A View in the City

Right now I am sitting on the front porch of my son's home in San Francisco.   Its got a great view of the elementary school, the park across the street and the corner liquor store.  I've been able to see  couple of cars creep through the four-way stop sign and the satisfaction of watching a police car pull them over.   Its been  a busy 20 minutes.  Bruce's street is a very busy street with all the shades of folks, different languages, school buses, police cars, postal trucks.  I know that for many this wouldn't be a fun place to live.  The neighborhood has a history of drug dealings, shootings and murders.   YIKES!!! and I'm on the front porch, there are hundreds of blocks like this in the city and people have to live there and they make the best of living here and for most to make it a better place.   Houses in the community are being worked on, the City is doing major remodeling and work in the park across the street, and the police department is working well with the folks who want them here.  And now there is a very dainty hummingbird in the lavender bush.   I see hope here. 

Just sitting here I have met a "Lolo" (Filipino for grandfather) going to the neighborhood school picking up his nine year old granddaughter.   He saw me sitting on the porch, said hello, and then asked the question that I knew he would ask, "Are you Filpina?" Immediately, said yes but told him I didn't speak the langauge.And as always, I begin my rehearsed dialogue, "My parents wanted me to be American and stopped speaking to me when I was four years old."    We proceeded to talk over the fence as he shared he had seven grandchildren and he takes care of three of them after school. He told me where he lived and how long he's lived in the neighborhood.  He said he liked to watch the plants in Bruce's yard bloom. He showed me his walker that his son "makes" him take when he goes outside.   Then on the way back, his granddaughter was using the walker. I yelled at them and said, "lolo needs that walker."    They stopped again, I met his granddaughter who is nine, we talked about Bruce's plants in the front yard and wished each other a "good day."   

I think that in a large city  like San Francisco folks are looking for community through something that they can share, perhaps values, cultures, race, or children.   In the Suburbs, we believe we have community but I haven't spoken to a neighbor in months and I don't know my neighbor's names.  I do watch their cars move.  The only time I am in my front yard is when my granddaughters come and play in the front rocks.  And sitting on my front porch doesn't provide me with a view of life that the city provides. The view in San Leandro should remnd me that being comfortable and picking where you can live is a privilege  A privilege not all have.