Humble Beginnings
I'm writing from the bay window of my lower Haight street apartment, facing out into the vortex of life that is San Francisco. Living in this city is such a unique way to experience culture in your face, and it wouldn't be the same any other way. It helps me to understand people, real people, and the way they deal with real life issues.
Homelessness is an issue that is constantly in your face when you walk the streets. Being surrounded by the epidemic made me uncomfortable, at first, especially with the prevalence of begging, overt public urination, and other unsightly customs of the homeless that go against every grain of civilized behavior(subject to discussion). My mind was tortured with the realization that the citizens of this city condoned such behavior. It wasn't until recently that I've begun to accept this walk of life as I would expect others to accept my own.
Tonight, I heard and watched a man yelling erratically from his position lying on the sidewalk at the front of the tacqueria where I was eating. When I approached the cashier to pay, he said that the old man was yelling because he was upset about all the noise around him because he was trying to sleep. Granted, the old man happened to choose a mainstream of traffic for his resting place, yet the store manager knew the man and gave him the benefit of the doubt, because just like you and I, this man has the right to be treated with respect and equality. His understanding for the old man's situation gave me great insight. People here tend to be aware, tolerant, and most importantly... understanding. It is about giving somebody the benefit of the doubt before passing judgement.
Seeing this side of our society reminds me that I am lucky to have something to give. My humble beginnings in this part of town began with an empty room and an armoir left behind by the previous settler. It was a blank canvas waiting for an artist. I brought to it my few belongings (a backpack of clothes, a surfboard, and some books and music), and began to settle. Today, I look around this room, and see that I have made myself a resting place... sitting here at the bay window, reflecting on the world that has become a part of me... reflecting on myself as it becomes a part of the world.
I'm writing from the bay window of my lower Haight street apartment, facing out into the vortex of life that is San Francisco. Living in this city is such a unique way to experience culture in your face, and it wouldn't be the same any other way. It helps me to understand people, real people, and the way they deal with real life issues.
Homelessness is an issue that is constantly in your face when you walk the streets. Being surrounded by the epidemic made me uncomfortable, at first, especially with the prevalence of begging, overt public urination, and other unsightly customs of the homeless that go against every grain of civilized behavior(subject to discussion). My mind was tortured with the realization that the citizens of this city condoned such behavior. It wasn't until recently that I've begun to accept this walk of life as I would expect others to accept my own.
Tonight, I heard and watched a man yelling erratically from his position lying on the sidewalk at the front of the tacqueria where I was eating. When I approached the cashier to pay, he said that the old man was yelling because he was upset about all the noise around him because he was trying to sleep. Granted, the old man happened to choose a mainstream of traffic for his resting place, yet the store manager knew the man and gave him the benefit of the doubt, because just like you and I, this man has the right to be treated with respect and equality. His understanding for the old man's situation gave me great insight. People here tend to be aware, tolerant, and most importantly... understanding. It is about giving somebody the benefit of the doubt before passing judgement.
Seeing this side of our society reminds me that I am lucky to have something to give. My humble beginnings in this part of town began with an empty room and an armoir left behind by the previous settler. It was a blank canvas waiting for an artist. I brought to it my few belongings (a backpack of clothes, a surfboard, and some books and music), and began to settle. Today, I look around this room, and see that I have made myself a resting place... sitting here at the bay window, reflecting on the world that has become a part of me... reflecting on myself as it becomes a part of the world.
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