Saturday, April 27, 2019

Navigation Center

I live in one of those fancy new condominium buildings in San Francisco’s SoMa neighborhood. (God, no, I don’t own the condo—I rent from the owners, who live in China and quite possibly have never set foot in it.) Next to my building, wedged between Bryant Street and the Embarcadero, is one of the lowest forms of urban land-use possible: a surface parking lot. Recently, the City of San Francisco proposed to place a Navigation Center on Seawall Lot 330, the official designation of said parking lot. The details don’t necessarily matter, but a Navigation Center can generally be thought of as a glorified homeless shelter with some additional amenities. This proposed Navigation Center would be part of the mayor’s goal to add 1,000 additional beds by 2020, and it is intended to be temporary, lasting only up to four years.

Shortly after Seawall Lot 330 was proposed as a location, the general manager of my building sent a message to all residents informing them of the proposal and an upcoming community meeting. In addition, residents were told, “The Board of Directors and Management are working through this issue and are developing a plan to engage those in charge to express the collective concerns this proposed Navigation Center's installation presents…” Residents were invited to the community meeting to voice their opposition “assuming you share these concerns”.



I thought it was rather presumptuous to assume that all residents of the building would immediately oppose the Navigation Center. Personally, yes, I have concerns about potential increases in used needles littering nearby sidewalks and about being heckled by people who may not be all there mentally. Also, the Center will absolutely remain longer than four years, because that’s how “temporary” public projects work. But at some point, you have to accept that sometimes these things come with living in an urban environment. Yes, it’s unpleasant and not ideal, but property ownership does not give you jurisdiction over anything further than your front door. Plus, any opportunity to eliminate surface parking lots is a win in my book.

Besides, a Navigation Center is going to have to go somewhere. And I would argue it needs to be placed such that it can be effectively stitched into the rest of the urban fabric, and sometimes that is next to a condo building. Banishing a Navigation Center to a location separate from the rest of the urban core completely contradicts its mission to get its users back on their feet and re-integrated into society. Such an action would only serve to “other” the users of the service. In addition, if a Navigation Center is not properly integrated with the rest of urban life, it would almost be guaranteed to become an island of crime—much in the same way that United States 1940’s and 1950’s public housing projects were.*

That being said, Seawall Lot 330 is not an ideal location for a Navigation Center from a sociological perspective. The surrounding neighborhood, which is primarily residential, contains little diversity of city uses. Integration into urban life could be challenging—but not impossible, especially as the neighborhood continues to develop—due to the lack of surrounding support services, employment opportunities, and even basic necessities like walkable grocery stores. However, that is not reason enough to halt the project. There is a tradeoff between taking the time to find the optimal location for a Navigation Center and addressing an immediate need. The City is taking the latter approach.

I wish the City had been more transparent about what, if any, site alternatives assessment was conducted and why Seawall Lot 330 was selected over other locations. An explanation of the methodology could encourage community support; or it could reveal inadequate planning and improper decision-making that should be rectified. Unfortunately, the only evidence I have seen so far suggests that adequate planning has not occurred. A resident in my building wrote that he attended one of the community meetings and asked one of the District Supervisor’s staff members whether she could think of any downsides for the project. Her alleged response was, “There is nothing bad I can think of about this project, it’s great!” If true, that statement is indicative of propaganda, delusion, a lack of critical study, or any combination of the three.

Nevertheless, incomplete planning for this particular project may not be sufficient grounds to stall the project given its (intended) temporary nature and its confrontation of an immediate need. The Homeowners’ Association (HOA) of my building, however, disagreed, claiming the “apparent level of haste by which the Navigation Center is seemingly being ushered through the approval process” had prevented “a responsible solution…that considers everyone’s concerns”. Frankly, that just seemed like grasping at straws. It’s not exactly kosher to flat out state that you don’t want a homeless shelter in your neighborhood because it’s unpleasant; so instead, folks in my building attempted to use any other potential objection, regardless of its merit, in the hopes that one of them might stick as a compelling argument.

The HOA consequently initiated discussions with legal counsel, but ultimately was advised that “legally there is little the Association, through the Board of Directors, can do to move forward with pursuing a legal or administrative challenge against the City and County of San Francisco with respect to this issue”. Well, no shit—you don’t own the land.

Despite the revelation of the futility of legal action, residents in the area established the Safe Embarcadero For All (SEFA) neighborhood coalition. This group created a GoFundMe page with the goal of raising $100,000 to cover fees in pursuit of legal action. As an SFist article later put it, “the GoFundMe was basically a personal fundraiser” for the attorney the SEFA coalition hired.

Once SEFA was formed, multiple pleas appeared attempting to manipulate residents into contributing to the fund. A resident of my building sent a message to the building asking if any resident realtors could provide estimates of the expected decline to their property values if the Navigation Center were approved. He surmised that the amount of decline would be over $100,000 per unit, so therefore, “in comparison, your donation to our legal defense fund is a bargain.” Another resident touted that he donated $10,000 to the SEFA fund and urged other residents to donate. The subject line of this message was, “Put your money where your mouth is against the Navigation Center”. Both of these messages beg the question: if residents can so liberally donate to oppose a Navigation Center, why is homelessness still as great a problem as it is?

In the weeks between the initial proposal for the Navigation Center and the Port Commission’s vote on the project, residents in my building sent dozens more messages opining on the Navigation Center. They ranged from reassuring (one resident said they were in support of the Navigation Center) to amusing (one resident said they observed loitering at another Navigation Center [*gasp*]) to infuriating (see the two examples in the previous paragraph). However, in my opinion, one message fully captured the anti-Navigation Center ethos while simultaneously demonstrating that the arguments selected to be deployed had little clout. A resident shared his communication with a San Francisco Chronicle reporter as follows:

I am not against Navigation Centers but Seawell lot 330 on the Embarcadero is the wrong location. The buildings immediately adjacent to Seawell lot 330 make up one of the most densely populated and fastest growing family neighborhoods in the city. Placing a navigation center into such a region provides a serious health and safety concern for everyone but especially for children, women, and the elderly. As a scientist, I worry about the health and safety of people and strive for solutions that mitigate risk. That region is densely populated with children, families, elderly, and tourists as it is also right next to the Embarcadero where close to 1000 cyclist spend recreational time each day, and thousands of people walk along to attend the ball games. All these individuals would be endangered in their safety and health by a navigation center placed onto the Embarcadero. Navigation centers have been associated with higher rates of crime, break-ins and the spread of infections. For example, drug use is allowed outside the navigation center so on the streets and the Embarcadero where children play, they could get punctured by needles or infected through contact with public urination, defacation or human waste which are all increased at navigation centers. There needs to be a solution for the homeless but it doesn’t make sense to put them into such a densely populated family neighborhood, whereby we endanger the health and safety of those most helpless to defend themselves namely the children and elderly. About 10,000 residents live within three blocks of the site.

Okay. There’s a lot to unpack here.

First, prefacing one of the sentences with “as a scientist” did absolutely nothing to bolster the argument. This resident seemed to think that his title of “scientist” lent greater legitimacy to his concerns, but it’s hard to make that case when no specific data, statistics, or analyses were provided.

Second, I absolutely do not buy the argument that children would face greater safety risks. My building is secured with 24-hour front desk staff and elevator key fob access. There is extremely little chance for break-ins or exposure of children to risk indoors. Outside the building, I have never once seen children alone. They do not play on the street as the message claimed; there are no parks or yards nearby. Consequently, there is nothing to suggest that a Navigation Center would deprive children of any activities they could previously do easily. Perhaps older children might venture outside alone; however, if their parents allow that, then their children will (or at least should) be astute enough to know what situations, people, and places to avoid. In short, this resident’s appeal to children’s safety seemed like a classic “think of the children” argument, because who would object to something that puts children in danger? (Realism of the argument be damned.)

Third, this resident said that he strives for solutions that mitigate risk. What are these solutions? If he had come up with legitimate alternatives, they should be presented to the District Supervisor’s staff.

Finally, this resident misspelled “Seawall”—twice—and “defecation”, neglected proper capitalization in multiple places, failed to pluralize “cyclists”, forgot the Oxford comma (okay, maybe that’s acceptable *grumble grumble*), and repeated content almost word for word mere sentences apart. I know this point is irrelevant, but I notice these things.

It’s fashionable to be socially conscious and claim to support efforts to address homelessness, particularly in the Bay Area. But people’s true colors emerge when confronted with a proposed solution that could have an impact on their life, even if minimal. Based on the merits and drawbacks of the proposed Navigation Center, as well as my own discomfort with its proposed location, I was for several weeks undecided whether I supported it. I eventually decided that I was in favor of the Navigation Center in the proposed location, strictly for the reason that it would piss off the entitled obstructionists that live in my building.

On Tuesday April 23, the San Francisco Port Commission voted unanimously to approve the Navigation Center, albeit with one compromise: the number of beds was decreased from 200 to 130.
















*That is not to say that a proper location necessarily leads to success, nor that an improper location is necessarily a death sentence for the Center. Obviously, it’s more complicated than a simple cause-effect relationship. However, I have no doubt that properly locating a Navigation Center could increase the chance of its success.