*Haight Homeless

“Spare change for powers?,” Felenie,18, begs as she sits in front of Earth Song. “Spare change for superpowers?”

Felenie has been homeless on and off since she was five years old. She was adopted at a young age by people she says where good, but decided to run away to find herself. Now she is on streets of California looking for a place to call home. Felenie could be back in Denver, Colorado, working at her old job. Instead she is going up and down the California coast, smoking cigarettes, wearing a black eye mask, holding a cardboard sign asking for change for superpowers. She is looking for to find herself. A place to call home.

Homelessness in San Francisco has been a problem for many years. Every year homeless and traveling young adults venture to the Haight-Ashbury district to experience the stories that they have been told by their parents or other adults in their lives. They spend afternoons in the Golden Gate Park hanging out with other homeless people, or sitting in-front of a shop begging for money. People pass them without even giving them a glance. Others drop a few coins in their hats or on the floor next to their cross-legged bodies.

Many of the young homeless population in the Haight Ashbury do not originate from San Francisco or the bay area. According to Chris “Lucky” Abraham’s experiences, he’s a former homeless man, and a test proctor at San Francisco State University, only about 33 percent of the homeless youth in San Francisco are from the area, while the other 66 percent are travelers.

According to a study by the nation coalition for the homeless, there are more than 1.6 million homeless young adults in the country. The number of homeless young adults in the Haight is not answered though. As many of the young adults travel the country and many who live in the city move around from neighborhood to neighborhood, it is hard for homeless outreach, shelter, and city officials to give an exact or estimated number.

There is not one single reason for young adults to runaway and be homeless. A popular belief made by many people is that the young adults are all from middle class families, who pretend to be homeless. Suzanne Zago, a counselor at the Cole Street Youth Clinic, says that many homeless young adults do leave their homes, not for fun, but to escape divorced parents, abuse, poverty, and broken families. Some young adults even get kicked out of their own homes for getting pregnant. “They aren’t all just these upper middle class kids who got bored in their lives,” Zago says.

While in the Haight, many find themselves doing meth, marijuana, and other drugs and alcohol. Living on Haight Street has made it easy for youth to get their hands on drugs and alcohol, says officer Art Howard, of the Park police station. Many end up abusing the use of substances and get mentally ill. Very few don’t make it at all.

Les Moniet, a 29 year old homeless man, moved to the Haight six years ago. He explains that getting drugs in the Haight is easy for young adults and an issue in the homeless community.

“I started using crystral meth,” Moniet says. “I only sleep about three nights a week, other four days I’m up on crystal.”

Though the Haight is a popular destination for many tourists from all over the world, it is also a popular destination for homeless young adults who travel from across the country. Young adults hop trains, catch buses, and hitch rides on their way to San Francisco and the Haight for a number of reasons, including the weather, the vast opportunity to panhandle, and in hopes to experience the love that the city is supposed to bring. Many show up in the Haight in hopes to relive the culture their parents experienced from the days of beatniks and hippies.

“Haight is an international destination due to the 60’s-70’s for all ages,” says Tes Welborn, a resident in the neighborhood. “Kids still hope for free sex and drugs, and many are escaping mistreatment at home. You can also see suburban’s here ‘homeless’ for the weekend.”

Another reason for coming to the Haight is comfort. In the Haight, homeless young adults say they feel more welcomed and taken care of by other homeless and transients than in any other district in the city.

“People on the streets out here, they actually look out for one another,” Moniet says. “If the police is messing with one of us, we have support with other homeless youth out here.”

Unity amongst each other is an important factor for the young adults. They stick up for each other when other people seem to bother them.

Several residents, shop owners, and shop clerks do not seem to have a large problem with the youth, while others complain to the police daily. Shop owners and employees report the homeless youth are very cooperative and they don’t disrupt business. The youth are responsive to shop owner demands to stay away from store fronts, and often leave the premises if asked, says Stannous Flouride, employee at Robert’s Hardware Store. Other residents find the young adults annoying and feel unsympathetic for them.

Rachel Hull, a resident of the Haight and a clerk at the Haight Street Tabacco Center, says she recently changed her views about the homeless young adults in the neighborhood.

“I used to feel bad for them,” Hull says. “I gave them food sometimes, until I realized they usually just take the food and throw it at each other.”

Several times a week, the police station will get calls from residents and shops that the homeless community is causing problems. Generally, the homeless young adults try to stay away from the police, to avoid being arrested, or beaten up. Others stay where they are and don’t mind the police. Most of the young adults say cops generally leave them alone.

Contrary to what some young adults say, the police at the Park Station are very helpful and do their best to help the homeless, Katie Reisinger, program director at the Huckleberry House, says. Each morning, two officers patrol the east side of Golden Gate Park and Haight Street, looking for homeless and getting them off the streets, Howard says. The police work with the City of San Francisco to help young adults get off the streets and find them a place to live or stay for a few nights, Howard says.

Howard, who worked the homeless beat for three years, says the city has a program called Homeward Bound, and the department often encourages young adults to take advantage of it. Homeward Bound is a program that gives homeless and runaway people, the chance to get on a bus and go back to their families. Bill Buelhman, an SF homeless outreach worker, says the program contacts family members willing to receive the runaway or homeless person, and the city pays for a one way bus ticket back home.

The hard cold floors and grasses of Golden Gate Park and Buena Vista provide the young adults a place to sleep when no one else will or can take them in. They set up camps hidden in the bushes where no one can see them. Others choose to sleep elsewhere, including churches, buses, shelters. The street sidewalks they beg on sometimes double as beds, even if they are out in plain sight.

“If you sleep in the park they’ll write you a ticket if they find you,” Daniel, a 19-year-old homeless man, says. “So I just pass out on the sidewalk because it’s public property.”

The City of San Francisco offers many programs and shelters for homeless youth to go into. In the Haight Ashbury district, the Larkin Street Youth Services referral center on Haight Street, refer homeless youth to shelters and other services in the city. The Huckleberry House, on Page Street, serves as a temporary community home for runaway teens, and offers them counseling, therapy, shelter, food, and community activities. Though the house mostly caters to runaway youth from the bay area, Reisinger says, they house about 25 traveling youth each year.

The Homeless Youth Alliance, (HYA), on the corner of Haight and Cole, takes in young adults for free meals, showers, bathroom use, counseling, and other basic needs they may want. On any given day, they could have 80 young adults using their services, Buelhman, who works closely with the center, says. HYA also provides needle exchanges every Wednesday, and a neighborhood clean-up on the last Friday of each month, when staff, young adults, and members of the community members clean the streets of Haight, and parts of Golden Gate Park.

On Friday nights, the youth can go to the Page Street Center, on Lower Haight, and enjoy a free meal, hangout, and watch a movie, Eric Bergquist, Page Street Center director, says. Bergquist started working at the center 10 years ago. With the help of former and current homeless young adults, he runs a safe environment for them to hang relax for a few hours and make friends.

“We consistently give them a movie,” Bergquist says. “ We want to give them a place where they feel welcome and where they feel valued.”

Most services offer an open door policy, which allows any young adult in who seeks help, to show up and receive the proper care they require. Services, though, are limited and many places are understaffed and affected by the budget cuts.

“It’s not always enough,” Buehlman says. “But we want to show them (young homeless) that people can change. That it doesn’t have to be this way.”

Not all young adults, however, take the services offered to them by the shelters, and youth organizations. Instead, many choose the stay on the streets, and help themselves to what the people can offer. They choose to rebel against authority and ingenuity, Lucky says.

Though life on the streets is may seem tough, many young adults enjoy being out and panhandling.

“It’s fun and exciting,” Lady, 19, from Missouri, says. Lady has been traveling the country for the last two years and is currently with her friend Blame, 23, from New Jersey. Blame has been on the streets for 8 years.

Being out on the streets allows the young adults to be creative and free. Some people feel their creativity, spirituality, and lifestyle is being stifled from where they come from, Lucky says. On the streets, the young adults can express themselves and learn in, what they feel is, care free environment.

“I like to learn from life experiences,” Lady says.

The new generations of homeless young adults are like the new generation of hobos, Zago says.

“That tradition is being carried on,” Zago says. “These kids are it. They have dreams.”

The young adults often stick together as a community and travel with each other. They make new friends and hang out with old friends. They don’t care what other people think and just want to live life without responsibilities. When help is available, many will take it, and others will not. And when have done everything they thought of doing, they find new ways to reinvent themselves.

“We live in a community that will never fail,” Felenie says. “When you have nothing other than yourself, you can figure out you. There’s no mask. There’s no anything else.”

{*indicates a story for Reporting or Literary Journalism }

*A Moment of Zen

*CLANKCLANKCLANKCLANK*…. *Clankclankclank.* The sounds of early commuters are drowned by the sound of a bell persistently being hit on by a very silent monk walking down each hallway to wake everyone up. It’s only six in the morning. The only lighting outside is coming from street lamps and the stars. The hall is illuminated though. Pairs of shoes are neatly placed on the hardwood floor in front or right next to every door. They are facing either outward or toward the middle of the hallway. They rarely ever point toward the doors.

Only a few minutes pass when the sound of the Han, a wooden block, softly echoes throughout the building. *CLAP*… the sound reverberates around. A minute passes. *CLAP*. After seven minutes, a roll down of repetitive hammering wooden clicks fills the Zen Center.   The sounds of footsteps are scattered all over, making their way down to the basement, into the Zendo, the meditation room. The sound of shoes treading the floor stops at the mat next to the room. Pairs and pairs of bare feet walk into the Zendo. One by one, Zen practitioners and monks step into the Zendo and find the farthest available cushion. They bow to their cushion, then to each other. Everyone takes a seat and swivel clockwise to face the wall. *Ding! Ding! Ding!* Three sharp chimes signal the beginning of Sazen, the period of meditation. For forty minutes, the only sounds heard are those of water running through the pipes, the breath of a person, and the tires and engines of cars passing by the center. The only thing they see is a blank wall in front of them, slowly getting lighter as the sun comes up. The only thing they feel is their hands pressed against their abdomen, and the cushions they are sitting on.

It’s now 7:10 in the morning. Still no one has said much verbally. The only words come from little children or confused guests. Everyone in the Zendo grabs their footwear and heads up to the Buddha Hall. One by one, they take off their shoes again, and leave them side by side by side outside of the entrance to the Buddha Hall. One by one they pick up a cushion, step onto the middle of the straw mat and bow to the statue of Buddha in front of the room. Then, one step to the side, turn, and finding a place to sit. Everyone sets their cushion down on the mat, then faces forward. *Ding!* A small cup shaped bell is rung. Everyone in the room takes a bow. The remains of the echo from the bell, the sounds of robes ruffling, the swoosh and roars of vehicles passing by, and the occasional chirping of a bird or two, are the only sounds heard within the room. Everyone gets up. *Ding!* Once again, the sounds of clothing ruffling fills the room as everyone gets on the floor and bows. Seven more times they do this. *Ding ding ding!*

The final ringing of the bell signals everyone to take their seats. Shogan, the Chant leader for the day, recites a verse out of a book in a very monotonic tone.

“We we thank the Buddha for this great day!”

The next forty minutes of the service is spent reciting the many names of the Buddha and Bodhisattvas, their appreciation for knowledge, and hope for the well being of others. Once over, they silently put away their cushions and head over to the basement for breakfast.

One by one, monks, residents, and guests enter the Zendo. Turn left, bow. Turn right. In their hands lie a set of 3 plastic bowls, topped with a set of chopsticks and a single spoon.  They are wrapped together in a giant napkin neatly and precisely tied at the very top. The chopsticks and spoons, as a set alone, are wrapped in a separate napkin. One by one they proceed to walk around the zendo until reaching upon the last available cushion.  Before they sit down, they turn clockwise, toward the cushion, and bow to it. Once again, they turn clockwise and bow away from their cushion before finally sitting down.  Silently they wait in a half or full lotus position, for the head monk to initiate the ceremony. Resident Renee Meiffren stands in the far left corner of the long side of the Zendo.

Ding! Meiffren quickly runs along the side wooden bench, wiping it clean with a moist rag. Silently, she walks out of the Zendo. Everyone takes their set of dish and silverware and sets them in front of their bodies. Meticulously, they unwrap the larger napkin, revealing three bowls. They fold the napkin on the wooden surface, as to not let it drape over the ledge. With as little noise as possible, the smaller bowls are removed and placed on the napkins, left to right, largest to smallest.

Meiffren returns to the room, with a small kettle filled with bland rice porridge. She pours the porridge into the big bowls. After every pour, each person raises their bowl and bows to thank her. Next, the Miso soup is served in the medium bowl, followed by the tofu in the smaller bowl. A chime is rung. Everyone picks up their bowl of porridge, and slowly eat it little by little, but not all of it, each at their own pace and rhythm. They move on to the soup, taking just a few small sips. The tofu is next. Silently, the chopsticks are picked up in no distinctive pattern, as people eat the tofu. Individually, the process is completed in that order, until each bowl is cleaned from any left-over food bits. After the bowls are cleaned, everyone wraps their bowls back into their napkin wrap and sit silently for a few more minutes. Ding!

***

Breakfast is over. The residents and guests of the Zen center have had time to take a quick shower and clean up before continuing on with their day. The Buddha hall, starts getting filled with people who await the free weekly lecture. Abbot Paul Haller enters the Buddha Hall and sits on a small sitting stool located in the center of the room.

“I’d like to tell you the story of a woman,” Haller says in a gentle, caring voice, “who had a baby boy that died not long after. She was distraught. She went to the Buddha and asked for his help.”

Not knowing where this was going, everyone stayed attentive.

“She asked the Buddha to help her bring her son back to life,” Haller continued. “The Buddha replied: find a household who has not grieved or lost a loved one, to give you mustard seed, and bring it back and I will help you.”

Haller continued his story, explaining that the woman found no such household.

“Now what is the moral of the story?” he asks. “The point of this story is that she waited for something, and what you got wasn’t what you were waiting for. And that’s what priesthood is all about.”

***

The Buddha Hall is quickly filled. Guests take up the majority of the folded seats and benches that surround the straw mat floor. The Zen residents and participants lay out their cushions on the straw mat and stand next to them until the signal is given to sit down.

Abbot Paul Haller enters the Buddha Hall, with two other officiating preceptor priests. Finally, the three monks, David Haye, Steven Davidowitz, and Trevor Maloney enter the Buddha Hall, wearing long grey robes. Their heads are shaved, except for a small square piece in the back.

*DONG!* The first bell goes off, and everyone in the assembly take a full bow, all the way to the floor. Immediately but slowly, they stand back up. *DONG!* The second bell goes off. They bow again and stand back up. Another seven rings and seven bows. *DONG DONG DONG!* The final three bells signal everyone to take their seats.

“Welcome everyone to this wonderful event,” Haller addresses to everyone in the room. “Let us pay homage to all Buddhas in the ten directions, homage to the complete dharma in the 10 directions, to the endless sangha, to the first teacher, to the single being succession.”

Everyone is silent. Only Haller’s voice fills the room.

“Let us recite the names of Buddha,” Haller instructs the assembly in his gentle but vibrant voice.

“Vairochana Buddha, Pure Dharmakaya Lochana Buddha, complete Sambhogakaya Shakyamuni Buddha…” the whole assembly chants in a monotonic tone.

The room, once again, goes silent.

“To come here today to be ordained as disciples of Buddha, this certainly is possible. As Buddha’s disciples you have the opportunity to receive the teachings transmitted by practicing with Buddha through the ancestors.”

Lucy Xiao, assistant to the abbots, stands on the right end of the table.

Haller stands behind Haye, kneeling. As Haye lowers his head, Xiao hands Haller a razor. Haller inches a razor to the small patch of hair.

“This last piece of hair is called the Shura. Only a Buddha can cut it off. Now I will now cut it off. Will you allow me to cut it off?”

“Yes,” responds Haye in confidence.

Haller rubs some shaving cream on and around the block of hair. Gently, he shaves off the remaining hairs on Haye’s head. He wipes off the excess hair and shaving cream with a cloth, revealing a completely bald head. Davidowitz and Maloney follow. No one in the assembly claps. They remain seated, watching silently.

Haller commands Haye, to step forward. As he waves a piece of paper containing Haye’s new name. ”Your name is Shundo Ginen: swiftly flowing wave,” he tells Haye in a poetic tone.

The newly ordained priests return to their spots in-front of the abbots; Haller receives a wrapped package from Xiao. He hovers the white package over the smoke of a burning incense stick. Haye stands from his spot, bows to Buddha then bows to Haller. He receives his package, and wraps it, revealing a black robe.  Before he sits back down, he takes a small bow toward the preceptors. He waits for Davidowitz and Maloney to receive their robes. Together, Haye, Davidowitz, and Maloney bow their heads and raise their arms in the air, robes in hand, and chant.

“Oh Bodhisattvas, please concentrate your hearts on me. I am Buddha’s disciple, and receive this robe. I will wear this robe of Buddha with the mind and body of its sacred meaning.”

Another preceptor, Dairyu Michael Wenger rises from the table and stand behind the new priests. With incents in hand, they circle their hands around the priests head, making a faint halo of smoke. Xioa hands Haller a small cup with water. Wenger dips his fingers into the water and splashes it on Haye’s, Davidowitz’s, and Maloney’s heads. The water, a spiritual cleanser, drips down the new priests’ scalps.

“From now on, even after realizing Buddha hood, will you continue this faithful practice?” Haller asks the three men.

“Yes I will!” the three priests respond in unison.

The preceptors read the Buddha’s three refuges, three pure concepts, and ten grave precepts. Haye, Davidowitz, and Maloney verbally accept the offerings.

“Yes I will.”

“From now on enlightenment is your teacher,” says Haller. “Buddha is your teacher. All being is your teacher.”

The assembly closes the ceremony with two more chants. Ding! Everyone bows at the tone of the bell. Ding! The noise of clothes ruffling can be heard as the assembly bows again. Ding! The final bow is taken and Haye, Davidowitz, and Maloney, the new priests, exit the Buddha hall, and their friends and families behind them.

###

*Tapping into Success

Tap, tapitty clunk tap tap. Tap-tap… tap-tap… tap-tap. The sounds of cars driving on Market Street, or the crowds of people walking by and chatting cannot drown the sound of Edward Jackson’s tap dance shoes clicking on his small dance floor nor the melody of the funk music coming out of the only speaker he has.

The sun is out, with very few clouds in the sky. Cool breezes flow through the air. It’s still cold enough to wear a sweater but not cold enough to be freezing. It’s a Friday afternoon. School has just gotten out for students in the K-12 school system, and many kids are walking around Westfield Mall and Market Street to spend time together. The line to get on the next cable car is about 50 people long and even more people are buying tickets at the trolley booth just yards away from where the line is.

Meanwhile, Jackson, 41 is dancing his heart out. He’s wear his gray and beige colored trilby hat. A plain white tee is under a purple-with-blue-stripes button up tee shirt. He completes the day’s ensemble with black pants, right pant leg rolled up to his knees. His tap shoes are black, as most tap shoes are. They are worn out at the rims where the metal plates meet the sole. He has two more pieces to the ensemble that he has already removed: a scarf and a black leather jacket. Only a few songs after starting his regular performance, the first bead of sweat starts rolling down his face. It won’t take much longer for sweat to start dripping to the ground. The ever-changing crowd watches him, as he continuously taps from one song to another… to another. He only breaks for a minute or two before he starts with the music and dance. Sometimes he breaks for only a few seconds. When one song ends, a round of applause echoes from virtually every direction. He continues with this routine for three to four hours before taking a big break.

Many times throughout the day, people from the crowd walk up to Jackson, congratulating him on his energy and telling him how much she wishes she could dance like him. Today, a mother with her two daughters, around the ages of 5 and 7, are doing some shopping in the area. They take a break and watch Jackson dance. Both girls, astonished by Jackson’s moves, start moving their little feet on the ground, trying to mimic him. Jackson notices, and with a smile of joy, taps his way toward them, and with one spin into their direction, he is slightly crouches down to their height. A-tap a-tap. He taps one foot the other less than a second later. A dap a dap. The sounds of the small girls’ feet trying to mimic him, cannot be heard but they are there. A-tap a-tap a-tap. The girls once again mimic him, a dap a dap a dap. The mother just stands there encouraging the girls to try their best. The girls are happy.

“I love the interaction with everyday people,” Jackson says. “I love seeing people happy.”

Minutes into the mid-afternoon, Jackson is joined on the open dance floor by his two of his friends, Tyler Knowlin and Mustafa. As Jackson takes a small break and sits under the shade of the plant pot and light post over his head, Knowlin and Mustafa take turns scraping and tapping on the concrete. Jackson jumps in. The three of them are taking turns dancing and showing off. For the next few songs, they compete with each other for the crowd’s attention. Jackson begins the competition. He finds an upbeat, funky song, such as James Brown’s “Get Up offa That Thing.” Again, he starts tapping on his dance board, getting on the tip of his toes, then returns to flat ground, and slides off his dance floor, and starts tapping on the pavement for sharper clicking sound.

Next Tyler takes over, and begins his set of improvised moves. He taps his foot against the light pole closest to the dance floor. The hood from of his sweater flaps up and down as he spins around.

“I’ve seen that one,” Jackson says jokingly, referring to the Tyler’s last combination of moves.

“Oh you have?” Tyler jokes back.

For the rest of day, the three of them take turns dancing for the crowd.

Jackson says he likes to differentiate himself and his friends from other street performers. He likes his audience to have a good time, and likes to interact with them during his breaks.

“This is a way to relate to people and be myself!” he exclaims.

Before taking the streets with dance, Jackson worked the retail and restaurant life before jiving into his late blooming dancing career. Edward left the retail and restaurant business after growing tired of working for others.

“I prefer to work independently,” he says.

He says he doesn’t like having signs asking people for money. He only has a small photo box, covered with a colorful patterned cloth. He likes the feel of people willingly going up to his box and dropping a few coins or dollars.

“I’m not a rich person,” he says. “This is my job. I don’t make much but I get by.”

The sun is now ready to set. The crowd is starting to die down. Jackson is starting to tire from his long day at work. He tries hard to hide exhausted body. His newly wedded wife, Yeye Jackson, emerges from the crowd from her day at work. Jackson is dancing his last songs of the day. Yeye gracefully dances her own style. She’s dancing the same way she did when they first met a few years ago in that same location during one of his shows.

“I just pointed to her ,” Jackson says, “ and said ‘hey you, come here.’ And the rest is history.”

As Jackson takes off his tap shoes and trades them for his street shoes, he keeps his iPod playing. Yeye, in high heels, continues to dance. Jackson and the crowd cheer her on. Jackson puts on his button up shirt, loosely ties a tie around his neck and puts on a dress coat. After choosing a slow pop ballad, he struts away from his sound system, toward Yeye. He embraces Yeye with his right arm around her waist, left arm up, holder her hand in almost a ballroom dance position. Still in the mood of the music playing, Edward and Yeye dance passionately in a slow blues like tempo, moving side to side, and back and forth. They dance for a few songs like no one else is there. The day is over. Jackson packs up his small sound system and puts them in his small folding cart. He and his wife, leave his stage, just a bit quieter than before.
###

*Bound Together bookstore

It’s Thursday, around 7 p.m., and most of the shops on Haight Street are making their final sales before they close for the night. Travelers, tourists and locals wander the streets in search of a good place to sit down, relax, and eat after a good day of walking and shopping. Meanwhile, Bound Together Anarchist Bookstore stays open for another half hour before the old cash register closes. The front door is open, copies of a selected essay or book excerpt written by Noam Chomsky or Howard Zinn, on anarchism, capitalism, or animal liberation, are stacked at the front desk for people to read as they walk in. It’s now 7:30, and the register closes. Volunteers start setting up for the store’s weekly discussion group, and people keep filing in, one by one, grabbing this week’s essay or excerpt. Finally, it’s 8 p.m. and the door is ready to close. Anywhere from four to 15 people show up. It is now time to discuss this week’s reading.

Bound Together is truly a bookstore like no other. Though its collection of books and other literary material cover all types of genres, from fiction to science to history and politics, there’s one thing that sets this bookstore from others in the area: Anarchism. Bound Together Collective Bookstore, is the only anarchist bookstore in the Bay Area and one the few remaining in the country. Its history has kept them strong, their books and philosophies keep customers coming back for more, and their projects keep the public who are not part of their collective interested.

Bound Together Bookstore opened in 1976 by a group of San Francisco neighbors who believed in the anarchist philosophy and wanted to promote their ideas through literature. Many bookstores, then, did not carry much anarchist literature, if any. The group decided to create a section dedicated to the anarchist philosophies and literature.

“In the late 70s when I got involved a lot of political books that you saw in the shelves were Maoist, Marxist. They just sat there,” says Tom Alder, one of the volunteers and owners. “At that time it was hard to go into a place and find a good selection of anarchist literature.”

They opened their first Anarchist bookstore on Hayes Street. The collective moved the store to their current location seven years later, in 1983, after their first building had been sold. Since then, Bound Together has been on 1369 Haight Street, next to the DeAvila School.

The store is under the management of a group of anarchists who call themselves the Bound Together Anarchist Collective. Unlike other bookstores, independent or corporate, all Bound Together employees are volunteers who dedicate a few hours each week and do not get paid. The volunteers of Bound Together come from different age groups, backgrounds and careers but all share their passion for anarchism, says Slava Osowska. Most of the volunteers hold other full time jobs, including a full time high school student, a Charles Schwab employee, a bike messenger, coffee shop employees, and retired bookstore clerks. To keep the store up and running, they still have to sell their books and other material, but their philosophies of no government still lay in the way the store is operated and the way the live their own lives.

“The anarchist idea is not lost,” says Jean Pauline. At 87 years old, she is Bound Together’s oldest volunteer.

Bound Together is known nationally and internationally. Tourists from all over the world visiting San Francisco try to Bound Together a stop on their list. It is mentioned in California and Bay Area tour guides and tour books in many different languages. Visitors unaware of the store are sometimes shocked and surprised, says Osowska.

The shelves on the wall of the 900 square-foot store are filled with books on pirates and buccaneers, women’s studies, books and essays by renowned anarchist Noam Chomsky, and political scientist Howard Zinn, and copies of Upton Sinclair’s “The Jungle”. On certain occasions, the two window displays in the front is decorated with books and literature dealing with current issues, most recently literature on the Palestinian-Israeli conflict. Shirts, posters on anarchist book fairs, leaders, and events from around the world, and an East Germany flag, decorate the rest of the walls where the shelves end.

Outside the bookstore, on the wall, adjacent to the store, lies a mural of American anarchists, including Emma Goldman, Brad Will, and the Parsons. Beneath the anarchist portrait is a quote painted in white and red “History remembers 2 kinds of people: those who murder and those who fight back.” The mural was painted by artist Susan Greene for the purpose of remembering American anarchists of the past.

When people step into Bound Together they expect to find books on anarchism, but many times people also look for mainstream literature and ask for other books of interests including cookbooks, art books, magazines and history books, says Alder.

People often ask for The Anarchist Cookbook, which Bound Together does not sell but has one copy for people to look at. When people ask why the store doesn’t carry the book the collective members says: it’s a really bad example of anarchism.

They carry a book with a similar name, called An Anarchist Cookbook, published by CrimethInc., which has a collection of less radical and less dangers weapons and ideas, such as pie throwing, and stenciling.

“People question our literature, but generally the questions are very friendly,” says Craig Hudson, 16, the store’s youngest volunteer.

The store is also known for carrying controversial literature, including the Northern American Man Boy Love Association magazine, as well as books on atheism and agnosticism. Such literature created hatred and criticism toward the store by several religious and other radical groups, says Alder.

“People who are really intense American nationalists come in and see all their institutions insulted and get angry,” says Alder.

Over the years the store has received several complaints from people who don’t believe in their philosophy and have threatened to boycott the store if certain literature, such as the NAMBLA magazine and gay erotica, was not removed from the premises.

“Rather than ask why we carry it [NAMBLA] or read the mission statement of it we get condemned,” says Jamie, another volunteer at the store.

People disagreeing with their collection of literature or their views, sometimes go in and question the collective’s motives. Some angry or confused people will even go into the store and “rant” against the collective and store.

“Sometimes people come in here who want to argue a point,” says volunteer Joey Paxman. “They’ll come in and ask for a specific book they know we do not carry, and then rant on why anarchism would never work and how it’s not practical.”

Hatred toward Bound Together turned into violence when a group of radical skinheads attempted to burn the store during a Without Borders conference in 1989, says Alder. The group of skinheads managed to pour gasoline through the door of the store and burned part of it before Alder hurried from the back of the store to put it out.

The threats and complaints have not disheartened the collective nor the frequent visitors and tourists.

Despite the controversial philosophies of the collective and some their controversial literature and propaganda, the collective and store are well liked.

“I totally disagree with practically everything they believe in form the premise to the execution but as people they are perfectly nice people,” says Bruce Lyall, owner of Recycled Records, next door neighbor to Bound Together.

Bound Together has become a popular attraction in the Haight, tourists from all over as well as locals pay a visit to the hidden store.

“We get a lot of European tourist and crusty punk types,” says Osowska. “About half the people are tourist, about a third identifies themselves as anarchists and the rest are people who are just curious.”

According to the collective and some customers, the curiosity sparks around a person’s own interest in anarchy, or his or her connection to the anarchy beliefs.

“There are many kinds of anarchism,” says Olmo, a tourist from New York who was visiting with his friend Erika, “I don’t want to have a master or a god or someone to tell me what to do. And that’s why I believe and came into the store.”

Other tourists and customers are glad the store exists simply for the reason of having a different view of reality in the neighborhood.

“It’s appealing that it’s explicitly anarchist,” frequent customer Finn Finneran says. “This is the only [anarchist] bookstore I’m aware of. It’s a stop in point.”

Bound Together and the associated collective have several public events throughout the year. Once in a while, they show movies on a small projector screen on their back wall. When the antique cash register closes for the night each Thursday, members of the collective gather in the bookstore along with anyone who wishes to join them for the evening, to read and discuss anarchist literature and other topics including capitalism, and elections. The collective also participates in other discussions with other anarchist groups such as the Alexander Berkman Social Club.

“One of the roles of the discussion group is to preserve and bring out this neglected knowledge to the attention of others,” says Andrej Grubacic, an author and volunteer.

Each year, in March, the collective puts on the Bay Area Anarchist Book Fair in Golden Gate Park at the County Fair building. The two-day fair attracts thousands of people. In addition to promoting their ideas, their bookstore, and their books, the collective gets authors and panelists to speak at the fair. Another project that the Bound Together collectives started is the Prisoners Literature Project. The project is aimed at sending books to prisoners around the country, for free. Like the rest of Bound Together’s events and projects, the Prisoner Literature Project is volunteer-run.

The Bound Together collective will continue to put on events, educate others on anarchy, and provide a piece of history to San Francisco. It is a place to read and talk about global issues. Working together as a collective allows them to run the store collectively, and not worry about formal management. The store has worked that way for years and it has been successful.

“It seems that when you put anarchist principles in your life every day it just seems to work,” says Jamie.

Bound Together will continue to educate others on anarchism and keep the philosophies of anarchism alive as a collective and through their literature.

“I think it’s really important to support these types of institutions,” says Finneran.

Though anarchism is not practiced much in the United States, Bound Together volunteers feel it is important to keep the traditions alive.

“I know anarchism is a reality in this world,” says Pauline. “It’s not very big but it exists.”

###