Alamo Square (2017-2018)
When born I was adopted into a white family and my skin is black and most of my adult life has been spent finding me. Moving to San Francisco I found myself as a black man not through communities that reflect, but through lack thereof. Everything was (or is becoming increasingly) white and I found my identity through conversations of a city that once was. Eventually I moved into an aging artists’ Victorian near Alamo Square where the building holds a history of black families relocated due to years of redlining and gentrification. Though waking up in such beauty is healing I feel unwelcome walking out the door as if I know as much as the woman watching me in the Tesla that this isn’t my true home.
