I am sitting at an airport lounge waiting for my flight back to Europe, contemplating the last couple of days. After my psychotherapy training and completion ceremony in Mendocino, I decided to stay in San Francisco for a few days and revisit the city I loved and knew quite well, as I spent a month here in 2005.
I arrived late afternoon at my rented apartment on Mission Dolores, relatively near the house in Haight-Ashbury where I stayed so many years ago. The same night I only ventured close by the apartment to a used bookstore, something I always do, and a quick dinner in a nearby Japanese vegan restaurant. The next day I woke up early (it was still dark out), did my meditation and, filled with anticipation and excitement, went out for a nice long run as soon as I saw daylight. The neighbourhood was just waking up, kids were on their way to school, and people were rushing to work with their take-out coffee/ tea. On my run in and around Mission Dolores park, I also noticed quite a few homeless people, some sleeping and some walking around, but I thought it was because of the park, so I didn't think much of it. After the run, I had a coffee and breakfast in a local café and finally left 'the hood' to explore the city. I didn't have big plans apart from a lunch date much later, so I decided to walk the charming residential streets I remember and explore the city's nooks and crannies.
But as soon as I left the park behind me and the familiar streets I ran through just a moment ago, I noticed homeless people everywhere. Literally everywhere – nicer streets, shopping streets, dark alleys (just not in super rich neighbours, as I later found out). People of all ages and all colours (even though, truthfully, darker complexions were in the majority). Some streets had actual tents on the pavement. The more I walked towards downtown, the worst it got. Every five minutes, there was someone talking to themselves and often shouting at some invisible presence only they saw. The smell of piss and weed was everywhere. Weed it's now legal now in California, and even though I am for legalisation, this just made everything even stranger to me. As I walked, I felt my body tense up even though my rational mind told me that most of these people were not a danger to me and were just poor lost souls, but I guess the pure unfamiliarity of the situation made my nervous system think otherwise. What I saw actually broke my heart and puzzled my mind as I couldn't wrap it around the fact this suffering, hopelessness and inequality exists in such a prosperous, rich city. Shameful. Disgraceful. Horrid. I don't remember SF this way. Did I just not notice before?
Yes, I am sure many of these poor souls are drug addicts, but so many are not. I saw a white man in his 30's who looked just like any other man walking past me on his way from work break. It seemed at; first he was just sitting on the pavement resting, which is why I noticed him as it struck me as odd until I came closer and saw that his clothes were worn out, and there was a sleeping bag and some belongings neatly folded next to him. What broke my heart the most were the young people. So many of them. Some walk around talking to themselves, some go through rubbish bins, or like one boy of just over 20 whose image will stay with me for a while, just sitting on the pavement hopelessly staring down at it as if ashamed to be where he is. This particular one was holding his dog in a tight embrace as though he was holding on tightly to the only precious thing he had. I spoke to one of them who had a dog. 'Her name is Freya,' he said. 'She's wonderful. She keeps us sane'. He had beautiful blue eyes with no hope in them. What do you say to that?
The walk I looked forward to so much was anything but joyful, recollecting a time passed and ended up with an anxiety attack I hadn't experienced in years. The city I looked forward to seeing so much made me uncomfortable and sad. The people of the city walked on as is used to the presence of those poor lives. Most of the time, they would stare at their phones, anesthetised and detached, tourists running around with their shopping bags turning their heads, and crossing the street.
Social injustice, which I haven't seen this close-up in a long time, is present everywhere in the world, but the extremes are painted in such vivid colours here in the US that it's impossible not to notice. Suffering is everywhere. Injustice and inequality are everywhere. Millions of homeless are roaming the streets, and then there are million-dollar homes on Presidio Heights and Noe Valley, where even tourists are banned. The ultra-rich and privileged live in their bubble up on the hills, not understanding or wanting to understand that those unprivileged living on the streets never stood a chance. One of them (some tech CEO) recently wrote to the major with this complaint:
'The wealthy working people have earned their right to live in the city. They went out, got an education, worked hard, and earned it. I shouldn't have to worry about being accosted. I shouldn't have to see the pain, struggle and despair of homeless people to and from my way to work every day.'
Wow. This is what kind of human liberal capitalism breeds. The unhuman human. Human doesn't want to see the pain and suffering. The human who believes those people are there because they didn't go out and earn it. The forgetful human who had a fair start and had already paid his student loans now doesn't remember how impossible it is for most to study in this country. There is no justice here.
The government is throwing money into this 'problem' pretending it's doing something but not admitting that it is just a bandage which doesn't even hold. The problem is much deeper, and it goes into the deepest foundations, false promises and lies we are constantly fed. Everywhere, not just here.
We all need to wake up for the change to happen and for this unjust world to start to heal. We need to start thinking, caring and doing whatever we can to end this suffering and injustice. We need a revolution - one which starts in our hearts and minds.
““Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.” ”
