and asked if I was from The Arc. I told him that I was interning there with Meredith. He immediately made the connection and goes "Are you from some program that is from a college in Santa Barbara?" "Yeah, how did you know?" I replied. "Do you know Meghan? Red hair, works at St. Anthony's." I obviously did and then we began chatting about other things, like the city and how he plays in two bands. He told me that he would let me know when they played if I wanted to come. So, he actually did end up inviting me and Meghan to come out to West Oakland and hear his Death Metal band play. He was considerate and told us it was totally fine if that wasn't our cup of tea and that he would let us know when the Neo Classical band was playing. Random combination, I know. Of course we couldn't pass up an invitation like that and decided to make our way to West Oakland. We rode BART in and found the venue, Church of the Buzzard (not kidding; it was called that), by the loud sound coming from it. We walked into what was a very death rock setting: heads and skulls, funky lighting, ravens lining the walls and ceiling. After adjusting to our surroundings and the incredibly loud sound coming from the band, I spotted R.D. on the drums and immediately pointed him out to Meghan. Both of us were shocked. He is this very calm, quite, sweet guy, about 40, really long hair, which is always up in a pony tail. It was so out of character to see him with his hair down, eyeliner on and completely rocking out on the drums. After his band was done playing, I went up to say hello, Meghan and Amy (who came along too) followed. "Hi, R.D." I said. He did a double take, clearly shocked that we had come. He was immediately back to the R.D. we know: a very calm and sweet, shy soul. He was obviously really excited we had come out, but he didn't expect it at all. We chatted for a bit about music and such and he gave me a cassette tape of his band's music. We stuck around for a few more songs by another band and R.D. took off to go unload all the band equipment, still very obviously baffled that we had showed up. Getting back was almost more intense than the music we heard, and that's saying something haha. Something that I found very interesting was the plethora of people that attended this event. When you hear the genre death metal, most likely you think of a bunch of hard core, black leather clad rockers with eyeliner and metal studs. And, yes, there were some of those stereotypical death metal fans there, but beside that, there was such a variety--broad range of style, age, personality. I mean, take R.D. for example: you'd think he was airing on the side of hippie and he has this hard-core death metal side, but then also a soft, neo-classical side. Truly a display in not judging a book by it's cover. Also, it's good to remember that people have many different likes. Just because they like one thing, doesn't mean they can't like something that would seem pretty opposite. Anyway, it was really nice to be invited and really experience this "being integrated" into my workplace. I love the fact that there isn't a lot of ageism here. San Francisco seems like a place that is totally accepting of any age being friends and hanging out-you can meet a lot of pretty cool people when you open your eyes to the possibilities.

Back to the 70's and Mission High

From the moment I entered the doors at The Arc yesterday, I was swept up into the back room, camera in hand, to watch and photograph the 70's musical medley going on. The "Archestra", fronted by Rob, John (two staff people), Howard and a few other clients, played some hits like "We Will Rock You" by Queen, "Dancing Queen" by Abba and "Play that Funky Music" by Wild Cherry and a few others Meredith and I couldn't quite recognize. I ran around the room, snapping pictures until Howard decided I needed to go dance with them and pulled me through the audience to the front of the stage. Hilariously embarrassing! After I escaped, I headed by toward Meredith and waited from the dance portion of the show to being. I stayed for the rest of the show and then headed back to the office, where Meredith and I had a laugh. She goes "Wasn't that videographer really attractive." "I didn't see him" I replied. Just then, who walks through the door but the videographer? He was attractive. haha We managed to not look at each other and laugh, but when he left, I told her I agreed and she goes "Right! Don't tell Mike." (her husband). I told her my lips were sealed and we laughed saying it was too bad he was too old for me and too young for her. Today work consisted of some more fun out of the oridnary experiences. I was to meet Sharon (a client of The Arc) at Mission High School, where she mentors students with developmental disabilities. I can't describe how amazing Sharon is-she is one of the most positive and lovable people I've ever met. She is hilarious and so much fun to talk to. It was a great day getting to know Sharon better and seeing what an inspiration she is to these kids, as an adult with disabilities. I did some interviewing and picture taking and accompanied them on their trip to the grocery store, which offers practice in everyday tasks and interacting. Then it was back to the Arc for another productive, yet hilarious meeting with Meredith, Mark, Laura and Jaiden. Great couple of days!

Home, Life, Individualism

Being at home has been really great, though it was weird to leave the city for the first time since being there. I am glad to be able to spend some time with family and friends. It's a good encouragement and reminder for what I still have to look forward to this summer even though leaving San Francisco will be difficult. I've been able to play with Katie quite a bit and spend some good time with my mom as well as my grandma, Gary, Betsy, Justin, August and Grace. The days down here in sunny So Cal have been gorgeous and a great break from all the rain and gloom of up North. Honestly, in some ways, going back to southern California was like culture shock. For example, every time I would see or hear a bus, something in me would go "Wait, do I need to be on that?" Another thing was the lack of walking-I got in a car to go anywhere and everywhere, except for the park one afternoon with Katie. Apart from the transportation, it's been a bit weird not having people out and about everywhere around you and the lack of high rises. I can't exactly explain it, but the cultures of these two places are just so different. San Francisco pretty much anything goes- people singing on the street as they pass you, people wearing odd clothing and ultimately just expressing themselves more outwardly to the general public. Southern California people, I have noticed, as a whole, are more reserved and not as free spirited (not exactly the right term, but I don't have a better one). Going home showed me the changes I believe have taken place in me. I've always been an advocate for individuality, but I think living in a city that prides itself on being individualistic has taught me that there are many parts to that. Individuality doesn't always come down to being counter-cultural; its more about being who you are, looking within and being secure with what you find. Individuality is supposed to be freeing, not limiting or exclusive.

Not Sure Where, Not Sure What...

At the corner of Grove and Van Ness a building overhang provides a few inches of shelter from the elements. The brief indentation of the wall allows a slight bit of comfort and privacy from the trampling feet of the sidewalk.

Each morning I pass this safety nook. I take notice of it's slight protection and it's usual two inhabitants that seem to never speak to the sidewalk tramplers, never bother the world turning, never have a place to be.

Yesterday morning two new guests had arrived. One in a blue jump suit, the other in black with a blue tie. Black Suit was instructing Blue Suit on what bars were to be placed over the safety nook.

This morning cold, metal, restrictive bars stood where once two humans had. "Where did they go?" I wonder to myself on my walk down the block. "Where will they go?" also runs through my mind. This is not a one-time incident.

Why must we fight against the poor when it is poverty itself that should be our enemy?

"It's not my problem." says Black Suit.

I ended up not going to work yesterday because Meredith had called me, telling me she wasn't feeling well and that I should just take the morning off too. We had a meeting to go to that evening to begin discussing the theme and save the date designs for The Arc's annual Arc Angel Donor Breakfast that is happening in October. I hope I will get to come up and visit that weekend. It sounds like a blast and it will be their 60th anniversary. Anyway, I arrived at The Arc for the meeting with Meredith, Mark, Laura, Jaiden and the two graphic designers putting together different designs. The third "save the date" and theme proposal rested on the iconic image of Rosie the Riveter and the "We Can Do It" slogan. I think it's going to turn out pretty great. I'm excited that I get to be part of some of the planning and see what goes into an event like this.

When the meeting was over, Mark advised me not to go to Cancun for Spring Break but to have fun. Meredith gave me a hug and told me to say hi to my family for her and relax over the break. Walking down 11th street towards the bus, I almost broke into tears for having to leave for a week. Half of me felt pathetic and the other half of me knew my feelings weren't completely unwarranted and that they were probably mostly coming from the knowledge of the future date when I will have to permanently leave this place. I hate knowing this is going to be over. Why does something I enjoy and feel so compelled to do with life have to be so far from home and school?

Now, its not that I'm not excited to go home; I am. It's just I've been so loved, welcomed and taught so much by this place and these people, I think it will be one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I know that I do this sort of thing-get really attached to things and think they are the absolute greatest while I'm in them, but this is the first really sustainable thing that I've been attached to. I also can't entirely explain it, but my attachment isn't like anything I've ever felt before.

But, I have to trust that, like there was a reason I was brought here, there is a reason to go back. And I know that I will never forget the people I've met on this amazing journey in discovering who I am more and more.