by Michael Inman
San Francisco calls itself a “Sanctuary City.” In City Hall, that word is a shield. But on the corners of Sixth and Mission streets, or in the shadows of Dore Alley, “sanctuary” has a much darker meaning. If you ask the people living on the pavement, they’ll tell you the truth: San Francisco isn’t a sanctuary; it’s a city of enforcers.
The Refugees We Ignore
The biggest mistake we make is assuming everyone on the street is there by choice. I’ve seen the real face of homelessness: domestic refugees. These are daughters fleeing molesting fathers and sons running from violent homes. They came here because “sanctuary” promised safety their own families wouldn’t provide. Instead, they are met with a “rainbow of vests” designed to make them disappear.
The Vested Ambassadors
If you walk through the Tenderloin, you’ll see them: the purple, green and white vests. But these aren’t social workers; they are private armies hired by business improvement and community benefit districts. I recently witnessed a bright-color vested ambassador unchain a man’s electric wheelchair. That chair was his legs. They threw it toward the trash while he watched, helpless. When did “cleaning the streets” become “stripping the disabled of their movement?”
The Blade at Dore Alley
At Dore Alley off Brannan Street, I watched an alliance of the San Francisco Police Department, California Highway Patrol and San Francisco Public Works ignore every “bag and tag” law. I watched an officer approach a man’s tent—his only shelter—pull out a knife, and slash it open. This wasn’t an inspection; it was an assault. If a man with a badge pulls a blade on your home, are you in a sanctuary city or a police state?
Sixth Street: When the Hunter Arrives
The mask slipped for me personally on Sixth Street. After an illegal left turn, I was pulled over. As I sat there, I saw the officer in my blind spot clicking his holster, preparing to draw his weapon. I felt the threat of death over a traffic ticket. I had to call 911 on the police while they stood at my window just to ensure I would survive the encounter.
The Bone-Deep Truth
San Francisco cannot have it both ways. You cannot be a sanctuary while you fund private contractors to harass the vulnerable, allow officers to slash tents with knives, and treat traffic stops like combat zones. We don’t need more “ambassadors” in vests. We need a city that honors the word “sanctuary.” Until then, the question mark after the title is the most honest thing about this city.
