Improving Your Local Quality of Life
Sometimes just opening the dialogue will get the ball rolling on finding a solution. At least, that’s my hope, because in a lengthy discussion with my partner about how to improve local quality of life, we were only able to pinpoint one possible solution that could be effective. I’ll get to that proposed solution shortly.
A series of strange incidents inspired the discussion because Zac and I have a history of running into quality of life concerns in San Francisco. We pretty much fled our old neighborhood called SoMa because of discarded needles littering the sidewalks, petty crime and aggressive homeless people who made walking around the neighborhood more hassle than necessary. Once we settled in greener pastures, we thought we left quality of issues behind for the most part.
About a ten minute walk from my apartment is the gayest intersection in the world, 18th and Castro. The New York Times featured a picture of this intersection on their website’s front page today, and in a related article they talked about how the rising cost of living in the Castro neighborhood has diluted the gay presence and brought in more families. Personal feelings aside of how important I think it is to preserve gay enclaves, there are some serious quality of life concerns that anyone living in that neighborhood should address.
On my way to the bank, I stopped at the Starbucks at 18th and Castro for a cup of tea. Really, it felt more like an emergency room than a Starbucks. There was a local homeless man at the condiments stand laying out his money all over the place. Lots of people in the neighborhood help out this guy because he has a serious neurological disorder that limits his mobility and speech. He asked me to pile up his money and roll it up for him because he didn’t have the ability to do it himself. I accommodated his request, sent him on his way and discovered that my hands were wet with who knows what, so I wait in line for the bathroom to wash my hands. It gets worse.
The guy ahead of me in line tells me that someone has been in the bathroom for a while, that some guy came by and knocked on the door, and that the person in the bathroom let him in, but then came back out shortly after. He was still waiting for the person originally in the bathroom to come out.
Neither of us had any idea of what was going on in that bathroom or what to expect. Honestly, I didn’t care; I just wanted to wash my hands. We get an employee to come by and fish out whoever is in the bathroom. It was like a living nightmare when the bathroom door finally opens.
A woman, probably not older than 20 years old, emerges from the Starbucks bathroom soaking wet, flush red and obviously in the middle of a drug high. She can barely stand up, she’s dripping water all over the floor, and she shoots a dazed stare at the guy ahead of me in line as she hands him the dripping wet bathroom key. An employee politely informs her, ‘œWe’re going to have to ask you to leave now.’
Eventually I did get to wash my hands, but not my memory of the event. I got another good look at her and her friends squatting by the door, wearily leaning on each other. It’s no exaggeration to say that they all looked ravaged.
I walked away from that experience asking, ‘œWhy should anyone suffer?’ I wasn’t talking about me. I knew that I once finished running my errand, I’d be back home, where it’s safe, where I have evidence that I have much of which to be grateful. I’m not trying to be hokey, but really, my horrible Starbucks experience and memory of that young woman showed me an instance of how we all suffer when one person suffers so visibly.
I have no political agenda in telling this story, and in fact, I have no faith in politics to do anything to help improve quality of life. Our mayor Gavin Newsom is running for reelection, and in his State of the City address that he made yesterday, he announced, “I believe this city is better off than it was four years ago.’
In response to him I say, ‘œHave you too been hitting the crack pipe Mr. Mayor? How do you step outside City Hall and miss the fact that it’s swarmed with homeless people? Please, look again.’
If anything, I have an economic and human rights agenda in this post. The San Francisco Chronicle‘s article about the Mayor’s address concludes with an alternate point of view that provides a dose of reality:
‘˜There’s just a ton of people who are living in substandard conditions and paying market-rate rents to do so,’ said Tom Jackson, director of organizing for Coleman Advocates for Youth, which lobbies City Hall on housing and family issues. ‘˜Some families are leaving because they’re choosing to leave, and some are being forced out.’
‘˜So,’ he said, ‘˜I guess it depends on who you’re asking whether San Francisco is better off today than four years ago.’
So I ask, exactly what can you do to improve local quality of life besides complain about it? The best Zac and I could come up with is holding companies to a higher standard. Do some old fashioned letter writing to a company and tell them why you won’t patron their business until they implement practices that guarantee suitable conditions for their customers and community. Basically, hit them in the wallet where it hurts.
But is that it? Does it solely take putting revenue in jeopardy for businesses in a community to actually do something about improving quality of life, or can more be done? I think residents and businesses obviously have more options, but which ones actually work?
What organized plans can we make that are more effective than practices in place right now? I mean, take a look around at your community. Are your politicians, schools, shelters and community organizations doing all they can to maintain an acceptable quality of life? What more do we need to do?
This is an area where government regulation can help. For example, a major reason why housing is so expensive to buy (and by extension to rent) is because of zoning ordinances. When a developer can be given a zoning variance in exchange for making a certain number or percentage of deeded affordable housing, this makes the community life’s better.
Deeded affordable means that it has to sell at a price that is affordable (by a certain formula) to someone at 80% or 60% of the area median income. It is deeded that way because even when that person sells the property, they can only sell it for what is *then* 80% or 60% AMA affordable. This definitely incentivizes building affordable housing, without costing the community a dime other than realizing that occasionally, there will be a multi-family home or a home with slightly less yard in their neighborhood.
There are also plenty of fantastic non-profits out there doing great work for people’s quality of life. I’m from the East Coast so I don’t know a lot about SF but I have been impressed over here with some of the innovative ideas.