By Lauren Thomas
It is with a heavy heart that I have come to the conclusion that we should probably start gentrifying the Tenderloin sometime soon here.
I’ll be frank: gentrifying the Tenderloin was no one’s first choice. But here’s the deal: we gentrified SOMA. We gentrified the Haight. We gentrified the shit out of the Mission. And it’s time to be realistic — we’re simply running out of places in which to build pressed-juice shops, boutique candle stores and cat cafes.
Sure, the Tenderloin may be a little rough around the edges right now. But with a few years of peddling boar’s-bristle moustache brushes and bacon-infused artisan jams, we might just be able to turn it into a place that any white techie would be proud to call home.
I’ll be the first to admit that, yeah, the neighborhood’s a bit “gritty” right now. But picture the Tenderloin as it could be: just like everywhere else in San Francisco.
I know there are many other neighborhoods we all wish we could just gentrify instead — a charming little low-income area in Seattle, perhaps, or an immigrant neighborhood in New York City that’s “brimming with local color.” But I just don’t see any way around it: we’ve got to bite the bullet and start renovating and raising rents until the people who’ve been in the Tenderloin for decades are finally forced out.
I’ll be the first to admit that, yeah, the neighborhood’s a bit “gritty” right now. But picture the Tenderloin as it could be: just like everywhere else in San Francisco.
Imagine a cute little microbrewery on the corner of Turk and Hyde, something with an irreverent pun-based name. Or overpriced fusion restaurants on every block. Or shops that sell nothing but those wooden bowls that still kind of look like trees.
Picture the buildings of the Tenderloin torn down, then rebuilt with expansive murals celebrating the native people who used to live on this very land, the Ohlone who called the coast their home before they were displaced by missionaries and gold prospectors — the original gentrifiers. Murals to keep the neighborhood’s new residents grounded as they roam the streets with their loose-knit sweaters and stainless-steel water bottles.
With enough effort from our city’s leading coders and social media managers, the Tenderloin could become the bustling haven for trendy twentysomethings that so many other neighborhoods in San Francisco already are. The work won’t be easy, but the result is all but inevitable.
And, hey, at least it’s not Sacramento.
