My friend recently posted something on Facebook, about a person’s account with SF and how they felt about it changing and them being priced-out of their home. It was an interesting perspective on changing cities and gentrification. A perspective I haven’t thought of before. It considered a city as something that you can not hold onto and define, rather it changes and has a mind of it’s own. Here’s the link to the article: Priced Out: Saying Good-bye to the Myth of San Francisco
So it got me thinking, How do I feel about San Fran. The Bay Area? The place where I grew up and dreamed about? I’ve been angry for awhile about it’s changing face, but if I were to look at SF from this perspective, How would I feel? So I wrote this:
I remember loving SF. She was always a distant dream in my youth. A valley of opportunity of mystic proportions, life, creativity, a mix of interesting people unique to an island. In my childhood, SF signaled the epitome of “making it”. I promised myself one day I would live on her shores. And yet, years later, this love affair I had for her is gone. I slept in her bed, drunk with anticipation, only to discover her in the morning, make-up gone, the roses fallen from my eyes, and she was nothing like I imagined her. Heart broken, I clung to the idea that something had changed her. She was suppose to be the way I had dreamed her up, and yet, something made her different. I became upset, resentful, how could this be? Who did this? Change her back! Only to realize, like I have grown and changed, so has she, and the reality of San Francisco is only in my brain. So I woke up, we had coffee, talked for awhile, we embraced, and I left. It was only right. We couldn’t make each other happy anymore. My image of her had changed, and I went sailing off, to other shores.