The Mission

When I think of the Mission district I see art, culture, restaurants and parks. I moved a lot throughout my life but it was always within the Mission district. Despite the gangs, homeless, and police, I felt safe running the streets as a kid. I remember me and my neighborhood friends would always go buy smoke bombs to play hide and seek, cops and robbers in the streets. It was all fun and games at first but when I got to the age of 11, it started getting serious. Me and my friend that I’ve known since the age of three witnessed our first shooting and never spoke about it after. I had no idea why I would see letters and numbers crossed out with Ex’s and why almost every block I walked seemed like there was someone trying to find out where I’m from. My friends eventually became part of it, which made me guilty by association. I didn’t feel like I had to get jumped in to be accepted because deep down I knew they had me. Although I never became part of their organization, I was still accountable to follow the rules and carry out orders. Aside from doing things I am not proud to say, I spent my teenage years roaming the Mission streets. Whether I was riding on busses or on cars, I would always like to sit by the window just to look at the Mission and its colorful murals. Art always caught my eye. When I returned to the Mission on early 2010, it wasn’t the same anymore. Gentrification was happening right in front of my eyes. I couldn’t walk around my own neighborhood or be at a park without a cop stopping me to search and ask questions. I can say that most of my childhood has been wiped off because the murals I grew up watching aren’t there anymore. The friends I grew up with are no longer around, it seemed like everything just crumbled down. I’ve become anti-social growing up in this type of environment. The Mission is changing, I am too.