Thanks to the kindness of an old friend–and to airbnb–I was able to travel to San Francisco and stay in the Castro district during the week of Pride this year. To be in such a historical place, only a few buildings away from where Harvey Milk had his shop, and at such a historical moment for the LGBT community, made me feel like life was offering me a surprising, auspicious gift. The trip was magical. I made my way to Dolores Park at least three times while there to sunbathe, to philosophize, and to chat with a fellow traveler. The mood there was playful.
During my time there, and right after the announcement was made that gay marriage would be recognized everywhere in the 50 United States and in all U.S. territories, the entire city of San Francisco became a huge celebration. At one point while walking in the neighborhood, I noticed that a random wedding was taking place in front of a building, and strangers on the street gathered around the event to take pictures.
My last picture from San Francisco, which I took just before I left, is of the Harvey Milk painting looking out from the window where he lived and led the civil rights struggle decades ago. Now we stand on the shoulders of people like him. During this week the confederate flag went down, the rainbow flag rose high with LGBT full equality, and Donald Trump ran his mouth reminding us there is still work to do