December 29, 2021 ~ For Ayodele
I’ve been thinking a lot about one of the first lines of your message regarding the (un)reliable narrator, “Tell me about your San Francisco.” I’ve been thinking about your question non-stop and trying to figure out a point of departure. I hope you don’t mind me attempting to answer here in the form a letter to you and we can discuss further when we sit down together and break bread (even if digitally, whatever your comfort level because I am absolutely down to come pay you a visit). I’ve laid out some initial thoughts based on what you asked…
AN: What is precious to you about this place?
DS: I can’t help but think of how alive my senses feel when I think about the places were I grew up and learned the most about life and how to be around and with others. 24th Street and Mission. The Bayview. Haight Street. The Presidio. Then again, it’s the amalgamation of memories that bubble to the surface when I tell someone curious about the San Francisco where I evolved. But as I age and mature, the most precious thing about San Francisco is my mother and how she raised me in a place like no other place in the world. She birthed a queer kid in a historically queer space. I was almost born in the Philippines, but things worked out differently for her and me.
AN: Where are your memories stored here?
DS: Oh wow…well, my memories are stored in the alternating blue and red bricks along Mission street sidewalks. The iron gate to the apartment complex where our family first lived right at 24th and Mission. They’re also sprinkled up and down Haight street, at the smoothie place where I would go on break and visit the queer non-binary human with green hair that had a crush on me. Stonestown mall food court and inside a store that has changed 5 times over on the first floor because I will never forget learning how to play a ton of board games when I worked at the Game Gallery. Memories rush in when I’m at my sister’s house in Bernal Heights. All of the weekends we walked up the hill to Four Star Video and rented horror films and bought a shit ton of candy. Damn. Memories are stored in countless places. Too many to name, but always there waiting for me to remember.
AN: Why in those places?
DS: Because, those places all feel like home. ♥️
AN: What does home mean to you?
DS: Home means love, respectful disagreements, reciprocity, mutuality, care, sanctuary, refuge, safety, fortitude, a place to imagine, a place to dream, a respite and a reprieve.
AN: If you had to take SF with you but you only had so much space what would have to come with you? Why? What would you leave on purpose? Why?
DS: I still haven’t found the words or the “perfect” answer (I know this doesn’t exist), but there is so much I would love to take with me if I had to go somewhere else. I also thought, and this might be morbid, but I thought about transitioning into ancestorhood and being granted something from SF that I could carry with me into the after life (like personal snowglobe) and my imagination burst open and so many things flooded my mind. I’ll have to think about this some more, but I’ll definitely let you know when we talk.
Also, I want to do the same for you. How may I be of service to your stories, your memories, your care and service to the community? I feel so incredibly honored and humbled to have experienced this past year with you. I don’t know where to begin and I want to continue honoring how much you’ve given me since we met. Sending hugs and well wishes. You are love(ed). Talk soon…
On the digital thread of the time-space continuum, here is a post from December 29, 2011.
