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Jane Martin, a Force of Nature

I’m beginning to write for a new local effort, sf.streetsblog.org, but tonight, the night before the big debut, I cannot log in… so I’m going to post my piece here, having failed to blog for a while…

Jane Martin, hands in soil.

Jane Martin, hands in soil.

Jane Martin is a force of nature. A longtime resident of San Francisco’s Mission District, a licensed architect, and an avid gardener, Martin is the founder of PlantSF, an informational website dedicated to reconfiguring the design and use of urban spaces, primarily sidewalks and to a lesser extent, residential streets. PlantSF started in 2004 after Martin had spent considerable effort establishing a sidewalk garden in front of her then-home on Shotwell between 17th and 18th Streets.

“Before I thought to organize [PlantSF] I just wanted to put in a garden. We have these really wide sidewalks all over town and they’re relatively underutilized. [The garden] also had the added benefit of reducing driving and parking on the sidewalk.”

Jane Martin's original garden on Shotwell between 17th and 18th.

Jane Martin's original garden on Shotwell between 17th and 18th.

This block of Shotwell was infamous for sewage backups and blackwater flooding during heavy rainfall. Only a few years ago most of the neighbors had to stockpile sandbags during winter to stop their garages from flooding with sewage. After Martin figured out how to get through the city bureaucracy, and ultimately helped create a streamlined permit process for anyone to follow (downloadable here http://www.plantsf.org/HowTo.html), many of her neighbors on the same block opened their sidewalks and put in permeable driveways and gardens. Even PG&E, just south of 18th between Shotwell and Folsom, got into the act.

View across Shotwell towards Martin's original garden on east side.

View across Shotwell towards Martin's original garden on east side.

East side Shotwell Street at 18th.

East side Shotwell Street at 18th.

Just around the corner from Shotwell on 18th, north side.

Just around the corner from Shotwell on 18th, north side.

South side of 18th Street just east of Shotwell, side of PG&E property.

South side of 18th Street just east of Shotwell, side of PG&E property.

She started out as something of a lone ranger, using her professional skills to navigate the city’s many rules and regulations, and originally thought the sidewalk-as-park would generate its own enthusiasm.

“I didn’t get very far trying to convince people that it was a nice place for a park. When I realized the connection between the depaving part of the project and getting storm water out of the sewer system and into the ground, that’s when it got more attention, especially from the City because our aging infrastructure with the sewer system is at the point of collapse in a number of areas.”

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When the Kids are United…

Been in one of those zones where I get really preoccupied watching the news come in, but finding it difficult to summarize or work up anything particularly exciting to blog about. Luckily a lot of others are keeping it going in various places (thus, I spend too much time reading other people’s blogs!… but that’s ok too)…

The Greek Uprising, or insurrection, is really inspiring. Here’s a link to a very intelligent summary/account of it from Pavlos Stavropolous who has been on the ground in the midst of it. It’s a fascinating listen, in no small part because as he describes it, it’s still at the earliest stages where thousands of people are just joining, trying to figure out what ELSE they can do than keep reproducing an unsatisfactory life day after day. For the youth of Greece, the sour joke is that they’re all stuck in a $1000-a-month job for life, the window to upward mobility having been shut after the preceding generations crawled through it. But as Stavropolous describes, the reasons for the protests, occupations, riots are as numerous as the people carrying them out. It’s very much a revolutionary situation, though as yet uncertain about where it will all go… maybe a bit like Argentina in 2001, where a huge population suddenly discovers its own power and only wants to throw out all the existing politicians and business leaders… “que se vayan todos!”…

I was very struck by the reports of 11-, 12-, and 13-year olds besieging police stations in various cities in Greece. Amazing! A week ago I joined a SF Art Institute class to evaluate final projects and the prof, Tammy Ko Robinson, started the class by putting a website up that shows images of a mass movement in South Korea this past summer (which I hadn’t known anything about). I forget the details of the demands of the half million protesters occupying Seoul, but it was an anti-privatization mobilization, and the most remarkable part of it, according to Tammy, was that it started with some 13-year-old girls sending text messages to each other and on to their wider circles, and from there it just took off.

Last week my daughter participated in an occupation of the New School for Social Research, an inspiring intervention that has caught the imagination of many people all over the place. They were mentioned yesterday during some public comments made in front of the now-defunct New College here in San Francisco as a small crowd of marchers in solidarity with the Greek Uprising paused there:

Demonstrators in solidarity with the Greek Uprising pause at New College on Valencia Street in San Francisco, Dec. 20, 2008.

Demonstrators in solidarity with the Greek Uprising pause at New College on Valencia Street in San Francisco, Dec. 20, 2008.

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Glimmers of History

Just back from seeing “Milk” at the Castro, the big biopic on first gay supervisor Harvey Milk in San Francisco. I got to San Francisco at the beginning of 1978 so I lived through a bit of the time the movie represents. Unlike every person I spoke to, I did not love Milk. I found it shallow and Hollywood, and kept thinking how much better the documentary “The Times of Harvey Milk” is. In fact, there are a few overlapping scenes and the doc is way stronger. Sean Penn is good, but didn’t blow me away. The complete lack of females in the film is really stunning (the one exception: the woman playing campaign manager Anne Kronenberg; there was also a 2-second view of the black female supervisor as she casts a vote). The possibility of exploring the awkward but real alliances made in that era between men and women would have really added a lot of depth to this. As it is portrayed, it’s practically a 100% male “movement”, but in reality this was the same time that Valencia Street had two lesbian bars, a women’s bookstore, Good Vibrations, and several other gynocentric businesses, similar if not as overwhelming as the Castro’s sudden colonization by gay men.

History is constantly distorted of course. Hollywood is particularly egregious at the rewriting of history, and while Milk does some good things, overall I felt it was a serious flattening of a very complex and interesting time in history, to its own detriment as a film. Oh well. Don’t expect much from fantasy factory in Hollywood.

Another interesting lens on history are the monuments and plaques that disappear in plain view all around. On our way back from Thanksgiving we took the north shore of Clear Lake, a place that is deeply haunted by a brutal massacre in 1850. Here’s one of two plaques commemorating it:

Bloody Island Massacre at foot of hill.

Bloody Island Massacre at foot of hill.

A close-up of the 1942 plaque

A close-up of the 1942 plaque, obviously vandalized appropriately.

In reality there wasn’t any battle, but a brutal massacre. Two former trappers who had abused a band of starving, semi-enslaved Pomo Indians, were murdered by the Indians they were tormenting. The Indians fled to what became known as Bloody Island in Clear Lake (today it is a landlocked hill along the north shore), where in April, 1850 U.S. troops came and slaughtered the entire population of the island, bayoneting dozens of women and infants (a very graphic account of this was told by Chief William Benson, who was born 12 years after the event, find it in Gray Brechin and Robert Dawson’s “Farewell, Promised Land“). The plaque above was installed in 1942 by the “Native Sons of the Golden West,” a blatant misrepresentation of what had happened. Later, the California state gov’t. had to make an effort to more accurately represent the events of 1850, so they installed this plaque out on the road:

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