Where there are more BLM signs than Black people

A few months ago, I went to Berkeley for a work event. I drove for hours between Los Angeles and Berkeley, through the Central Valley of California, an agricultural heartland, thinking about our relationship with the land, with food, and the relationship between urban and rural places.

While in Berkeley, I stayed in a cute airbnb space with big windows and minimalist decor. My colleague had booked the space. She was originally looking for a bigger house where our whole team of six could stay together, but it was difficult to find one, so we split up into two houses. I thought about the housing shortage in the Bay Area. I thought about the housing crisis as a humanitarian criss. I thought about our relationship to land, shelter, and safety.

I live in Los Angeles and in many parts of the city, it’s hard to drive for more than 10 minutes without seeing tents where houseless folks live. I often think about how Los Angeles contains so much wealth among the elite and so much pain among the people who cannot get their basic needs met. In the Bay Area, because of its smaller land mass, this contrast feels more stark, the pain more intense. Driving around in the Bay Area means witnessing the realities of houseless neighbors while knowing the unconscionable wealth of its billionaire residents.