Haight Words Read online

  Praise for

  HAIGHT WORDS

  “The voices of persons experiencing homelessness are too often silenced, and author Lori Pino set out to rectify this in San Francisco’s Haight Street district. Poetic free-style statements underscore their creativity and individuality, a refreshing counterpoint to the monolithic negative portrayals that blind us. Accompanied by colorful illustrations, these testaments to resilience are evocative and, above all, honest.”

  —Deborah K. Padgett, PhD, MPH

  Professor, Silver School of Social Work, New York University; Lead Author of Housing First: Ending Homelessness, Transforming Systems, and Changing Lives

  “Lori Pino’s Haight Words book of poetry and art captures the feelings, sounds, experiences of a unique historical corner of the world. The powerful poems express the pain and the joy, the suffering and the dreams, but most of all the humanity of those forced to occupy the sidewalks and parks of the Haight Ashbury district of San Francisco. Living destitute and surviving on the margins of such a wealthy city is no easy path, and this book lays out, in the dignified words of those who are walking it, what that feels like.”

  —Jennifer Friedenbach

  Executive Director, Coalition on Homelessness, San Francisco

  “Though captured in a small corner of earth, this collection of reflexive writings from those living on the streets of San Francisco’s Haight Street, along with the author’s empathic illustrations, pensively reveals our deep interconnectedness. The words of each writer ignite with rawness, insight, humor, and wit, while social order as we know it collapses and spills off the page. Haight Words never romanticizes; rather, the complexities of life in the urban exterior consistently shines through with each writing and each image.”

  —Anita Chang

  Author of Third Digital Documentary: A Theory and Practice of Transmedia Arts Activism, Critical Design and Ethics

  “‘Do you ever stop to think about the people on the street and what their lives were like before they started bathing in public restrooms and pushing all of their belongings around in a shopping cart?’ It’s an important question posed by the poet Mary Mc in Haight Words: Voices from the Street. Mary Mc is one of fifty-two contributors to Lori Pino’s anthology of poetry and prose by members of the unhoused communities living in San Francisco’s historical Haight/Ashbury. Each work is accompanied with a colorful illustration by Pino, a playful and powerful collaboration that helps transport us to the crossroads of ‘Love & Haight.’ This thoughtful and beautiful work weaves together the varied experiences of those who are connected by the collective experience of living unhoused on the streets of the iconic neighborhood I too have lived in for the past decade. Stories of community, love, and magic are countered with words of struggle, pain, and isolation, often in the same work. Most notably, Haight Words is a space of healing, nurturing, and unconditional giving: one doesn’t have to be ‘good’; one doesn’t have to have to be ‘productive,’ and one doesn’t even have to be ‘nice.’ Everyone is worthy, welcome, and has a voice.”

  —Megan Wilson

  Artist and Founder of Better Homes & Gardens Today; Co-Director of Clarion Alley Mural Project; and Haight Resident

  Haight Words:

  Voices from the Street

  By Lori Pino

  © Copyright 2021 Lori Pino

  ISBN 978-1-64663-343-2

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other—except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Cover design by Skyler Kratofil.

  Published by

  3705 Shore Drive

  Virginia Beach, VA 23455

  800–435–4811

  www.koehlerbooks.com

  THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED TO

  Our fellow beings

  living on the streets

  everywhere,

  who matter.

  Table of Contents

  INTRODUCTION

  Kevin N.

  Henry C.

  Mary Mc

  Todd S.

  Kenny H.

  Caine Y.

  Irving J. M. S.

  Tim K.

  Rachael D.

  Shaggy

  Ash

  Michael J. T.

  Rev Jerold N.

  Perry L. U.

  Aaron G.

  2-Bit

  Brett K. W. (aka Skuz)

  Rodney L.

  Drunnep C.

  Skiza

  Tim S.

  Truble/Trouble

  Shawn G.

  Mark O.

  Andrew H.

  Reginald M. J.

  Walt

  “Natural” S.

  Shaun U.

  Michael E. D.

  Stoner

  Dwayne F.

  Christina E.

  Carl H.

  Indra J. G.

  David (Betty) R.

  Brent W.

  Edward R.

  Monkey

  Lena N.

  Brandon C.

  Ryan Z.

  Rodger G.

  Alejandro O.

  Michael L.

  William R. N.

  AG

  Lamar M.

  Adam B.

  Julia M.

  Michael V-W

  Jason S.

  Juel J.

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Biography: About the Author

  INTRODUCTION

  Several years ago, I was taking an evening stroll with my brother, who lived in an apartment overlooking Haight Street in San Francisco. For most people, the thought of Haight Street (aka the Haight) conjures up images of the ’60s heydays, hippies, free love, drugs, great music—the “Haight-Ashbury” era. It was a transformative time leaving an indelible mark on American society, like a signpost for all seeking a new form of existence and purpose. Perhaps that’s why so many continue to be drawn to the Haight, contributing to its colorful and vibrant appeal.

  After dining at a nearby restaurant, my brother and I headed back to the apartment with our leftovers when we came across a homeless man, whom we found had more to offer us than the food we presented. He thanked us in the form of two poems he had written. The man’s work impressed us and made us wonder how many talented people of the streets go unrecognized, aside from the obvious disdain displayed by onlookers carrying (or should I say caring) nothing but contempt for these individuals.

  Here is an overlooked sector of society that possesses the same ability to create and build upon ideas as anyone else, yet its voice is rarely heard or acknowledged. What a shame, we thought. We discussed the possibility of creating a forum for people living on Haight Street to express themselves, shed light on their existence, and to be heard. Their expressions would give a whole new meaning to “Haight Words.” Maybe those who normally would not listen could finally appreciate and accept homeless individuals as a viable part of humanity, thereby committing valuable resources to improve and validate their existence.

  Well, there it remained. As much as we believed in the idea, I don’t think either one of us felt it would come to fruition, given the societal constraints to which we subscribed at the time—you know, existence jobs, or obligations that took all our time and energy but paid the bills and made us feel worthy of living in such a free and rich nation. We went about our ways, yet the idea stayed with me year after year.

&n
bsp; Having adopted a different perspective since its inception, I decided revisiting this idea might also contribute to my own personal shift toward a truer existence. So for two weekends in the fall of 2004, I walked up and down the Haight to connect with the street poets, songwriters, and philosophers who would agree to lend their words and names to this idea in exchange for five dollars—all I could afford to offer at the time—hoping it would provide for a mutually beneficial exchange. I carried a bag of bright orange pre-printed forms, short pencils, and a stack of five-dollar bills. The top of each form read, “For $5, I agree to write about my experience (original poem, story, thought) of living/hangin’ out on Haight Street. I also agree not to sue L. Pino if she decides to use this information in a future book project.” Under the statement was a signature and date line, with plenty of room below to speak their mind in writing.

  As I walked the Haight, I approached those I felt drawn to, whose home and livelihood appeared to be on the street. I introduced myself, met with each person at eye-level, and conveyed my intentions. For those interested (all but one or two), I provided a pencil and the brightly colored pre-printed sheet of paper. I indicated I would return later in the day to collect their writings and hand them five dollars. The methodology worked well. When I returned the second weekend, word had traveled and I had a new name, the “poet lady.” While the time I spent listening, speaking, and reading what street folks wrote was limited, the connection I felt was more than rewarding. It was an illuminating experience, which inspired me to include with each entry a visual representation of their words—my illustrated response. Unfortunately, I was unable to stay in contact with the people I met.

  Little did I know that, in the years to come, their plight would be shared exponentially by those impacted by the Coronavirus pandemic resulting in thousands more unemployed and displaced. For the first time in American history since the Great Depression, there was an undeniable urgency for the public and private sectors of this country to address homelessness and dedicate resources toward restoring all segments of society to more equitable levels. Therefore, an opportunity existed for the marginalized to be recognized, to be seen, and to be heard, which could ultimately lead to a positive individual and societal transformation. At least, that’s what I had hoped because I believed this was not only necessary but possible.

  So, rather than present you with another book rehashing the lore of the “Haight-Ashbury,” I give you my personal tribute to the gifted people living on the Haight. Haight Words invites you to open your heart and mind, to engage on another level, to conceive of a more inclusive and accepting world for all to inhabit safely and free of judgment. These words may even inspire those who would not ordinarily do so to extend themselves by acknowledging others who appear different, and to reach out in an effort to serve in some fashion. Whatever your response, I offer gratitude for just turning the page. You may find yourself pleasantly surprised.

  In appreciation of the fifty-three generous souls who contributed to this work, I am honored to share their expressions of life with you. This, as they write, is Haight Words: Voices from the Street!

  I often believe that I would make a good hippy.

  But almost all the love of that era is gone.

  So I came here to see this historical site, to breathe the air

  of the spot where the hippies once smoked.

  Only to find them still here alive and well.

  Not talking of the old days,

  but living in a new.

  So I came to find memories, but found laughter and friends.

  And I will always say that Haight Street showed me love.

  KEVIN N.

  My thoughts about life on the Haight are as follows

  slightly cloudy and a bit chill like the weather

  but I have faith that things will improve once

  I’ve imbibed about 80 ounces of liquid sunshine

  my thought for the future is to seek out

  the fountain of eternally flowing wine.

  This is about as articulate as I’m willing

  to get for the price agreed upon earlier.

  If I were a brilliant and insightful guy,

  I wouldn’t be preaching sidewalk philosophy.

  HENRY C.

  Do you ever stop to think about the people on the street?

  I mean the people that stop you, begging for change and your leftover food.

  Maybe all you see are dirty outstretched hands & pathetic drunken sob stories.

  Bums sleeping on filthy sidewalks because they deserve it.

  “Why don’t you get off your ass and get a job, loser!!”

  Do you ever stop to think about the people on the street

  and what their lives were like before they started bathing in public restrooms and pushing all of their belongings around in a shopping cart?

  Maybe they once had everything you have, or more.

  Maybe they were your next door neighbor, or brother, or mother.

  Maybe they had jobs, or went to school, or had children.

  Maybe they were good people that had something bad happen to them.

  Maybe they chose this lifestyle?

  No responsibility or bills.

  Who knows, maybe they are just bums?

  Stop to think next time.

  MARY MC

  “The Gargoyles’ Graveyard”

  written by Todd Mac Donald Strickland,

  alias Foxx Mac Donald 2002,

  while in prison on Haight St.

  Away from city streets

  in a wooded dell snug with waist high ferns

  there sat, knelt, crouched a many

  the gargoyles graveyard and

  stones of myth a plenty.

  TODD S.

  I Love You

  KENNY H.

  Sometimes it rains, sometimes it shines.

  Brothers and sisters, there is magic everywhere.

  Just bring yourself or family maybe a friend.

  Have fun in whatever you do, and remember

  and remember that someone somewhere

  loves you!!

  CAINE Y.

  1) I am not Amerikan

  2) Is not what it used to be, o what the tourist guide say!

  3) Is the display of the (grotesque Americana)

  The Haight is a very pretentious place.

  It the American phony white intentions

  to be open minded & cosmopolitan

  most of the people that you see strowling around here

  are midle class losser’s locking for cheap trill’s.

  now that the hippies are gone

  all is left is the police arasing the homeless and the mentally ill

  or anybody that don’t look like your usual fat & ugly Amerikan

  that is out to spend some money buy the overpriced trinket that the Indues or Pakistanis

  sell in their smoke shop’s traing to capitalize on the hippie utopia

  I tink the Haight is a really ugly place

  is not “Amsterdam” by any means.

  Even the burritos cost $1.00 more than anywhere else

  The pizza is bad and the Chinese food is meager

  but overall is not what America is all about? . .

  Is fake, phony, expensive, and over rated

  not to say disapointing . . . . . !

  It just reafirm my suspicious

  that is a bleasing not being an American.

  IRVING J. M. S.

  I fell in love with the Haight the same summer I fell in love with Maggie.

  Summertime on the Haight is magical, like no other place in the world.

  Sunshine and drum circles, kids just off tour, all

  the smells and sounds that are exclusive to the Haight.

  Maggie was from
Virginia and we met when they were having a big too do at Hippie Hill.

  Blonde hair and blue eyes and a country twang was all it took for me too fall for her.

  But it was something also . . . just being on Haight—the front of the park

  —around the people who stay here—live here.

  The music and atmosphere made it one of the best times in my life. We stayed together experiencing good times and bad times (mostly good times),

  going to concerts in the park and stroll down the street.

  We made through the rainy winter and were here when spring came around.

  Even in the cold wet months, the Haight has some kind of charm that kept us here.

  The regulars were also here the kids, the punk rockers, the middle-aged drunkers.

  Some left town and came back, others stayed,

  but me and Maggie became a fixture on Haight St.

  I wrote “Tim loves Maggie” on some wet cement in front of several store

  they are there too this day, and will be there for a long time too come.

  We made the mistake of starting to use heroin and became dependant on it

  —in a way we became more dependant on each other also

  still we stayed in the place we loved best

  knowing all the secret places, and best spots too sleep, the best food and drink.

  We were like two kids experiencing a whole brand new big world

  —the Haight was our kingdom and she was my queen.

  This is all about 10 years ago, and I haven’t talked too Maggie in a few years,