PROFILE
Oct. 28, 2009
It's Friday night and the gym at the Telegraph Hill Neighborhood Center is abuzz as Tel-Hi's 4th and 5th grade girls basketball team prepares to hit the court. Parents and children take their seats in the stands while the players busy themselves hurtling balls at the backboard, hoping for a last minute lay-up or free throw.
At the sound of the starting buzzer, coach Jeffrey Ng calls the team in for a huddle. His exact words are unclear, but when the girls finally take to the court in their numbered grey t-shirts, their game faces appear firmly in place.
Throughout the game, Ng can be seen waving his arms frantically and yelling from the sidelines, but his words are never angry or critical. "Good job" and "It's ok" fall from his lips time and again, in spite of the fact that Tel-Hi never scores a single point.
When Ng brings the girls in for a post-game pep talk, he's not just acting as their coach, but someone who's walked a mile in their high-tops.
"I was here when I was younger," said Ng who has volunteered at the center for four years. "I kind of grew up in this."
Founded in 1890 by Grace Cathedral Sunday School teachers Elizabeth Ashe and Alice Griffith, Tel-Hi sits among a flourishing garden on the city's famed Lombard Street. The building's forest green exterior conveys an air of severity whereas the interior seems to almost burst with primary colors and the sounds of children at work and play.
As one of the first settlement homes in the west, the center was originally located on Stockton Street and designed to serve low-income families in North Beach and Chinatown. According to its website, some of the earliest programs offered at Tel-Hi were a club for boys and classes in sewing and domestic science for girls.
More than 100 years later, Tel-Hi continues reaching out to the community through its preschool, K-5 after school academy, summer camp, teen leadership, and senior programs. In recent years, Tel-Hi has partnered with the family center at North Beach Place, a residential complex that was once an area housing project. Located within one block of Tel-Hi, NBP opened its doors in 2004 to serve low and moderate income families and individuals.
Each day, Tel-Hi serves approximately 600 members of the community ranging from age two-and-a-half to 102- and "everyone in between," according to Tel-Hi’s executive director, Tim Daniels. More than half of the center’s nearly 25 active volunteers are seniors.
While Tel-Hi's preschool and afterschool programs are not free, families have the option of applying for financial aid. Alternatively, many of the senior programs, including computer and line dancing lessons, are offered free of charge.
"I think it’s a great place for parents and kids to get to know each other," said former afterschool program participant Ng, a sentiment echoed by fellow volunteer and Tel-Hi supporter Jordan McDonell.
"It's a great center," said McDonell who first visited Tel-Hi in August with a friend and has been coming back ever since. "We do amazing things for the community."
In previous years, the center boasted a volunteer staff of nearly 80, but when funding for Tel-Hi's volunteer coordinator (a critical position that Daniels described as the glue that connects Tel-Hi with the community) was cut a decade ago, the center saw its once thriving volunteer force dwindle. With the position recently filled, Daniels expressed optimism at the prospect of gradually re-building it.
"My hope is that we're bringing in another 50 to 60 volunteers," he said. Daniels has been with the center nearly four years and dedicated the past 25 years of his life to working with various non-profit organizations.
Despite its nearly $2 million annual budget, which includes funding from the California Department of Education, San Francisco Housing Authority, and San Francisco Unified School District, as well as donations from local businesses and members of the community, Tel-Hi has not managed to escape the state's struggling economy.
"This year's definitely been the most difficult," said Daniels. "All our programs are at capacity and have wait lists."
Of these programs, one of the most popular is the daily lunch served to area seniors who must now sign up two weeks in advance if they wish to receive a meal.
In July, Tel-Hi suffered a devastating blow to the tune of approximately $127,000 when the state's School Age Community Child Care Services program, commonly referred to as Latchkey, was eliminated. Rather than penalize the parents and children that depend on their afterschool services, Tel-Hi's administrators worked to establish fair payment plans based on each family’s individual income.
"It's really amazing. It gives the parents security," said Tel-Hi's finance director, Ruchira Karamchandani, who began volunteering at the center in early 2006.
Originally from India, Karamchandani discovered Tel-Hi by searching online for San Francisco-area volunteer opportunities after re-locating from Los Angeles.
"It looked interesting and they were very responsive," she said. "The kids are really friendly and the staff is great."
The center has managed to forge ahead thanks to support from the neighborhood, as well as the Friends of Tel-Hi, a newly-formed group of volunteers who raise awareness and funds in support of the center and its various programs.
"We're a small, core group," said Friends president and Tel-Hi director of development, Donna Faure.
At a recent meeting, members discussed the success of their first event, Breakfast for Books which raised $5,000 for the center's library.
"I'm happy to celebrate a little bit," said Faure. "This was really great because it
wasn't all about the money. I'm hoping it’s going to help make the library up here really nice."
On any given day, the children, seniors and staff at Tel-Hi seem to be celebrating, undaunted by the challenges they’ve faced.
"I think the center is a big part of the community," said Karamchandani. "We are like home for a lot of families here."
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Class Blog 3
The Tel-Hi's and lows of a student journalist
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
I stumbled upon my midterm subject while looking for a meeting in North Beach. I read online that a group called the Friends of Tel-Hi would be holding a meeting at the Telegraph Hill Neighborhood Center on a Tuesday night in early October and decided to check it out. I was worried I’d be late and began preparing for the embarrassment that generally comes from sauntering into meetings 10 minutes late… To my surprise (and great relief), I was actually early- 24 hours early.
A member of the center's staff introduced me to Tel-Hi's director, Tim Daniels, who explained that the meeting was actually set to take place the following day. Then he checked his e-mail and found that the Friends decided to postpone another week and take a well-deserved break after the success of their first fundraiser, Breakfast for Books. After chatting briefly with Daniels about the center's stance on the controversy surrounding the possible renovation of the North Beach library (Tel-Hi's chosen to remain neutral so as not to alienate donors but keeps its doors open to community groups on both sides of the issue that wish to hold their meetings at the center), it occurred to me that Tel-Hi might make an interesting profile subject.
I googled the center when I got home and learned that it was founded by Grace Cathedral Sunday school teachers Elizabeth Ashe and Alice Griffith in 1890 and was one of the first settlement homes on the west coast. More than 100 years later, Tel-Hi continues reaching out to the community through its preschool, K-5 after school academy, summer camp, teen leadership, and senior programs, as well as a partnership with North Beach Place. Each day, Tel-Hi serves approximately 600 members of the North Beach and China Town communities ranging from age two-and-a-half to 102 (and "everyone in between," according to Daniels).
I spent the weeks that followed milling around Tel-Hi in my spare time, trying to observe as much as I could. Two of my more memorable visits involved sitting in on meetings of the North Beach Neighbors and the Friends of Tel-Hi, neither of which involved any direct contact with Daniels- yet the day I stopped by to find out if I might be able to ask him some questions, or if he'd prefer to be interviewed via e-mail, he commented on my persistence and jokingly referred to me as being "like a fungus."
Needless to say, I wasn't particularly amused, especially since he went on to suggest numerous times that I volunteer at the center/write for their newsletter. I get that he thought he was being funny, but I didn't enjoy feeling like my attempt to bring attention to such an interesting facet of the community was a bother. It didn't help that he seemed semi-suspicious of my motives every time he asked what this was for/what my angle was. I suffered further disappointment when I learned that in order to speak to the children who participate in Tel-Hi's programs, I'd have to secure a release and be supervised by a third party. I got the impression Daniels wasn't too keen to go through this particular process for the purpose of my midterm.
In spite of the aforementioned setbacks, I was ultimately happy with the interviews I got. My story didn't turn out the way I expected it to, but I still feel like I managed to shine a light on a deserving organization.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
I stumbled upon my midterm subject while looking for a meeting in North Beach. I read online that a group called the Friends of Tel-Hi would be holding a meeting at the Telegraph Hill Neighborhood Center on a Tuesday night in early October and decided to check it out. I was worried I’d be late and began preparing for the embarrassment that generally comes from sauntering into meetings 10 minutes late… To my surprise (and great relief), I was actually early- 24 hours early.
A member of the center's staff introduced me to Tel-Hi's director, Tim Daniels, who explained that the meeting was actually set to take place the following day. Then he checked his e-mail and found that the Friends decided to postpone another week and take a well-deserved break after the success of their first fundraiser, Breakfast for Books. After chatting briefly with Daniels about the center's stance on the controversy surrounding the possible renovation of the North Beach library (Tel-Hi's chosen to remain neutral so as not to alienate donors but keeps its doors open to community groups on both sides of the issue that wish to hold their meetings at the center), it occurred to me that Tel-Hi might make an interesting profile subject.
I googled the center when I got home and learned that it was founded by Grace Cathedral Sunday school teachers Elizabeth Ashe and Alice Griffith in 1890 and was one of the first settlement homes on the west coast. More than 100 years later, Tel-Hi continues reaching out to the community through its preschool, K-5 after school academy, summer camp, teen leadership, and senior programs, as well as a partnership with North Beach Place. Each day, Tel-Hi serves approximately 600 members of the North Beach and China Town communities ranging from age two-and-a-half to 102 (and "everyone in between," according to Daniels).
I spent the weeks that followed milling around Tel-Hi in my spare time, trying to observe as much as I could. Two of my more memorable visits involved sitting in on meetings of the North Beach Neighbors and the Friends of Tel-Hi, neither of which involved any direct contact with Daniels- yet the day I stopped by to find out if I might be able to ask him some questions, or if he'd prefer to be interviewed via e-mail, he commented on my persistence and jokingly referred to me as being "like a fungus."
Needless to say, I wasn't particularly amused, especially since he went on to suggest numerous times that I volunteer at the center/write for their newsletter. I get that he thought he was being funny, but I didn't enjoy feeling like my attempt to bring attention to such an interesting facet of the community was a bother. It didn't help that he seemed semi-suspicious of my motives every time he asked what this was for/what my angle was. I suffered further disappointment when I learned that in order to speak to the children who participate in Tel-Hi's programs, I'd have to secure a release and be supervised by a third party. I got the impression Daniels wasn't too keen to go through this particular process for the purpose of my midterm.
In spite of the aforementioned setbacks, I was ultimately happy with the interviews I got. My story didn't turn out the way I expected it to, but I still feel like I managed to shine a light on a deserving organization.
Monday, September 28, 2009
My most recent offering to the reporting gods
HOOD1
Sept. 16, 2009
The small, elderly woman wanders into the Beat Museum in North Beach carrying a plastic shopping bag, her black jacket wet from the persistent drizzle outside. She paces silently for a moment before setting her sights on a classic car featured prominently near the museum’s entrance. Although the license plates say 1941, she tells anyone who will listen that the car is actually a 1935 model. She repeats this at least a dozen times, circles the vehicle and eventually heads back into the rain.
Brandon Loberg, a part-time museum employee, seems unfazed by what has just transpired. He refers to the woman as Millie and says she’s been known to stop by the museum every now and then. Loberg, who moved to North Beach four years ago, muses that the line between normal and not so normal has blurred since he took up residence in the neighborhood known as Little Italy.
"This part of North Beach has always been pretty crazy," said Loberg of the Broadway strip. "It’s historically a place where you could go to get anything."
"Sunday through Thursday it’s quaint," said Aaron Smith, owner and operator of the bar at the Basque Hotel on Romolo Place, just an alley away from the Beat Museum. "I like living up here. I don’t leave much."
North Beach, bordered by Fisherman’s Wharf to the north, the Financial District to the south, Telegraph Hill to the east and Chinatown to the west, was settled in the 1850s. In the late 1930s, the square-mile neighborhood experienced an influx of more than 60,000 Italian immigrants but by 1970, just 10 percent of the city’s Italian immigrants lived in North Beach.
"Most Italians have moved out," said Andrew Haag, a San Francsico State University senior. "The culture’s dying out."
In the 1950s, the corner of Broadway and Columbus Avenue was the epicenter of literary culture as it played host to the San Francisco Renaissance. Beat poets William S. Burroughs, Neal Cassady, Allen Ginsberg and Jack Kerouac all flocked to this creative mecca.
"This whole Broadway was the happening place," said Jerry Cimino, owner and curator of the Beat Museum. "These strip clubs used to be jazz clubs."
Although the entertainment along Broadway is mostly adult fare, those looking for less risqué forms of amusement find it at area hot spots like Cobb's Comedy Club, Bimbo's 365, Jazz at Pearl's and Club Fugazi, home of Ron Silver’s Beach Blanket Babylon.
Over the years, North Beach has made a name for itself as home to some of the city's best Italian eats, but one's dining options are hardly limited to pizza and pasta. Brandy Ho's Hunan Food, Maykedah Persian Restaurant, O'Reilly's Irish Pub and Restaurant, Sushi On North Beach, Taquería Zorro and Tandoori Mahal are just a few of the non-Italian offerings available in the area.
"A lot of the dishes are Italian. We don't want to stray away completely," said Pierre Tell, a server at Manga Rosa, a Brazilian restaurant on Stockton Street.
Originally from Sweden, Tell attended San Francisco State University on a soccer scholarship. He lives near Union Square and has worked in North Beach for the past five years.
"I've had pizza in every country in Europe and I've never had better pizza than on the corner," said Tell, referring to Tony's Pizza Napoletana, also on Stockton Street. "That spot has been doomed for seven or eight years. Tony came and there's a line out the door."
In 2007, the American Planning Association named North Beach one of the top 10 great neighborhoods. Washington Square Park, Coit Tower and Saints Peter and Paul Church all enhance the often picturesque beauty of Little Italy's awning draped avenues. They also provide a stark contrast to the flashing neon signs announcing Broadway's strip clubs and the vacant storefronts that now pepper the quaint streets.
"Some people aren't willing to turn down Broadway because they see skin," said Cimino. "The strip clubs are good neighbors. They’re good to me."
With a median home price of approximately $1.3 million and an average household income of $93,961 compared to a city-wide median of $65,519, not everyone can afford such good neighbors.
"You see more SUVs, more dogs. That whole diversity of economics doesn’t exist in cities as much as it used to," said Robert Carlson, branch manager of the North Beach public library, which has become a source of neighborhood controversy in its own right.
For the past decade, community leaders have struggled to decide whether the library’s existing building, originally constructed by Appleton & Wolford in 1958, should be renovated or if a new branch should be constructed. Among those in favor of preserving the current building are the Telegraph Hill Dwellers and the North Beach Neighbors while area writers Jack Hirschman and Lawrence Ferlinghetti support the proposed new branch.
"I see no historic value in this current building," said Carlson who recalled bringing an umbrella to work when rain began seeping through the library’s badly damaged roof onto his desk. "In my personal opinion, it’s a bit of an eyesore."
North Beach has seen its share of change in its nearly 150 year history, but the overall sense of community shared by residents remains strong.
"I feel safe here. I feel good because it's a community," said Ethel Jimenez, an insurance broker who opened Gallery 28 on Grant Avenue in July. "It’s been great here. The other merchants came out and welcomed me."
"I like the family feeling of the neighborhood," said Loberg of the Beat Museum. "It’s one of the last neighborhoods that feels like a neighborhood."
Sept. 16, 2009
The small, elderly woman wanders into the Beat Museum in North Beach carrying a plastic shopping bag, her black jacket wet from the persistent drizzle outside. She paces silently for a moment before setting her sights on a classic car featured prominently near the museum’s entrance. Although the license plates say 1941, she tells anyone who will listen that the car is actually a 1935 model. She repeats this at least a dozen times, circles the vehicle and eventually heads back into the rain.
Brandon Loberg, a part-time museum employee, seems unfazed by what has just transpired. He refers to the woman as Millie and says she’s been known to stop by the museum every now and then. Loberg, who moved to North Beach four years ago, muses that the line between normal and not so normal has blurred since he took up residence in the neighborhood known as Little Italy.
"This part of North Beach has always been pretty crazy," said Loberg of the Broadway strip. "It’s historically a place where you could go to get anything."
"Sunday through Thursday it’s quaint," said Aaron Smith, owner and operator of the bar at the Basque Hotel on Romolo Place, just an alley away from the Beat Museum. "I like living up here. I don’t leave much."
North Beach, bordered by Fisherman’s Wharf to the north, the Financial District to the south, Telegraph Hill to the east and Chinatown to the west, was settled in the 1850s. In the late 1930s, the square-mile neighborhood experienced an influx of more than 60,000 Italian immigrants but by 1970, just 10 percent of the city’s Italian immigrants lived in North Beach.
"Most Italians have moved out," said Andrew Haag, a San Francsico State University senior. "The culture’s dying out."
In the 1950s, the corner of Broadway and Columbus Avenue was the epicenter of literary culture as it played host to the San Francisco Renaissance. Beat poets William S. Burroughs, Neal Cassady, Allen Ginsberg and Jack Kerouac all flocked to this creative mecca.
"This whole Broadway was the happening place," said Jerry Cimino, owner and curator of the Beat Museum. "These strip clubs used to be jazz clubs."
Although the entertainment along Broadway is mostly adult fare, those looking for less risqué forms of amusement find it at area hot spots like Cobb's Comedy Club, Bimbo's 365, Jazz at Pearl's and Club Fugazi, home of Ron Silver’s Beach Blanket Babylon.
Over the years, North Beach has made a name for itself as home to some of the city's best Italian eats, but one's dining options are hardly limited to pizza and pasta. Brandy Ho's Hunan Food, Maykedah Persian Restaurant, O'Reilly's Irish Pub and Restaurant, Sushi On North Beach, Taquería Zorro and Tandoori Mahal are just a few of the non-Italian offerings available in the area.
"A lot of the dishes are Italian. We don't want to stray away completely," said Pierre Tell, a server at Manga Rosa, a Brazilian restaurant on Stockton Street.
Originally from Sweden, Tell attended San Francisco State University on a soccer scholarship. He lives near Union Square and has worked in North Beach for the past five years.
"I've had pizza in every country in Europe and I've never had better pizza than on the corner," said Tell, referring to Tony's Pizza Napoletana, also on Stockton Street. "That spot has been doomed for seven or eight years. Tony came and there's a line out the door."
In 2007, the American Planning Association named North Beach one of the top 10 great neighborhoods. Washington Square Park, Coit Tower and Saints Peter and Paul Church all enhance the often picturesque beauty of Little Italy's awning draped avenues. They also provide a stark contrast to the flashing neon signs announcing Broadway's strip clubs and the vacant storefronts that now pepper the quaint streets.
"Some people aren't willing to turn down Broadway because they see skin," said Cimino. "The strip clubs are good neighbors. They’re good to me."
With a median home price of approximately $1.3 million and an average household income of $93,961 compared to a city-wide median of $65,519, not everyone can afford such good neighbors.
"You see more SUVs, more dogs. That whole diversity of economics doesn’t exist in cities as much as it used to," said Robert Carlson, branch manager of the North Beach public library, which has become a source of neighborhood controversy in its own right.
For the past decade, community leaders have struggled to decide whether the library’s existing building, originally constructed by Appleton & Wolford in 1958, should be renovated or if a new branch should be constructed. Among those in favor of preserving the current building are the Telegraph Hill Dwellers and the North Beach Neighbors while area writers Jack Hirschman and Lawrence Ferlinghetti support the proposed new branch.
"I see no historic value in this current building," said Carlson who recalled bringing an umbrella to work when rain began seeping through the library’s badly damaged roof onto his desk. "In my personal opinion, it’s a bit of an eyesore."
North Beach has seen its share of change in its nearly 150 year history, but the overall sense of community shared by residents remains strong.
"I feel safe here. I feel good because it's a community," said Ethel Jimenez, an insurance broker who opened Gallery 28 on Grant Avenue in July. "It’s been great here. The other merchants came out and welcomed me."
"I like the family feeling of the neighborhood," said Loberg of the Beat Museum. "It’s one of the last neighborhoods that feels like a neighborhood."
Class Blog 2
Ciao, bella!
Monday, September 21, 2009
I decided to swing by North Beach Saturday to check out the San Francisco Italian Athletic Club's Festa Coloniale Italiana, a FREE day of food, family and culture on Stockton between Union and Filbert. The festivities got underway at 11:30 a.m. but I arrived fashionably late (I'm sure showing up five hours late is fashionable somewhere in Italy) and found that the party was still in full-swing. The single block was flanked with merchants peddling Italian wares ranging from olive oil and red wine vinegar to murano glass jewelry. My personal favorite was a booth specializing in Italian license plate frames with slogans like, "There's no such thing as too much garlic" and "Italians never die, they just pastaway."
I eventually made my way over to the SFIAC's table where I met Jim Toland, a member of the club's board of directors. Turns out Toland studied journalism at SFSU, went on to write for the Chronicle and eventually returned to SFSU to teach reporting. SMALL world. I learned that the the 620 member SFIAC was founded in 1918 to give male Italian immigrants who came to North Beach looking for work a social outlet of sorts. Toland was quick to point out that the club welcomes "women and people of all backgrounds," a sentiment strongly supported by the diverse crowd that descended on Stockton that sunny (and eventually blustery) day.
Bella Ciao, an SF-based six piece band specializing in classic Italian tunes, was onstage by the time I made my way back toward Union. "Everybody’s Italian today! Are you feeling it San Francisco?" asked the lead singer. Her enthusiasm seemed to do very little to move the vast majority of festa-goers from their folding white seats. I suspect this had something to do with the vast quantities of pasta that had no doubt been consumed by the 5 o'clock hour. A less starch-stuffed crowd certainly wouldn't have been able to resist Bella Ciao's repeated requests to put their hands in the air.
Monday, September 21, 2009
I decided to swing by North Beach Saturday to check out the San Francisco Italian Athletic Club's Festa Coloniale Italiana, a FREE day of food, family and culture on Stockton between Union and Filbert. The festivities got underway at 11:30 a.m. but I arrived fashionably late (I'm sure showing up five hours late is fashionable somewhere in Italy) and found that the party was still in full-swing. The single block was flanked with merchants peddling Italian wares ranging from olive oil and red wine vinegar to murano glass jewelry. My personal favorite was a booth specializing in Italian license plate frames with slogans like, "There's no such thing as too much garlic" and "Italians never die, they just pastaway."
I eventually made my way over to the SFIAC's table where I met Jim Toland, a member of the club's board of directors. Turns out Toland studied journalism at SFSU, went on to write for the Chronicle and eventually returned to SFSU to teach reporting. SMALL world. I learned that the the 620 member SFIAC was founded in 1918 to give male Italian immigrants who came to North Beach looking for work a social outlet of sorts. Toland was quick to point out that the club welcomes "women and people of all backgrounds," a sentiment strongly supported by the diverse crowd that descended on Stockton that sunny (and eventually blustery) day.
Bella Ciao, an SF-based six piece band specializing in classic Italian tunes, was onstage by the time I made my way back toward Union. "Everybody’s Italian today! Are you feeling it San Francisco?" asked the lead singer. Her enthusiasm seemed to do very little to move the vast majority of festa-goers from their folding white seats. I suspect this had something to do with the vast quantities of pasta that had no doubt been consumed by the 5 o'clock hour. A less starch-stuffed crowd certainly wouldn't have been able to resist Bella Ciao's repeated requests to put their hands in the air.
Class Blog 1
Saved by the bookstore
Monday, September 14, 2009
Yesterday marked my 5th visit to North Beach and it was, in a word, wet. The skies looked less than friendly when I left my apartment Sunday afternoon, but I threw caution to the wind and ventured out sans umbrella, sensible shoes, poncho, etc. This was not wise. When I stepped off muni, I expected to be greeted by the sun's rays rather than a torrential downpour. I decided to forgo the bus in spite of the soggy conditions and made my way from Kearny to Columbus on foot. I contemplated whether looking like a wet rat would hinder my ability to snag interviews.
I walked into a café/bakery somewhere along Columbus and made a half-baked (pun intended) attempt at extracting a quote or two from a friendly, but less than knowledgeable employee- when I asked how long the place had been in business, she looked for the answer on a to-go box. As good as it smelled in there, I decided to move on after a few minutes.
I wandered aimlessly for what seemed like an eternity until I quite literally found salvation at Francesco Rocks, a Catholic bookstore on Grant that sells everything from crucifixes and frescos to a wide selection of religious texts. It was there that I had the pleasure of meeting Kathleen, an incredibly well-connected bookstore volunteer. I ended up answering as many questions as I asked which might have annoyed me if Kathleen, a former journalism student, hadn’t whipped out her iPhone and shared some very valuable digits. I now know how to reach a 20 year North Beach resident and a former Chronicle staff writer. Not too shabby.
Kathleen recommended that I hurry along and check out La Porziuncola Nuova of the National Shrine of Saint Francis on Columbus at Vallejo, but alas, it was closed by the time I found it. Who knew shrines had official hours of operation?
After further aimless wandering, I stumbled into the bar at the Basque Hotel located in an alley off Broadway- which sounds far shadier than it is. Aaron, the bar's owner/operator, looked like a cross between Jake Gyllenhaal and Justin Bobby of MTV's The Hills. But that's beside the point… I read somewhere that the average North Beach resident is 42 years old. When I told Aaron this, he said he figured it was probably true but added that the neighborhood seemed to be gaining popularity with a younger demographic. When I asked what he thought made it unpopular in the first place, he replied with Justin Bobby-esque charm that it had a reputation for being "douchey" thanks to the bar and club scene. Before I departed, I managed to get the names of some of Aaron's favorite area eateries. Naked Lunch, Macaroni Café and Mario's Bohemian Cigar Store Café are all musts, if only to run into a certain blue-eyed barkeep. Kidding, of course (sort of).
My last stop of the day was the Beat Museum. I chatted with Brandon who I found manning the museum store's counter, although chatting may be a bit of an understatement since I was there nearly two hours. We discussed everything from the upcoming Hardly Strictly Bluegrass (free!) concert in the park to the museum's ticket sales that day (just $75). I learned that Mark Alvarez is THE ultimate beat cop. According to Brandon's friend Mark (go figure) who happened to be hanging around the museum, Officer Alvarez "looks like a stereotypical cop" and his speech has a certain cop-like cadence (whatever that means). Needless to say, I'm looking forward to meeting this man. They also mentioned that it's almost difficult to get arrested in North Beach, a theory I don't plan to test.
When I asked Brandon about his craziest North Beach-related experience, he struggled to come up with one. He mused that this may have had something to do with the fact that living in San Francisco long enough has been known to alter one's perception of crazy. In the end, he came up with two particularly memorable moments...apparently it's not uncommon to find your neighbor launching bottles out his window in the wee hours of the morning or a used Christmas tree ablaze in the intersection of Stockton, Green and Columbus.
Perception altering indeed.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Yesterday marked my 5th visit to North Beach and it was, in a word, wet. The skies looked less than friendly when I left my apartment Sunday afternoon, but I threw caution to the wind and ventured out sans umbrella, sensible shoes, poncho, etc. This was not wise. When I stepped off muni, I expected to be greeted by the sun's rays rather than a torrential downpour. I decided to forgo the bus in spite of the soggy conditions and made my way from Kearny to Columbus on foot. I contemplated whether looking like a wet rat would hinder my ability to snag interviews.
I walked into a café/bakery somewhere along Columbus and made a half-baked (pun intended) attempt at extracting a quote or two from a friendly, but less than knowledgeable employee- when I asked how long the place had been in business, she looked for the answer on a to-go box. As good as it smelled in there, I decided to move on after a few minutes.
I wandered aimlessly for what seemed like an eternity until I quite literally found salvation at Francesco Rocks, a Catholic bookstore on Grant that sells everything from crucifixes and frescos to a wide selection of religious texts. It was there that I had the pleasure of meeting Kathleen, an incredibly well-connected bookstore volunteer. I ended up answering as many questions as I asked which might have annoyed me if Kathleen, a former journalism student, hadn’t whipped out her iPhone and shared some very valuable digits. I now know how to reach a 20 year North Beach resident and a former Chronicle staff writer. Not too shabby.
Kathleen recommended that I hurry along and check out La Porziuncola Nuova of the National Shrine of Saint Francis on Columbus at Vallejo, but alas, it was closed by the time I found it. Who knew shrines had official hours of operation?
After further aimless wandering, I stumbled into the bar at the Basque Hotel located in an alley off Broadway- which sounds far shadier than it is. Aaron, the bar's owner/operator, looked like a cross between Jake Gyllenhaal and Justin Bobby of MTV's The Hills. But that's beside the point… I read somewhere that the average North Beach resident is 42 years old. When I told Aaron this, he said he figured it was probably true but added that the neighborhood seemed to be gaining popularity with a younger demographic. When I asked what he thought made it unpopular in the first place, he replied with Justin Bobby-esque charm that it had a reputation for being "douchey" thanks to the bar and club scene. Before I departed, I managed to get the names of some of Aaron's favorite area eateries. Naked Lunch, Macaroni Café and Mario's Bohemian Cigar Store Café are all musts, if only to run into a certain blue-eyed barkeep. Kidding, of course (sort of).
My last stop of the day was the Beat Museum. I chatted with Brandon who I found manning the museum store's counter, although chatting may be a bit of an understatement since I was there nearly two hours. We discussed everything from the upcoming Hardly Strictly Bluegrass (free!) concert in the park to the museum's ticket sales that day (just $75). I learned that Mark Alvarez is THE ultimate beat cop. According to Brandon's friend Mark (go figure) who happened to be hanging around the museum, Officer Alvarez "looks like a stereotypical cop" and his speech has a certain cop-like cadence (whatever that means). Needless to say, I'm looking forward to meeting this man. They also mentioned that it's almost difficult to get arrested in North Beach, a theory I don't plan to test.
When I asked Brandon about his craziest North Beach-related experience, he struggled to come up with one. He mused that this may have had something to do with the fact that living in San Francisco long enough has been known to alter one's perception of crazy. In the end, he came up with two particularly memorable moments...apparently it's not uncommon to find your neighbor launching bottles out his window in the wee hours of the morning or a used Christmas tree ablaze in the intersection of Stockton, Green and Columbus.
Perception altering indeed.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
The Scarlet "F"
While I believe most people find group work distasteful, I sincerely doubt anyone hates it quite as much as I do. Here's a brief list of things I find preferable to group work:
1. Swine flu
2. Ebola
3. Miley Cyrus
First things first- the term “group work” is a misnomer. It doesn't matter how many people you throw at a project, one poor schmuck always get stuck with, well, everything.
My name is Morgan and I am that poor schmuck.
My hatred of so-called group work dates back to the 3rd grade when I was forced to collaborate with a particularly annoying young chap (we'll call him Darryl) on a project about the Gold Rush or pilgrims or whatever it is you're supposed to learn in the 3rd grade. After several frustrating days spent trying to inspire Darryl to contribute something other than fart noises and snot bubbles, I approached our teacher and explained with the eloquence of a 5th grader why I simply couldn’t work with him any longer. When I asked, nay, begged Mrs. What's-her-face for a new partner, I was greeted with a condescending lecture that went something like, "You know, Morgan, things aren't always fair and it's important to learn how to work with all types of people because you’ll be faced with situations like this for the rest of your life…"
Turns out Mrs. What's-her-face was right. Year after year, project after project, I found myself in similarly frustrating situations. The only thing that kept me from jamming freshly sharpened No. 2 pencils into my eyeballs was the thought of college, a distant land where I'd be able to put the indignity of picking up other people's scholastic slack behind me. College, after all, is a place of independence. Independence and group work.
You see, the past three years of my higher education have been dedicated to being "the bigger person" while collaborating on everything from posters to term papers- ridiculous, no? It's not as if we're earning group degrees, although that might be one way to alleviate the CSU system's budget crisis. But I digress... If you've gotten this far, it should come as no surprise that when my History of Journalism professor announced last week that the enire course would be centered around group work, my stomach lurched and I broke into a cold sweat. I'm also fairly certain a tiny piece of my soul died. Not only will we be required to give group presentations, but said presentations will be graded by other groups. We're even formulating the questions for the final in groups. Where's a No. 2 pencil when you need one?!?
(Just to be clear, it's not as if I was expecting my world to be rocked by a course titled History of Journalism, or History of anything for that matter. I did, on the other hand, assume it would follow a fairly standard formula: professor ÷ students + lecture = complete boredom. I can handle boredom, but group work...not so much. What's that old saying about assuming and asses and "u" and me?)
Proponents of this specialized form of torture claim it builds character. My thoughts on that are as follows: if you haven't built up any character by the time you get to college, there's no hope for you. None. Getting stuck in a group with you certainly isn't doing anything for my character.
I should probably mention that I've only met with my latest round of group-mates once and that was just to exchange contact info and awkward small talk. At one point, a member of said group who shall remain nameless said, "No flakes, right?" What I can only assume was an attempt at levity elicited a half-hearted chuckle from the rest of the gang. I wasn't amused. Last time I checked, flakes don’t go around proclaiming their flake-dom. Instead, they wait until the night before a project's due to demonstrate their complete and utter uselessness. My fellow group members may be laughing now but I know it's only a matter of time before one of them decides to fly their flake flag.
I suppose in a perfect world they'd be branded with a scarlet F. Until that day, I'll just have to keep blogging.
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