“I’ve just returned from
lunch,” he says to me while making available two chairs. “I always find that I
get hungrier after I eat a snack. Isn’t that funny?” Father Donal Godfrey S.J.
of the University of San Francisco continues to amuse both ourselves with
ramblings about his dietary habits until we are both seated comfortably beside
his office desk.
Following the loss of a
loved one, it is not uncommon to seek comfort in those pious enough to mend our
confusions of Heaven, to provide us with closure, and to help us carry on with
life on Earth. The intent of my conversation with the Jesuit priest was to
better understand the role of his spiritual guidance in the healing process
that proceeds death. Much to my surprise, Father Donal revealed not only his
approach to healthy grieving, but also the duty of a presiding priest and the
emotional struggle behind his clerical responsibilities.
“Death doesn’t have the
last word,” he begins. Contrary to my presumptuous belief, services are more
than a commemoration of the deceased, but rather a way to bring closure to
those still living. “I had a friend die of AIDS many years back. And he didn’t
want a funeral and I was terribly angry with him!” he says to me with alarm in his
voice. “I was angry because, well, that’s what we all needed after we lost
him.” He continues to assert his firm belief in community involvement following
loss. “It’s tragic when a person dies, and people don’t want to feel alone.”
I ask him to describe his role
in bringing those in mourning closer to peace. “My job as a priest is to
provide a space for hope,” he says. “I help them to accept where they are, and
often times they’re in shock or denial. They should never be told how to feel
or what they should do.” Additionally, it is also important for a presiding
priest to get to know the deceased through his families and friends in order to
conduct a favorable service. “It’s much easier if there is a deep faith within
the family,” he admits. “If they’re not religious, it is a more delicate
process. It’s harder to understand what they would want for their service.”
But perhaps the more difficult
task of a presiding priest is the necessity to suppress personal feelings.
“I’m quite good at it,” he
says, nodding his head reassuringly. He pauses for a silent reflection before
redirecting his gaze in my direction. “But I feel it afterwards [the funeral].
I’m depressed, I’m down. My body is aching for days, sometimes weeks.” The
Jesuit priest reveals how presenting a calm façade during times of loss has
become a second nature in his line of work. “I want to help these families
grieve, but if I’m a mess then I won’t be of help,” he says while swiftly
flipping through a book with a cover that reads, Order of Christian Funerals.
Father Donal recounts his
greatest strife with grief when he presided over his father’s funeral just four
years ago. “I was his son, but I was his priest first,” he explains. “I had to
bracket my grief until later.” I ask him how he was able to suppress such
anguish. “I prayed about it. I told myself this was something I’d do for my
father, to honor him, and to respect him,” he responds with eyes staring
blankly at the floor beneath our feet. “That was a very hard one.”
The room falls silent before
he releases a light hearted chuckle. “I’m hungry again, can you believe that?” I
exit his office with a newfound understanding of the Jesuit priest, and the clerical
collar that seems to hold him all together.
“I never use Facebook when
I’m home,” says Jasmine Morano while cramming a fork load of spaghetti into her
mouth.
Morano has just been offered
a contract position with Facebook as a University Recruiter. After touring the
grounds of the media giant’s headquarters, we scale the bottomless buffet for a
variety of gratuitous tasty cuisines.
“What I do is I go to
college campuses and I basically talk to students who are interested in working
with Facebook. I tell them what steps they need to take to become employed and
help them figure out which department is their best match.” Of the few campuses
she has visited, Morano is already beginning to take note of an unbeknownst
trend among the young students. “Some of them don’t even use Facebook,” she
says.
In recent months, teenage
users have strayed from their Facebook homepages and are now focusing their
attention on alternative media outlets. Twitter, Instagram, and Tumblr are some
of the many new social media services that are taking the younger generations
by storm. The speculated reason for this gradual neglect of Facebook has been
boiled down to privacy concerns, and not from the prying eyes of online
predators, but from their very own mothers.
That’s right. Facebook users
are yearning to cut that cyber umbilical cord for good. While older Facebook
members have utilized their accounts as a means of socializing and stabilizing
connections, it would appear that today’s youth feel otherwise. Apart from the
occasional messaging, we are all guilty of using Facebook to advertise
ourselves and to peer into the lives of others. And while your friends might know
and applaud you as the life of the party, some things are best left unsaid to
mom and dad.
Because social media seems
to no longer be about socializing, but rather showcasing, teenagers have turned
to more specified social media outlets that enable them to advertise their best
selves. Instagram has given rise to the shameful “selfie” where we can enjoy
the same awkward angle of a user’s face shadowed by a camera filter of choice
and followed by a series of cliché hashtags. Twitter, on the other hand, is
commonly used to spat out opinions, backlash, or a series of random nothings to
be commented on by the public. And Tumblr, a blogger’s safe place to let
emotions run wild without really being seen.
Rest assured, there’s a place for us all in the world of social media.
Many, myself included, feel
Facebook has maybe grown too powerful and are intimidated by the emergent
corporation. Facebook has acquired over 800 patents and is seeking ownership
over a number of successful social media websites. As of this year Facebook
will own four of the world’s most popular smartphone apps: Facebook itself,
Instagram, WhatsApp and Facebook Messenger. Now there is talk of Facebook purchasing
drones?
“Our PR department is going
crazy with all the weird conspiracies people are coming up with,” says Morano.
Despite the dwindling
interest, it remains clear to me as I fill my emptied purse with saran-wrapped
plates of Facebook complimentary foods, that Zuckerberg’s empire is growing and
here to stay.
Since the notoriously belligerent days of the Barbary
Coast saloons, San Francisco continues to boast a series of intoxicatingly fun
drink venues. From dive bars in the Mission, to night clubs in the Marina, it
seems San Francisco has some drunk love for just about anyone. But before embarking
on a night of slurred conversations and pitiable arrhythmic grinding, one must
break down the many idiosyncratic stereotypes that define the numerous
neighborhoods (and their bars) of this fine city.
Thirsty Thursday is the kick start to a nauseatingly sloppy
weekend. Careful pickings led me to explore the Geary bar strip located in the
Inner Richmond where an abundance of underage university students gather in
overdressed attire to display their best assets while sipping on reasonably
priced cocktails. Ireland’s 32 is the first stop for the mob of binge drinking
adolescents. Ladies cram the upstairs bathroom while their male counterparts
can barely be heard ordering pints over the Top 40 insufferable songs playing
loudly down below.
“Oh my god, this is my song!” exclaims a girl who
seems just as bubbly as her Hefeweizen.
She pushes her way to the DJ set before climbing onto a table where she
struggles to dance in platform heels.
Down the street, Forever21 mini dresses adorn the
dance floor at Abbey Tavern, a sports bar. Undercover cops blend into the dimly
lit establishment that manages to cram dozens of sweaty bodies. Meanwhile,
sloppy bros slosh around pitchers of beer that threaten to drench your clothes and
laminate the floor’s already sticky surface. Fortunately, many of the
youngsters seem to narrowly miss the modest gem that is Fizzy’s, located in the
midst of the college bar minefield. Here, you can enjoy a no-nonsense bar
staff, a miniscule arcade, and a game of pool.
If you’ve survived Thursday night’s disaster, I might
then suggest a low key Friday evening in the hipster haven that is the Mission
where my weekend bar crawl took me next.
The stink of bacon wrapped hot dogs and human urine
permeates throughout the block. Drooping bodies prop themselves up against a
graffiti infested pink wall while disintegrating cigarettes camouflage against
the grey sidewalk. Regardless of the minimal breathing space, Beauty Bar on 19th
and Mission seems to always attract a cult following. Regulars crowd the bar
where a bartender dressed in pirate’s attire will fetch you cheap shots and
PBR. Girls in Levi cut offs and Doc Martins take turns huffing bumps off a set
of keys while a dancer in vintage mod clothing takes center stage on the dance
floor.
Just two doors down you can enjoy the best late night
tater tots in town. Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem is happy to serve the
messiest of Buffalo wings, sliders, and seasoned tots alongside your whiskey
and coke. A few blocks over on 16th you can stumble into obscure
live music and a serious game of pinball at Elbo Room, an overpopulated venue
where Canadian tuxedos go to die. And while you’re still in the neighborhood,
be sure to stop by Delirium on Albion Street where, legend has it, the owner is
known to invite guests to party after hours in a hidden room.
Don’t be afraid to pile on the
onions and condiments, at least one trip to the nearest hot dog stand is
crucial to a successful Friday night bar crawl in the Mission. Besides, you
might need the fuel to carry you over to Saturday evening in the Marina.
If you didn’t get enough of Greek
life in college, look no further than Fillmore Street in the Marina for the
sorority infestation of your nightmares. This is your chance to shamelessly
consume your own weight in overpriced alcoholic beverages until you deem every
face in the club attractive. Matrix Lounge is your place to see and be seen,
and to weasel your way into some rich kid’s bottle service. Middle aged to old
men crowd the bar, ladies dressed head to toe in BCBG compete for the dance
floor, and wealthy foreigners monopolize the seating. Social hierarchy at its
finest.
Leave your dignity at the door
before you step into KT’s across the street, where thirty something year olds
relive their college years in the most obscene manner imaginable. Outdated
dance moves and impromptu public displays of affection transform the dance
floor into a cirque du sloppy. Be sure to stop by the women’s bathroom for some
age old drama, shaky lines of cocaine, and body critiques in front of a full
length mirror. If you’re aiming for a complete social misfire, you know where
to go.
Admittedly so, I have experienced my fair share of a
good time at each of these drink venues. Regardless of your neighborhood
preferences and prejudices, there is nothing like a little liquid courage to
bond the two ends of this city.
PARADE-Casey. USF Student joins
thousands in welcoming the Year of the Snake at San Francisco’s renowned
Chinese New Year Parade. 790 words.
Blazing red dragons accompanied by a series of
larger-than-life snakes and death-defying acrobats scaled the streets of
downtown San Francisco last Saturday. According to the San Francisco Chronicle, tens of thousands of spectators joined the
city in celebrating the Year of the Snake at one of the world’s largest Chinese
New Year parades.
At 5:00 PM, spurts of firecrackers sounded the start
of one of city’s most iconic events of the year. Audiences situated themselves
in fold-up chairs that hid behind the metal railings lining the parade route.
Shoppers could be seen peering down from storefront windows at the majestic
spectacle appearing on the street below them. Several children bundled up in
their warmest of jackets sat atop their father’s shoulders while others begged
their mothers to buy them glow sticks and cotton candy from 19 year old street
vendor, Eric Stone. “I’ve been working this spot since early December,” he said.
“This is my first year at the parade and I’ve seen a lot of neat things so far.
Especially the acrobats, those guys are incredible. I wish I could see more of
it, but I’ve got toys to sell. Definitely a profitable crowd,” he said as he
handed a gold beaded necklace to a smiling girl of maybe six or seven.
Kearny Street showcased an animated scene of jubilant
dragons hiding troops of dancing children beneath yellow and red scales while
Chinese pop music echoed between the towering buildings. Women fully adorned in
traditional silk kimonos lit up the parade with bursts of deep blues, lilac
purples, and searing reds as they twirled down the street. The parade also
proved an excellent opportunity for some of the city’s biggest names to
showcase their cars and family members. Supervisors Scott Weiner and David Campos
waved to crowds from shiny red and blue mini coopers followed by Jeff Adachi in
a vintage Cadillac and school board commissioner, Sandra Lee Fewer sitting atop
a silver convertible. Bart even showed some New Year spirit as a miniature
conductor car decorated in cherry blossoms and paper lanterns sauntered down
the parade route.
After the sun disappeared below Kearny Street the
moving displays began to shine brighter than the office windows stories above
them. Bronze cymbals chimed harmoniously with the strong beat of the drum
following close behind. The musical performers were dressed in simple black
attire, so as not to distract from the much anticipated eminence of the
glittering red and gold dragon nearing behind. A jumble of tiny dancers came to
a halt before me and the percussion from the drums ahead silenced. They pulled
out fans decorated as cherry blossoms and mimicked their dance instructor as
they attempted what seemed to be forgotten choreography to a cheerful Chinese
melody. The music cut short when “Gangnam Style” brought the dancers back to
life. “No way!” shouted a girl behind me as she rocked onto the tips of her
toes to see over my shoulder. The onlookers let out gusts of loud whistles and
heavy applause as the children folded their fans and began to impersonate the
dance made famous by South Korean pop singer PSY. The performers giggled as
they hoped from side to side in single file lines of precision. The song ended,
but the fan dancers left a lasting impression on Kearny Street as they marched
out of sight to the sound of our applause.
Heavy drums operated by stoic looking men balancing on
top of an ornate sparkling red and gold float signaled a herd of acrobats
disguised as animals marching on stilts. A small boy knelt at the base of my
feet as he reached his hands between the small spaces in the metal bars
separating him from the festivities. A performer who recognized his struggle
neared the metal barrier to offer him a smile and a friendly greeting to the
crowd. The boy, mesmerized by her skill, peered up at her cheetah-painted faced
and let his jaw drop. I decided to take advantage of this close range
opportunity to learn more about the art from the stilt walker herself. 15 year
old Rebecca Lee, alumni of the Chinese Performing Arts Program at West Portal
Elementary School walked the parade route for her second time Saturday. “I’ve
been learning to stilt walk since I was eight. We start when we’re in fourth
grade and then each year we keep practicing,” she managed to say before
rejoining her troop.
San Francisco’s Chinese New Year has yet to disappoint
the thousands of people from all over the world who come to celebrate on the
city’s streets. Saturday’s spectacle welcomed an exciting start to the much
anticipated Year of the Snake.
GENTRIFICATION- Casey. Gentrification in the Mission
District has caused hitches in commercial and residential rent prices and has
resulted in a vast number of evictions of Mission residents. The neighborhood’s
vibrant culture and basis of strong community is now being overhauled by
developers and realtors, resulting in the displacement of the Latinos, artists,
and small business owners who made the Mission into a destination.
There is a
place in San Francisco rich in community and art; an area deeply rooted in the warmth
of the Latino culture; a neighborhood lined with small businesses and adorned by
walls that host a visual feast of mural art. To some, the Mission District is a
destination filled with delicious Mexican cuisine or great deals on thrift shop
clothing, but to many others the Mission is a place called home.
However, the
current displacement of artists and the Latino community is ridding the
neighborhood of the artistry and history that made the Mission so appealing in
the first place. Since the dot.com boom, affluent tech workers have flocked to
this district of constant urban renewal, forcing low-income residents out of
their homes.
This dot.com
boom created a cultural and economic shift prominently seen throughout the
neighborhood and is reflected in the struggles of tenants fighting skyrocketing
rent prices and the hardships of small business owners watching their
livelihoods crumble. According to the City and County of San Francisco Rent
Board, rent in the Mission increased by 29% in just one year from 2011-2012.
The statistical analysis of rent prices in the area for 2013 has not yet been
released. In addition, the median home sale price has increased by 21.8% in the
past three months with the average listing price of homes for sale in the
Mission at $1,259,889 as of May 1st. According to Coldwell Banker Real Estate, the
neighborhood has amedian
household income of $59,360, a 21.8% increase from the medium household income
back in 2000.
The
neighborhood’s vibrant culture and basis of strong community is being edged out
by developers and realtors to supply wealthier residents with high-end dinner
and drink venues, chic boutiques, and newly renovated residential spaces. C.W.
Nevius, columnist for the San Francisco Chronicle, has covered Bay Area
politics for nearly 20 years. “There’s a new crowd of people coming in and these
people have discretionary income and they’re going to spend it,” he said. “There
are a great number of people who realize it’s terrible and it’s tearing apart
the mission. But you know what, these new people have the money and they’re
coming in and it’s happening.”
Small business
owners have been hit hard by this gentrification, struggling to keep their
doors open while wealthy investors buy out neighboring establishments. Erick
Arguello, head of the Neighbors and Merchants Association on Lower 24th
Street, has been a Mission resident for 50 years. “One of the things that’s happening is there
are these people with a lot of money in their pockets, usually investors, who
recognize that there are cheap businesses in the area, and they buy them out
and take over them,” he said. “So these mom and pop business are not able to
compete with these new businesses that are causing rent to go up.And commercial space has no rent control, so
these small businesses are very vulnerable right now.” 24th street
boasts 130 businesses with 79 run by Latino business owners. “Latino business
owners run the majority of small businesses in our corridor,” said Arguello. “I
can’t say that’s true for the rest of the neighborhoods in our district and
that’s the biggest problem with gentrification in the Mission. It’s wiping out
our mom and pop businesses and it’s important that we slow it down now before
its too late, which could be very soon.”
But these new
shops and restaurants are not going anywhere so long as they remain successful,
which they have been. “This is still a capitalistic society,” said
Nevius. “If people did not want those restaurants, then they wouldn’t pay
for those restaurants and they would go out of business. But they’re definitely
successful. On Valencia there’s something like sixteen restaurants in a
two-block area, those restaurants are booming.”
Rigoberto
Hernandez is a student reporter for Mission Local, a project of the University
of California at Berkeley Graduate School of Journalism. Hernandez, who has covered
the Mission for four years, described the typical gentrification process. “It
begins as an immigrant, low income community,” he said. “Then the artists
arrive, the people who want to experience culture. After the artists leave then
come the culture hawks. They work in cafes, they’re students, and they don’t
have a lot of money; they’re transient. During this process, the neighborhood
has already cleaned up; crime is reduced, there are more cool restaurants,
galleries, record shops, and bookstores. And so then the young professionals
who can afford it all move in.”
In order to
make room for this new class of young professionals, former residents are being
forced out of their homes in a number of ways. The Ellis Act permits landlords
the right to change the use of their building. When a landlord evicts the
tenants in the building, he or she can convert these rental units into
condominiums or single-family homes and sell the property for more than could
be earned as rent-controlled property. According to the Rent Board Annual
Report on Eviction Notices, there was an 81% increase of Ellis Act evictions as
of March 2013 and a 46% increase in owner-move in evictions. Owner move-in
evictions allow the landlord to evict the tenants on the promise that he will
live in the unit for three years.
Don Crean has
owned his home on Lexington Street for nearly 11 years. He talked about how the
residents on his block have changed in the time he’s been living there. “Mostly
everybody who lives on my block now are owners of their apartments or
buildings, whereas when I first moved in at least three or four of the
buildings around me had rental properties,” he said.
Other renters have
another issue threatening their living situations. Marissa Howser, a student at
the University of San Francisco, splits her rent with four additional
roommates. They thought they were getting a good deal until they found out a
year later that they were paying well above market rate. “We pay $5,000 for our
apartment. And our apartment is radically more expensive than any other
apartment in the building. Our neighbors, apparently, only pay $1,000. They
have the exact same layout. But our rent gets marked up,” she said. Victims of
rent control might not be facing notices of eviction, but the intent of those
in control is still the same: force out current residents and charge higher
rent on new tenants.
It can be
argued that the gang violence has decreased since the start of the
gentrification process. But make no mistake, crime rate and gang violence are
still prevalent in the neighborhood, and it won’t be leaving anytime soon.
“Honestly, I don’t think gentrification is going to change the gang violence,” said
Nevius. “I think it’s a long and complicated issue. I don’t know if it’s
dramatic or not but I would still say there needs to be quite a bit more work
done about it.” Luis Padilla of the Mission Cultural Center for Latino Arts
believes it’s going to take more than displacement of the Latino community to
rid the neighborhood of gang violence. “Its still here and I don’t think it’s
going anywhere,“ he said.
Padilla noted that the more obvious
change that has resulted from gentrification are in the demographics of the neighborhood.
“I don’t want to affiliate it [changes in the population] with race because
what’s really changed is the socioeconomic aspect,” he said. “I mean there are
more affluent residents moving in and it’s creating a huge gap in in the
population.“ Arguello has also taken
notice of this gap, predicting there is no future for the middle class in the
Mission. “What I think is going to happen down the line is there will
be only the wealthy class and the poor,” he said “No in-between.” He sited the
expenses of parking and restaurants to support his claim, as well as the poor
conditions of their schools. “Unfortunately, there are a lot of things working
against the middle class. I don’t think the Mission is really deigned to cater to
that demographic,” he said.
“What I’ve seen is that more people are
jogging,” said Hernandez. “Seriously though, that’s a very noticeable change. Before
this recent displacement, this used to be known as a prostitution area
[Harrison and 17th Street] and now you see families jogging.” Howser also noted similar changes
occurring on her block. “What I noticed the most is the stop in prostitution,
especially on my street. 19th and Capp was the place to go for prostitution for
a long time,” she said.
There is a high
price to pay for these societal changes, a price many are struggling to afford.
This displacement is causing drastic changes on the Mission’s art community. “I
think the murals are already being disrespected and being erased,” said
Arguello. “There are new people who are moving into neighborhood who feel that
art is not permanent, art that has been on our walls for decades. There are art
institutions that are being moved because of the spike in rent prices, so I
also feel like there isn’t much protection for the art in the Mission.” Artists
who can no longer afford their out-of-control rents on studio space are
relocating to Oakland where larger amounts of space are made more accessible. “A
lot of the art scene is moving out of the mission and moving to Oakland,” said Padilla.
The Mission just wasn’t helping them anymore. I think that’s one of our greater
losses to gentrification.” With the absence of the artists in the Mission, the
Latino culture is finding it hard to preserve and promote their culture. “There’s
a significant gap especially cultural and its really reflected in the art. You
have the modern art galleries and then traditional art galleries. And its
interesting because they’re both very sensitive of each others work, and
they’re making sure their not fusing their art because they want to preserve
their identities their cultures.”
It seems that those who do remain in
the Mission no longer belong. The Mission’s strong authentic cultural allure
has transformed into what Hernandez calls a “fake diverse” amongst the Latino
community and the new young professionals. “They live side by side and there’s
no meaningful interaction,” he said. “A good example is Mission and 16th. It’s
a hellhole, its deteriorating; people are just dying on the streets there.And
then across the street are people getting on their Google or Apple bus. And I
watch it happen, these people step onto their protected buses, oblivious to
what’s around them, and it’s like, do they even care?” Padilla also blames the
cultural gap for much of the destruction caused by gentrification. “If they
would just acknowledge one another, accept and respect their cultures, then I
think we would see some positive change,” he said.
“I’m going to give the neighborhood
maybe ten years before its become predominately upper class, before the Mission
is no longer the mission.” Said Padilla. “But then again, I could also give it ten
years for the Mission to revert back to its old ways. There’s time for change,
its just we don’t know which direction its going to go.” Whether or not social
awareness and concern for the evolving neighborhood and its locals are
prevalent amongst these new residents, it becomes a matter of what is being
done to halt the gentrification in its tracks. “You have to be organized, very
organized,” said Arguello. “You need a lot of people behind you. And it’s a lot
of work. We’ve been at it for fifteen years. Some people get tired of fighting
and they let it go. We’re watchdogs for the community.”
