10.23.00
District 10: Outside looking in
By Betsey Culp
The voters who live way out in the wide open spaces
of District 10 are providing a clear demonstration of why machine
politicians hate district elections. These proud people are angry. And
anger spawns independent votes.
This is a district where the candidates
for supervisor recite the names of the neighborhoods they would represent
— Potrero Hill, Bayview–Hunters Point, Portola–Silver Terrace, Visitacion
Valley — on nearly every piece of campaign literature, like an
incantation. Political observers like the Chronicle’s Edward Epstein will
tell you that District “tells a tale of two cities.” But he
underestimates.
One candidate, Jim Rodriguez, recognizes
the remarkable diversity of the district when he describes it as “a
healthy mix of communities who may identify themselves as
African-American, Asian, Progressive Whites, Latinos, and Gay.” Another,
J. R. Manuel, sees the similarities binding its residents together and
separating them from the rest of San Francisco: “District 10 is one of the
larger districts, has the most underdeveloped lands, has the poorest
economy, is very ethnically diverse, and has the largest youth population
in the city.”
And then there are all those
neighborhoods. Potrero, whose ornate victorians overlook downtown San
Francisco, boasts a long working-class history. In the late nineteenth
century, workers trudged down from their rooming houses on what was then
known as Scottish Hill and neighboring Irish Hill (now the flattened
Dogpatch) to the drydocks and ropeworks at the edge of the bay. By the
middle of the twentieth century, the Celts had given way to immigrants
from Eastern Europe — Slovenes, Estonians, and especially Russian
religious dissenters.
Now its population is under siege and its
working-class traditions are rapidly dissipating in the face of a new
migration wave. Says Century 21 representative Ben Coleman, “This
affordable area has spectacular views, a number of historic victorians and
Queen Anne cottages awaiting restoration. It’s a diverse area of ethnic
minorities who have lived in the area for some time, and young
professionals who were recently attracted to the tremendous home values.
Along with these new ‘emigrants’ has come an interesting collection of
shops, galleries, and eateries.” With
this kind of progress, is it any wonder that the area is also, as Epstein
notes, “fiercely activist”?
Travel south from Potrero along 3rd
Street, and you come first to Hunters Point and then to Bayview, lumped
together for their joint occupation of the city’s southeasternmost
hinterlands. Their population is predominately African-American, augmented
in the 1960s by the “redevelopment” of the Fillmore and its resulting
black exodus. But once upon a time, they were quite different entities.
Early on, the Bayview became known as a place of entertainment. In 1864
Mark Twain joined a crowd of “moral young men and cocktails” making their
way to Bay View Park for “the best trotting race of the season.” In the
late 1880s, elegant theater goers traveled by horse and buggy to the newly
constructed South San Francisco (later, Bayview) Opera House, applauding
road companies of well-known actors and actresses and whiling away
intermissions at a brewery across the street.
Hunters Point, named for
the family that settled there, quickly took on a maritime role. In 1867 it
became home to the first drydock on the West Coast. In 1942, just after
the bombing of Pearl Harbor, this site became the object of a wartime
federal land grab, as the Navy put the 100 civilian families living in the
vicinity on 48-hour notice to move out. The San Francisco News of March 10
reported, “It was not revealed what machinery the Navy had set up to pay
property owners or to provide them with new living quarters. All Hunters
Point residents are citizens, aliens having been removed several weeks
ago. ‘We sincerely regret these families must move, but military necessity
must come before other considerations,’ declared Rear Adm. John Wills
Greenslade.”
Just inland, extending up from San Francisco’s
southern border, lie Visitacion Valley and Portola–Silver Terrace. Here’s
where the district’s ethnic diversity becomes most obvious: Vis Valley
counts 11 percent Latinos and 39 percent African Americans among its
likely voters; 17 percent of the voters in the neighborhood to the north
are Asian. Named by the Spanish for the Visitation of the Virgin Mary to
Saint Elizabeth, the area was once a very small part of José Cornelio
Bernal’s mammoth land holdings; in recent years it has been home to a
blue-collar population, often employed by the mammoth Schlage Lock
Company.
Here too, however, the
times they are a-changing. Planet Soma remarks: “A little down at its
heels, this area is a collection of working-class suburbs with somewhat
interesting commercial districts (particularly the Portola District along
San Bruno Avenue). This was the site of the notorious Geneva Towers
housing project prior to its demolition several years ago. Big box
retailers are moving in and the fragile area may experience dramatic
changes.”
Vast, diverse, and young,
the district posts an abominably low voter turnout record, between 4
percent and 16 percent of the citywide average, even among the “activists”
of Potrero Hill. In past elections, Portola–Silver Terrace has leaned
markedly toward the conservative camp, especially in matters of crime and
homelessness. About 61 percent of its voters supported “Three Strikes and
You’re Out,” for example, compared to 31 percent in Potrero Hill.
But that was in 1994.
Many voters in 2000 have begun to sing a new tune with a more rebellious
melody. And they are cutting across class and ethnic lines to create a
new-found harmony.
Sometimes their melody
echoes those of other districts with common concerns about San Francisco’s
course of development. In Dogpatch, writes Mark S. Gordon in the Potrero
News, “Locals are left to watch 50-foot high live/work lofts faced with
corrugated iron or stucco going up next to Victorian-era wooden structures
half that height. In short, they feel Dogpatch is a neighborhood in danger
of losing its character.” In the same paper Judy Baston adds, “With
Potrero Hill ground zero for proliferation of live/work lofts and new
dot-com development, neighborhood voters are finding themselves squarely
in the middle of the hottest local issue on the November 7 ballot, the
choice between rival growth-related propositions K and L.”
Their concern spills over
to the southern neighborhoods as well. Supervisor candidate Espanola
Jackson worries that “the Third Street Light Rail Project threatens to
destroy the few Third Street merchants who have managed to endure, by
eliminating on-street parking and two lanes of traffic for the benefit of
South Bay commuters who will park at Candlestick and ride the light rail
through District 10 to downtown each day.” And members of the Visitacion
Valley Planning Alliance worry about the proposed construction of a
108,000 square foot Home Depot on the site of the old Schlage Lock
Factory, which would bring the bane of increased traffic to their
neighborhood but little to compensate them for their trouble. On the
advice of Oakland-based Urban Ecology, they have countered with a plan for
a transit village that would include small stores, high-density housing, a
library, and a stop on the in-the-works Third Street light rail.
Sounds like the same old story, doesn’t it —
neighborhoods fearing that the dot.com-powered SUV of city-anointed
development will roll right over them. But the southlands, and
particularly Bayview–Hunters Point, have added a new twist.
Conditions here brought the environmental
justice movement to San Francisco, in response to human waste that spills
from drains during storms, toxic waste that lies untreated in the old
naval shipyard, and toxic water and air that breed high levels of cancer
and asthma. For years, candidates Espanola Jackson and Sophie Maxwell have
been familiar figures at meetings all over the city, bringing the message
that their neighborhood needs help. On September 20 San Francisco Bay View
columnist and candidate Marie Harrison conducted a heavy one-on-one with
Navy representative Richard Mach over the long-smoldering fire in the
shipyard’s landfill. In a Bay View editorial Willie Ratcliff, long an
outspoken critic of Our Mayor, announced, “On one side, the Navy and the
City conspire to conceal and ignore the health hazards of one of the
nation’s filthiest Superfund sites and to consider the most superficial
cleanup sufficient. On our side, people report symptoms they’ve never
known before and worry about cancer, birth defects, and early death — and
demand that the total shipyard be cleaned up to residential standards.”
Residents feel that City Hall has
betrayed them. But they also resent what they regard as slights by other
City Hall opponents. Espanola Jackson, for one, refuses to support either
mayor-sponsored Proposition K or the grassroots slow-growth Proposition L,
“not because I don’t think we need to stop the development frenzy, but
because not one respected member of my community was invited to
participate in the drafting of either one.”
In the midst of this ferment, eleven men
and women are seeking the position of supervisor (two more, Sodonia Wilson
and Robert Chan, dropped out of the race). Some, like Hamp Banks, maintain
only a shadow presence. Some limit their campaigning to little more than
position papers, such as local activist Don Bertone and Hubert Yee,
coordinator and director of the Chinatown YMCA Summer School/Recreation
Program.
Insurance fraud investigator Dwayne
Jusino sees the answer to many of his district’s crises in “strong anchor
businesses, that will serve as magnets to draw in a healthy customer
traffic flow.” Physical therapist Jim Rodriguez, whose campaign focuses on
health concerns and especially inadequate public health facilities, has
worked out a universal healthcare program. Attorney Larry Shockey
emphasizes access: “to services for young people, to affordable housing,
to more jobs and better shopping, to better transportation, to health
care.”
Although Potrero Hill has traditionally
outvoted the other neighborhoods in this district, it is Bayview–Hunters
Point that has fielded most of the candidates. And five are African
American. J. R. Manuel, a businessman who ran for mayor last year, thinks
positively: “District 10 is a diamond in the rough and has the clear
potential of becoming one of the best places to live, work, and raise our
families.” He has become a familiar face throughout the city, for his
campaign includes coalition building with like-minded activists in other
districts.
Four African-American women round out the
list. Linda Richardson, endorsed by Our Mayor, has served in a number of
appointed city positions, most recently the Planning Commission. Unlike
her opponents, she supports Proposition K and speaks highly of her former
boss. Marie Harrison, on the other hand, makes clear her opposition to
powers in the center that, she feels, have slighted her district. She
speaks passionately of redressing environmental and economic wrongs.
So does electrician Sophie Maxwell, who
“was moved to community activism when people close to me came down with
cancer and asthmas from what I believe are the many toxic pollutants in
the southeast corner of San Francisco.” She has, she says, been “fighting
for our neighborhoods” against the Board of Supervisors and city
commissions. So has Espanola Jackson, a resident of District 10 for 52
years and an activist there for more than 30. “It’s time,” she vows, “we
said ‘no’ to City Hall, ‘no’ to downtown interests, and ‘yes’ to
neighborhoods’ self-determination,” especially as hungry developers
discover the wide open spaces to the south.