communications – GLIDE – San Francisco: serving the people of the Tenderloin and San Francisco since 1963

GLIDE’s barbershop, known as “The Shop” was opened to address the disproportionate impact of drug overdoses on older Black men in San Francisco. Black men over 50 have the highest rate of overdose fatalities in San Francisco: they account for 12% of recent overdose deaths, despite representing less than 1% of the population.

Barbershops are trusted spaces associated with dignity and care for older Black men. (Much of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s civil rights organizing happened from his barbershop!) The Shop is a venue for health education and peer support groups, funded by the city of San Francisco to be a culturally responsive solution opening paths to treatment.

When Killer Mike visited GLIDE this week, he looked at The Shop and said, “This is beautiful. If you want to make a community healthier, go to the barbershop.” Killer Mike owns a barbershop in Atlanta that has a mission of lifting up men in the community who are out of work and help move them toward sustainable, lifelong careers. “I remember they told us we were crazy to open a barbershop in Edgewood, in the hood,” Killer Mike reminisced.

Naysayers always overlook the power, strength and resiliency, the beauty of the human spirit, that can be found in challenged neighborhoods like Edgewood or the Tenderloin. The older Black men who formed the peer support group Killer Mike attended all faced significant challenges, such as homelessness, trauma, and navigating health and recovery. Still, when asked to open the group by sharing their feelings, they spoke overwhelmingly of gratitude.

“I am overwhelmingly blessed by the things God is doing in my life,” said one. Many of them used the word blessed. One said enthusiastically, “I love that I was invited to an event of this caliber!” They acknowledged the pain of their lives, but the pain was not the focus. One of them said, “I’m trying to alchemize the pain into something beautiful.” The Shop has a leadership cohort training group, and one man spoke of his pride at graduating from the leadership cohort program.

Killer Mike responded to the enthusiasm at his presence by insisting that, on the contrary, he was the one who was honored! “As an organizer, educator, and working class kid, I am honored to be here. I appreciate all of you. There’s no place I’d rather be: I love being with people who are changing the world.” Then he talked about the activism work he’d been pursuing since 15 years of age, his focus on getting wrongfully convicted people out of jail. “If you do not organize WITH the people, you do not organize FOR the people,” he said.

After introductions, the group’s therapist facilitator brought up the discussion topic of the day: What emotions were they encouraged to express as men, what emotions were they encouraged to hide?

The men in the room talked about childhoods and young adulthoods where they were taught that anger was the only acceptable emotion to reveal. Emotions they were pressured to hide included sadness, fear– even curiosity. One man talked about how when he read the dictionary for fun as a teenager and used the words he learned, people had negative reactions and pushed back.

Not everyone in the peer support group faced economic hardship in their youth: one man who shared his story was raised by a middle class family and had a good job for most of his life. But when a health tragedy struck, he lost everything. He discussed how the material losses came with spiritual gains. “Today, I live in a shelter,” he said, “But I don’t identify with that. I identify with what the word of God says I am: I walk around like a king.”

The group then discussed the connection between unexpressed negative feelings and substance use, and the importance of expressing your feelings in avoiding relapse. The therapist passed around worksheets designed to help men name and identify their feelings. Towards the end of the session, the conversation transitioned towards the passing on of intergenerational wisdom.

Killer Mike shared how he was raised by his grandparents, how proud he was of his grandmother who marched with Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. He described how his grandparents rarely used words to express their feelings, but expressed love through acts of service. “We always knew we were loved,” he said. “We have to let the youth know that they are loved! That’s what we need to do!”

The session closed by asking the room how they planned to encourage a young Black man after leaving that room today. “You don’t have to save the world,” Killer Mike said. “You just have to do one good thing, lift up one young person. It’s so good to be in a room of men going through it with their head up and their chest out!”

I’m Johnny Reed. I’m 39 years old.

I first heard about GLIDE through a friend who worked here. At the time, I was working as a boxing trainer and for a company that serviced Sprinter vans used by dog-grooming businesses. When my friend told me about GLIDE, I wanted to check it out.

I’ve always been drawn to work that helps people. Through boxing, I coach individuals through challenges and help them build confidence. GLIDE felt like another opportunity to serve people who are facing difficult circumstances and make a positive impact on their lives.

I’ve been at GLIDE for nearly a year, and the time has flown by.

Career Development

I was recently promoted to an assistant manager position. While I was excited about the opportunity, I also felt prepared for it because of the work I’d been doing and the relationships I’d built with my coworkers and supervisors.

I’m always looking for ways to grow and improve. Wherever I go, I try to be genuine and wholehearted in the way I support people. When the assistant manager position became available, I believed I could contribute in that role and continue developing professionally while helping the team succeed.

Role of Ambassador

What I enjoy most about being an ambassador is helping people and seeing their lives change.

Sometimes, at the end of the day, it can feel like nothing is happening. Maybe nobody accepts the assistance we’re offering. Then a week or a month later, you learn that someone found shelter, got clean, or made another positive change in their life. Those are the moments that mean the most to me.

One story that has stayed with me happened recently. A young pregnant woman came to GLIDE after experiencing a very difficult situation. She had learned that the man she was with was a sex offender, and he had been physically abusing her. She wanted to return to her family near Sacramento.

She came to GLIDE, and we sat down with her and listened to what she was going through. She was very scared. We were able to help her reconnect with her family and get somewhere safe quickly. Knowing that we could help her reunite with her loved ones during such a difficult time was a beautiful feeling.

Working as an ambassador at GLIDE has also opened my eyes to what people experience every day right outside our doors. One of the biggest eye-openers for me has been seeing families, women, and children walking past people openly using drugs. Sometimes they must step into the street just to avoid the smoke. Seeing that has made me think deeply about the challenges our community faces and the work that still needs to be done.

My commitment to helping others is rooted in many of my own life experiences growing up in Oakland.

Life in Oakland

I grew up in Oakland, and when I look back on my childhood, it felt fun and normal at the time. As I got older and gained more perspective, I realized that some of the things I experienced weren’t necessarily healthy or typical for a child.

I come from a large family with ten siblings. Three of my sisters are older than me, so although I’m one of the older boys, I’ve always felt a little like a middle child.

My parents loved us deeply, and I want to make that clear. There was a lot of love in our home. But because both of my parents struggled with drugs and alcohol, there wasn’t much structure or discipline. The lifestyle they were living wasn’t a positive example for me, my siblings, or the other children around us.

It took me a long time to realize that I wanted something different for myself. I was probably around 28 or 29 when I started thinking, “I need to do better. I need a better way of living.”

Although I grew up around drugs, I never used them myself. My family has experienced a lot over the years, including the loss of my younger brother to gun violence in Oakland about 13 years ago.

Despite those hardships, my family is doing well today. Everyone is working, raising their children, getting married, and continuing to move forward.

Boxing as a Discipline

Johnny teaching boxing skills to the next generation

Boxing has always been an important part of my life. My dad boxed in college, and that’s where my interest began.

What I love about boxing is the discipline and the challenge. I enjoy being pushed, pushing myself, and constantly working to improve. But boxing is about much more than learning how to fight.

For me, boxing builds structure and confidence. When you understand what you’re capable of, you don’t feel like you have to prove yourself to anyone, unless you’re in the ring. Outside the ring, there’s no reason to fight anybody.

Boxing gave me that confidence. There was a period when I stopped training, but when I returned to the sport, it reminded me of everything boxing had given me throughout my life and helped me rebuild my confidence.

That’s also what I love about coaching. I’m not just teaching someone how to throw punches. I’m helping young people develop confidence, structure, and discipline.

A lot of kids start boxing because they think they want to fight. Once they begin training, they realize it’s something completely different. They discover the value of discipline, hard work, and self-confidence. What young person wouldn’t benefit from that?

I want to continue coaching and working with young people because I love seeing them grow, believe in themselves, and develop the discipline they need to succeed.

Looking Forward

As for my future at GLIDE, I’m focused on continuing to grow and remaining open to new opportunities. I want to keep learning, developing my skills, and contributing wherever I can make the biggest impact.

I live in Brentwood now. Once I started driving, I got comfortable with the commute.

If someone is hesitant about coming to GLIDE for help, I tell them that I’m here for them. I explain what GLIDE offers and how we can support them.

I don’t just speak from opinion. I speak from experience. I’ve seen a lot through my family, and I’ve seen people living in circumstances they shouldn’t have to endure. I approach people with love, respect, and a genuine desire to help them improve their situation.

Many times, when I share a little of my own story, it encourages people. They begin to trust me, come to GLIDE, or simply become more willing to listen.

Whether I’m coaching in a boxing gym or working as an ambassador at GLIDE, my goal is the same: to help people recognize their own strength. I want people to know that I approach them with love, respect, and a genuine desire to help.

Sometimes all someone needs are support and someone who believes in them.

GLIDE’s Health Empowerment and Access Team (HEAT) not only offers many health services on site, but also refers clients to other programs. GLIDE’s case managers follow up with them and track their progress as they move through those programs, providing an extra layer of support.

So when Anthony graduated from the Salvation Army’s six month long Adult Rehabilitation Center (ARC) program, his case manager Liz Oates and other GLIDE staff were at the graduation ceremony to celebrate his victory.

Anthony has been through a lot. “My uncle passed away from a fentanyl overdose,” Anthony shared. “He was missing, and they eventually found his body between two buildings. For a long time, I was mad at God about it. Today, I know he’s in a better place.”

Anthony said the first month of the program was the hardest, but he relied on a higher power and kept on pushing. Focusing on doing everything he could to better himself in his daily life helped– even small actions like going out of his way to do all the house’s dishes.

Anthony says the key to recovery is to “stop running scared and start running TOWARDS something.” For Anthony, focusing on his faith and his music helped give him a direction to run towards. Anthony loves hip hop, rap, and R&B, and composes his own music under the artist name Skitzflo.

“I love seeing my brothers graduate,” Anthony said, speaking of the others in his cohort. “They are real leaders of our recovery house.”

The graduation was full of thunderous cheers for each and every person who completed their six-month program– the love and support filled the air. Each graduate also gave a speech to inspire others in the recovery program. The message of Anthony’s speech was, “God’s got your back.”

Anthony hopes to study radiology in the future as well as pursue his musical ambitions. We at GLIDE are wishing him well and hoping for the fulfillment of all his dreams!

Growing Up Between Two Cultures

My name is Jenny Martinez, and although I was born in León, Guanajuato, Mexico, I consider San Francisco my home. I came to the United States when I was about one year old. My father had already moved here, and shortly afterward my mother brought me to join him. Since then, I have spent virtually my entire life in San Francisco and the surrounding area. I grew up in the Tenderloin, surrounded by family, community, and experiences that helped shape the person I am today.

I am the oldest of five children, with one brother and three sisters. Being the oldest has always been an important part of who I am. In a large family, there is often a lot of responsibility, and from a very young age I learned what it meant to help take care of others. Family has always been one of the most important things in my life. We are very close, and I honestly cannot imagine where I would be without my siblings, my mother, and the support system we have built together over the years.

My Education and Early Years

I attended Tenderloin Community School from kindergarten through fifth grade, then KIPP San Francisco Academy for middle school, and later Wallenberg High School. Looking back, I had a positive experience in school. I especially appreciated attending a smaller high school because it felt more personal and manageable. I was able to build relationships with teachers and classmates without feeling lost in a huge environment.

One of the most significant influences during my childhood was GLIDE’s Family, Youth & Childcare Center (FYCC). My parents enrolled me when I was around five years old, and I remained involved throughout my childhood. Some of my happiest memories come from my time there. I remember the field trips, the after-school activities, the teachers, and the staff members who genuinely cared about the children they served. They weren’t just supervisors. They were mentors and role models.

Learning, Growing, and Finding Confidence

One of the things I appreciate most when I look back is how much support I received academically. Math was never my strongest subject, and I often struggled with homework. I remember staff members encouraging me to stay after school for tutoring even when I didn’t really want to. At the time I probably didn’t appreciate it as much as I should have, but today I realized how valuable that support was. I still remember specific lessons and techniques that teachers used to help me understand multiplication years later. That kind of impact stays with a person.

As a child of immigrant parents, language was another challenge that shaped my experience. At home, we primarily spoke Spanish. Most of my exposure to English came through school and GLIDE. Because I spent so much of my day immersed in English, I eventually became more comfortable speaking English than Spanish. Today, I am bilingual, and I feel grateful for that. Being able to navigate both languages has connected me to my family, my culture, and my community.

An Unexpected Turn Into Motherhood

Years later, after graduating from high school, my life took a major turn when I became pregnant with my son, Damian. The pregnancy was unexpected, and I was only nineteen years old when I found out. Like many young women in that situation, I was scared. I wasn’t sure how my family would react, and I worried about how my future might change.

What I quickly learned, however, was just how strong my support system really was. My mother became one of my greatest sources of strength during that time. When I told her I was pregnant, I expected disappointment or anger. Instead, she responded with love and support. I remember crying because I was afraid, and by the end of the conversation, I was crying because I felt relieved. Knowing that I wasn’t alone made all the difference.

The Importance of Family Support

Becoming a mother changed me in ways I never expected. Damien was born in 2022, and from the moment he arrived, my priorities shifted. Thankfully, I had experience caring for children because I had spent so much time helping raise my younger siblings. As the oldest child, I often helped with feeding, changing diapers, bottle preparation, and general childcare. In many ways, I had already developed parenting skills long before I became a mother myself.

Even with that preparation, raising your own child is different. When you’re helping with a sibling, there is always someone else who takes over. When it’s your own child, the responsibility belongs to you. That realization was both challenging and empowering. It taught me resilience, patience, and a deeper understanding of unconditional love.

Returning to GLIDE as a Parent

One of the biggest blessings in my parenting journey has been reconnecting with GLIDE through Damien. Because of my own experience as a child, I always knew that if I had children, I would want them to be part of FYCC. When Damien became eligible for childcare, I applied immediately. Fortunately, he was accepted into the program.

The impact that decision had on my life cannot be overstated. Knowing that my son was in a safe, nurturing environment allowed me to work and focus on other responsibilities without constantly worrying about his well-being. I trusted the staff because I knew firsthand what kind of care they provide. The program that helped shape my childhood was now helping shape my son’s childhood.

Watching My Son Thrive

Today, when I watched Damien learn and grow, I saw many of the same opportunities that I was given. He is learning numbers, letters, language, and social skills. He is becoming bilingual, speaking both English and Spanish, and it’s incredible to see him naturally move between the two languages. He reminds me every day of how important early childhood education can be.

I also appreciate the ways that FYCC supports families beyond education. Programs that provide necessities like diapers and other resources have been incredibly important, especially as I prepare to welcome my daughter, Danalise. As a growing family, every bit of support matters. These programs reduce financial stress and allow parents to focus more on raising healthy, happy children.

A Community That Understands Children

Another thing that stands out to me is the culture at FYCC. The staff are patient, understanding, and compassionate. I’ve seen firsthand how they work with children who may have behavioral, developmental, or learning challenges. Rather than giving up on children, they invest time and energy into helping them succeed. That approach makes a tremendous difference for families.

Safety is another area where I feel confident. The center takes safety seriously, from its facilities and supervision practices to its communication with parents. As a mother, there is nothing more important than knowing your child is being cared for in a secure environment.

Lessons Learned Through Parenthood

Today, I live in Daly City with my family. Until recently, I worked in office administration and organization. As my pregnancy progressed, I stepped away from work to prepare for the arrival of my daughter. Motherhood is currently my primary focus, and I am excited to welcome another child into my family.

Being a parent has taught me that no one is ever completely prepared. Some days are difficult, and there are moments of uncertainty. But there are also moments that make everything worthwhile. When my son notices that I am having a hard day and tells me I am beautiful or asks if I am okay, it reminds me why being a parent is such a meaningful experience. Those small moments carry enormous value.

If I could offer advice to other young parents, it would not be to focus on regret or fear. There will always be challenges, but there is something incredibly special about watching a child grow and knowing that they look up to you. The love between a parent and child is unlike anything else.

A Multi-Generational GLIDE Family

One thing that makes me especially proud is that my connection to GLIDE spans generations. I attended the program as a child. My siblings attended after me. My son attends now. My youngest sister recently graduated from the preschool program and moved on to kindergarten. We are truly a GLIDE family.

That continuity says something important about the organization and its impact. Families don’t keep returning generation after generation unless they trust the people, the environment, and the mission. For me and my family, GLIDE has been more than just a place for my children to thrive. It is a place where they can get the support and nurturing they need from a larger community.

Looking Toward the Future

If someone asked me what GLIDE has meant to my life, I would say it has been present during some of the most important stages of my journey. It helped me learn English, succeed in school, make memories, and feel supported as a child. Years later, it helped me become a confident parent by providing care, resources, and opportunities for my own son. The lessons, relationships, and experiences I gained there have stayed with me throughout my life.

Most importantly, GLIDE has shown me what community looks like. It is a place where families support one another, where children are encouraged to grow, and where people are treated with patience, understanding, and respect. As I prepare to welcome my daughter into the world and continue raising my son, I am grateful to know that my family remains connected to a community that has given us so much over the years.

GLIDE has been part of my story for nearly my entire life, and I hope it will continue to be part of my family’s story for many years to come.

61-year old Tenderloin resident Tony Trim describes the impact of The Shop on his life. After coming in for a haircut, he learned about the health education and peer support groups and kept coming back. Tony is in recovery and especially appreciates having peer support around relapse prevention. He says, “I’ve put walls up, but being around men who have been on the same journey as me… it makes me feel not ashamed that I’ve been through this, you know what I mean? There’s nothing but love here.

The Shop Behavioral Health Services enhances GLIDE’s “The Shop” by adding licensed counselors and a peer specialist delivering assessment, therapy, crisis support, and recovery planning to address urgent behavioral health needs of underserved populations, particularly Black/African American men 50+.

GLIDE wishes to thank the Saint Francis Foundation for a $200,000 grant in support of GLIDE’s “The Shop” Behavioral Health Services Project.

GLIDE’s Social Justice Academy (SJA) is a fellowship for people who have navigated tough times, and provides advocacy opportunities and skill training. Lawmakers benefit from hearing the lived experiences of the people their policies are intended to serve. Today we spotlight SJA fellow Erik Preciado, whose cohort was sponsored by a grant from Kaiser Foundation Hospital Fund for Community Benefit Programs at the East Bay Community Foundation. From suffering early hardship in childhood, to choosing community service as a young man, to obtaining an internship with Supervisor Bilal Mahmood, Erik has had an incredible journey– and he’s just getting started.

Erik originally encountered GLIDE as part of a group of LGBT+ people who volunteered with our Meals program. As a college student studying Social Justice with an emphasis on Chicano Studies at Chabot College, Erik thought the program was the perfect match.

The role of community during social crisis

“I really enjoy walking down streets of Tenderloin and speaking with people who are unhoused and people who are dealing with addiction. When you speak and connect with them, you see they are people who are just like you and I. There shouldn’t be any form of intimidation against them, because they have good hearts and are part of the community,” Erik said.

While at SJA, Erik learned about the weakness of governmental safety nets, and how grassroots organizations like GLIDE and others fill in the gaps. “Those organizations are made up of people who have experience with crises. People who know what it’s like to be unhoused, or experience behavioral health and access issues. People with those life experiences better understand how to support people in those same situations– which is sometimes lacking with politicians.”

Erik commented on how the average person believes governmental safety nets are strong and well-established and well-developed; but it’s not true. There are many bureaucratic obstacles to navigating EBT, Section 8 Housing, and other services. Erik believes that community involvement is vital to improving and strengthening safety nets.

Meeting with lawmakers and growing advocacy skills

Over the course of the program, Erik loved being able to show up to San Francisco City Hall and the State Capitol in Sacramento to advocate for transitional age youth, immigrants, and unhoused people. He advocated for budget allocation in the Tenderloin going towards behavioral health and overdose prevention. He also supported SB 1422, which protected Medi-Cal for undocumented adults, and AB 2161 which protected Medi-Cal coverage for low-income Californians.

Specifically, Erik was able to meet with Supervisor Myrna Melgar and Supervisor Bilal Mahmood in the course of his advocacy, who both made a wonderful impression on Erik. Describing Sup. Mahmood, Erik mentioned: “He was very attentive to issues we were bringing up around his district. He let us have a space where we could share our voices and concerns about behavioral health.” Erik applied for a September 2026 internship at Sup. Mahmood’s office– and was accepted!

Understanding systemic issues promotes forgiveness and love

An important piece of context Erik brings to policy discussions is his childhood experience with how the War on Drugs affected Mexico. U.S. policies often led to military hardware being in the hands of those who did not use it responsibly, causing an atmosphere of violence. When Erik was twelve, his father was murdered, and it left a deep impression on his young life. He sees his father’s death as related to the USA’s choice to practice mass criminalization on people south of the border.

But Erik spoke words of forgiveness: “At the end of the day, it’s not really the fault of the people who murdered my father. It’s the fault of the systemic issues that trap people, and force them to do these things. It was not right. It was horrifying to go through that. But it’s the systems that need to change.”

Erik went on to say how inspired he was by GLIDE’s motto of unconditional love. “Unconditional love is not just loving the people you surround yourself with every day. It’s also sharing love and help with people who do not share your political views– even people who have hurt you in some type of way. When people are in crisis, that’s not a time to be teaching them morals and ethics– that’s a time to lend a helping hand.” Erik’s voice echoed that of Reverend Cecil Williams, who focused on helping people that churches usually reject.

A hopeful future, big dreams

When asked how SJA contributed to his self-image and personal development, Erik explained SJA had made him more in touch with his own feelings and those of other people. SJA also boosted his confidence around understanding policy and discussing controversial issues.

In the future, Erik wants to volunteer with the HIV Advocacy Network, and support immigration rights and immigrant justice however he can. He also wishes to fight for the LGBT+ community, for the undocumented community, and for BIPOC people. “All communities who have been kept out of power, I want to continue to empower them,” Erik said.

In the long term, Erik would like to start a small nonprofit to help people in the small town where he grew up: Tecolotlan, Mexico. He would love to provide scholarships to people from his town and open an LGBT+ center for them. To support Erik in starting his own nonprofit someday, follow @lgbtqmasteco on Instagram: he will begin posting there when he is ready to work on building the nonprofit.

Erik is grateful to his SJA teachers, whom he describes as “extremely special, pillars of the community—not your orthodox teachers: they have very unique personalities who are extremely compassionate and resourceful.” He is also grateful to his fellow cohort members, who inspired him with their own tales of overcoming hardship.

Erik has often faced housing insecurity over the course of his life, but today he is feeling optimistic. Not only does he have an internship lined up, he’s also been working as a community organizer with the Working Families Party. “I have turned the energy of sadness and anger into really helpful things for myself and the people around me,” said Erik. “I got back into college at a 3.91 GPA despite struggling through high school.

In the future, Erik dreams of going to law school, running for election, and helping to shape policy. We’re all rooting for him here at GLIDE!

This summer, GLIDE welcomed a group of Black2SF interns for a day of community service and conversation. Black2SF is a summer program for undergraduates from Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs) to receive hands-on work experience and connect with the city’s cultural and civic life.

An educational panel for our HBCU visitors included GLIDE staff Naeemah Charles, Francesca Delgado-Jones, Je Ton Carey, Minister Marvin K. White, and Murtala Lanval, as well as Christopher Powell from Code Tenderloin and Arieann Harrison from The Marie Harrison Community Foundation. Each shared their approaches and strategies for making San Francisco a better place.

Then the floor opened for an extensive discussion about the students’ experiences in San Francisco, the conclusions they’d drawn, and the questions they’d been left holding.

San Francisco Felt Different — In a Good Way

Several students said their first impression of the city was how free people seemed to be themselves. One student, comparing it to home, put it simply:

“The DC area is pretty corporate, for lack of a better word—everything is monotone, monocolor, fits in a cookie cutter. But here everyone expresses who they are emotionally, in their clothes, their hairstyle, and how they talk.”

Another student connected that openness to her own family:

“I have a gay dad, and I come every year to San Francisco for Pride. I love how everyone can walk around and be whoever they are. I love how the policies are set up so people have room to give input in governmental systems.”

That student went on to ask the panel a question that would shape much of the conversation: whether religion—such a central part of Black cultural identity—has helped GLIDE’s community connect across differences and support one another.

Reverend Cecil Williams Built a Sanctuary for a Common Fight

Marvin K. White answered with a story from GLIDE’s history. When queer communities and Black communities were both being targeted by police, Reverend Cecil Williams invited both groups into the sanctuary at Glide Memorial Church. The two communities didn’t always see eye to eye—but Reverend Cecil understood that, for either group to survive, they needed a common fight.

“The inclusiveness of San Francisco, the rights that you see, the freedoms—those are hard-won by people, by movements,” Marvin told the students. “At Glide Memorial Church, we believe the more we can come together across difference—spiritual difference, racial difference, generational difference—the stronger we are together!”

Struggle Looks Different in Every City — But It’s Still There

Other students spoke candidly about how visible poverty and homelessness felt in San Francisco compared to home. A student from Atlanta admitted:

“My first impression of SF was seeing a lot of struggle—stuff I’m not used to seeing, like people all over the sides of the streets. I know that’s a common sight in cities, but here it looks different.”

Students from Atlanta and Washington, DC, compared notes on why homelessness looks so different from city to city.

“Atlanta is spread out, so the struggle is underground rather than in public spaces,” one student observed, while another noted that policy in DC had literally removed the unhoused population from public view.

A student placed at Zuckerberg San Francisco General Hospital, working in the psychiatric unit, asked the panel directly why the city has so many social services compared to what she’d seen elsewhere. Arieann Harrison answered that San Francisco’s programs have been built through decades of grassroots community effort. Then she offered the students something more than an answer—a charge:

“When times get hard, you need to pivot, bump your head, pivot, recover quickly, and run toward the future. When you go out into the world, how many of you are waiting for someone to pass you the torch? Don’t wait for someone to pass you the torch. Grab it, pick it up, and run with it.”

Build a Chair If There Isn’t a Seat at the Table

Freddy Martin told students that, in his experience, change always starts with a spark—one person, or a small group, deciding:

“This isn’t right. This is too much. There’s something else that needs to be done, and I’m going to do it.”

That kind of resolve takes grit and perseverance, he said, especially when funding is difficult to secure. GLIDE fights to secure funding every year. His advice:

“You have to say you’ve had enough, talk to other people who have also had enough, and just create waves. If there ain’t a seat at the table, build a chair.”

Je Ton built on that point, urging students not to be shy about naming what their community needs.

“You have to be able to toot your own horn, offer the proof: this is why we need it, this is the impact. The worst thing to do is take up a seat and do nothing. If you’ve chosen to be in a seat, it requires you to do work on behalf of all of us.”

Naeemah Charles reminded students that no single person has to carry the whole struggle alone.

“In coalition spaces, not everybody should be doing the same thing—divide up the work. Sometimes people miss that when they get into this work, thinking they have to be everything or do everything. Not everyone has to be Martin Luther King Jr. or Angela Davis giving speeches. You need everyday organizers—people scheduling, doing logistics, making flyers, and making calls.”

The Struggle Is a Marathon — And These Students Are Ready to Run

By the end of the day, the students who arrived unsure of what to expect from the Tenderloin left with something to carry home to their own campuses and communities: a reminder that nobody has to wait for permission to pick up the torch.

GLIDE is proud to partner with programs like Black2SF that connect the next generation of Black leaders to our community.

הָ֭רֹפֵא לִשְׁב֣וּרֵי לֵ֑ב וּ֝מְחַבֵּ֗שׁ לְעַצְּבוֹתָֽם׃

‘The One who heals their broken hearts and binds up their wounds.’

-Psalm 147:3

It’s an overcast Monday morning at Crissy Field last August. I’m kneeling in the sand. The mighty Golden Gate Bridge towers behind me. In front of me are 50 bubbly and brilliant seventh graders from the Brandeis San Francisco School who are in the opening days of their school year. They are seated in concentric circles around me. I met these students at this awe-inspiring location to get to know them a bit, to help them imagine the year ahead: the learning, the growing (physically, mentally, spiritually) and to talk deeply about holy+healing service+learning that they would be doing at GLIDE in the coming year.

They asked great questions. And they could not contain their excitement to come volunteer at GLIDE. After some good conversations, these students, in their bathing suits, walked into the waters of the San Francisco Bay for a Jewish ritual called ‘mikvah’ which is a purposeful immersion in living waters. We brought them to the Crissy Field to put a sacred stamp on the beginning of their school year.

Rituals, at their very best, help us to mark time, to take soulful inventory of what is good and not good in our lives, to measure our growth and to point us toward making commitments to living more focused, purpose-filled lives. The Brandeis teachers and I had planned out a robust year of ritualized learning and serving for the seventh graders and their families.

In the ensuing nine months,

These students came to GLIDE to learn from GLIDE staff and clients and to serve lunch together nine separate times
Families from each grade came to serve breakfast at GLIDE one Sunday each month
Brandeis families came together to make sixty Welcome Home boxes (that contain needed household items) for newly-housed GLIDE clients who’ve come off the street or out of incarceration and into housing.
Parents from the community learned together regularly about GLIDE’s holy+healing work. Many of them showed off their best dance moves at GLIDE’s Holiday Jam.

In April, Brandeis’ Head of School Dan Glass and three of his amazing educators joined GLIDE’s 12th Alabama Justice Pilgrimage. It was an astonishing blessing to have them on the bus with us. Needless to say, the time we spent with them and 30 others on the ground in Alabama was simultaneously heart-breaking for the brutal stories we encountered about the history of racial terrorism in America…and profoundly inspiring thanks to the sessions we had with so many righteous, life-affirming, fiercely devoted justice activists, artists and educators who met us along the way. This justice pilgrimage was so inspiring for us all that we are working together on a plan to bring Brandeis 7th graders on a future Alabama Justice Pilgrimage.

This deepening partnership between GLIDE and Brandeis is what I call a justice covenant: a deep, enduring, soulful and commitment between loving individuals and communities that empowers us to collectively work to heal civic and societal wounds that have festered for way too long in this blessed yet troubled city and country of ours. When we gather together regularly, when see the Tzelem Elohim, the Image of God in one another’s eyes, we can’t help but remember that we need each other and that we are in this holy+healing work together.

In early June, I gathered back at Crissy Field with these Brandeis seventh graders, who had invested so much soulful time at GLIDE and in the Tenderloin this past year. By now, I knew their faces. I could see how each of them had grown physically this past year….what blessing. Once again, the bridge was at my back and their gorgeous faces were gathered tightly around me.

I asked them to reflect on this past year. How had they grown? How had their time at GLIDE impacted and inspired them? My GLIDE heart swelled from the stories they shared about how much they had grown because of the recurring, transformational time they had spent in the Tenderloin.

One student shared with me a story about serving french fries to a GLIDE client saying ‘It was really special that I could be serving food to the less fortunate while I was having an interesting conversation with someone I had never met before…I remember when Rabbi Lezak told us the difference between feeling uncomfortable and unsafe. The difference has made me stop and pause when I am on the street and see an unhoused person. I feel totally confident walking past them now while before I felt less so. I have been much more appreciative of how fortunate I am since our first visit to Crissy Field. I also see unhoused people in a different way than I did before. I plan to keep volunteering at GLIDE with friends and family.”

After the students shared their stories, we said a blessing together and, like they did at the beginning of their school year, they walked into the waters of the San Francisco Bay to put a ritual stamp on the end of their school year. They screamed with delight when their growing bodies met the cold water of the bay.

At GLIDE, we define a pilgrimage as ‘a journey of personal spiritual discovery that forever changes you.’ It is abundantly clear that the Brandeis students and families made recurring pilgrimages into GLIDE and the Tenderloin this year that forever changed them.

This is but one of many sacred, justice-covenant partnerships we have built through GLIDE’s Center for Social Justice. We are partnering with other schools, congregations and organizations to build similar pilgrimages together in the coming months and years.

We hope you will join us.

Rabbi Michael Lezak

In celebration of Pride Month, GLIDE’s Center for Social Justice and the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence co-hosted a powerful panel on queer history and futures, called “House of GLIDE.” The evening was also graced by a gorgeous dance performance from Sir JoQ and Crew.

Karl Robillard, GLIDE’s Chief Communications and Public Affairs Officer, welcomed the audience with a powerful personal story. “My friend and I were just two gay boys traveling to San Francisco, sixteen hours before Matthew Shepard was brutally killed and murdered,” he said, referencing the homophobic murder in 1998 of a gay student in Wyoming that led to hate crimes prevention legislation.

“You can imagine how we felt when we heard the news,” said Karl. “But as soon as we arrived in San Francisco, we made a beeline to the Castro. And there, right in front of the Bank of America, there was an altar of flowers to Matthew Shepard piled so high. I saw that altar and immediately thought to myself, ‘I am home.’ And 28 years later, I still feel that.”

The role of joy in building community

The Glide Ensemble sung “Unspeakable Joy,” and Minister Marvin K. White was applauded for his historic decision to permanently fly the Pride flag on Glide Memorial Church. The charismatic Sister Roma from the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence commented, “Being with all of you and hearing unspeakable joy from choir really makes me think, ‘I need to go to church.’ There’s so much crap around us all the time. We need joy!”

Honey Mahogany, Director of the Office of Transgender Initiatives for the city of San Francisco, reminded the audience, “Pride has always been about more than celebration: it’s been about survival, resistance and chosen family.”

Juanita MORE!, gorgeous in a stunning dress reminiscent of a monarch butterfly, testified to the power of San Francisco’s queer community: “There’s a group of people I met at Booty Call Wednesday. We grew up together, came out together, transitioned together, and they are still my chosen family.”

The importance of queer solidarity

Honey Mahogany also reminded us, “It was not so long ago that we were not allowed to gather in spaces. That was the reason for the Compton’s Cafeteria and the Stonewall Riots. It used to be that when we gathered, we would be thrown in paddywagons, our names published in newspapers. Now they are trying to take us back to those times. So it is more important than ever that we gather together, shine together, be loud, proud, weird, queer and trans together.”

The panelists inspired us with reminders of how queer communities have triumphed over fear and hatred for centuries. Minister Marvin K. White said, “The project to run queer people out of church is because we are powerful… They run us out and tell us there’s no way back in because they are afraid of us! My faith is about getting people back to their power.”

How queer history informs our present

Sister Roma described how hate crimes around Dolores Park inspired her dive into politics in 1987. Flyers with a pink triangle (the symbol Nazis forced on gay people during the Holocaust) and the slogan, “Stop the violence,” went viral. 39 years later, the Stop the Violence campaign is still going strong, with safety whistles and mutual aid.

Another successful campaign initiated by Sister Roma was the #MyNameIs campaign, a protest of FB’s policy which forced use of legal names instead of real names. This was particularly harmful to trans people due to the emotional trauma caused by deadnaming, but it was also unsafe for others, such as domestic violence survivors whose abusers could suddenly find personal information about them by looking up their legal name.

Juanita MORE!, known for throwing fabulous parties that raised money for LGBT+ causes, talked about the importance of joyful activism during times of grief and struggle. “In 1992, I was living through the AIDS crisis,” she said. “I was grieving a boyfriend who had passed away four months ago. Drag gave me the freedom to reconnect with my community.”

Tom Ammiano reminisced about the years when Regan and the right wing wanted God in the classroom but were also cutting school funding. Engaging in political struggle helped him feel empowered during bad times.

He also spoke about the importance of making all struggle intersectional with class struggle. “What this church does addresses something that is missing from a lot of politics– even the gay politicos miss it. GLIDE looks at the class issue– at not letting the ruling class diminish the humanity we all feel. If that’s spiritual, then I’m spiritual!” He then described how the intersectional lens used by GLIDE’s co-founder Reverend Cecil Williams helped unite black and gay communities around the shared issue of police violence.

The power of hope in challenging facism

All panelists spoke about the fear and tension queer folks experience in the current political atmosphere. “The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence have always been a litmus test for the First Amendment,” Sister Roma said. “In the past we have felt the Constitution was rock solid protection. Right now it feels more tenuous, it feels like there’s a very thin wall separating us from facism, it feels those rights and protections could be swept away with a stroke of a pen from an executive order.” But then she laughed and added that the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence have always been committed to speaking their minds despite the risks.

Minister Marvin K. White urged people to find strength in spirituality, inside or outside traditional religion. “You might find your spirituality in the awe of the night sky, in walks by the ocean, in the affirmation that lives on your refrigerator, on the dance floor, or in love itself. Spirituality is inherent. Once you practice it, it expands. It takes up more room than your body once you pay attention to it. If you think about their hate more than you think about your love, then they win. It’s a distraction. Remember we have survived everything they have thrown at us. Inside or outside organized religion, we are powerful, and we are here to love.”

The panel closed with questions from the audience– a young activist seeking advice on how to navigate the balance between assimilation and resistance was the first to speak up.

Tom Ammiano advised him to consider civil disobedience, to never shy from confrontation, for example, “take on the gay community when they are being racist.” The important thing, he clarified, was to have a group who thought the same as you on social justice issues. “Remember that even as you are searching for other people, they are searching for you!” Honey Mahogany advised the young activist to join many groups in order to receive a variety of perspectives. “Don’t be boxed in or defined by one specific group,” she advised.

We went away from the night with hope, inspiration, joy, energy, and delight for the struggle ahead.

On Saturday May 16th, musicians from many faith organizations (including Glide Memorial Church, City of Refuge UCC, and Oakland Interfaith Gospel Choir) joined together for a day of teaching, fellowship, and artistic exchange, funded by the generous gift of the Haas Foundation.

Teachers included Mark Montgomery French and Zoë Ellis from Glide Memorial Church, Eric Gilbert from the First Covenant Church of Oakland, artist Nona Brown, Derrick Hall the Music Minister at Allen Temple, Dr. Rusty Watson, the Minister of Music at City of Refuge and Love Center Ministries, and Linda Tillery, from the Cultural Heritage Choir, among others. In this post we’d like to share a few gems from this amazing event. The famed UCC Bishop Yvette Flunder opened with a welcome and blessed the event.

Bishop Flunder encouraged the gathered musicians by telling them: “Songs and singings are at the forefront of every great social movement– both in Biblical times and today! Movements stay moving in large part due to MUSIC.” Bishop Flunder then sang, “I Ain’t Gonna Let Nobody Turn Me Round,” (coincidentally, the very song Zoë Ellis had planned for Glide Memorial Church’s Celebration the next day!)

Then the participants received joyful, energy-filled lessons from musicians Nona and Rusty. When asked why they chose music ministry, they both replied, “I didn’t choose it– it chose me.”

Rusty told an inspirational story to encourage the participants present. When he first entered music leadership as a young man, he had anxiety about winning attention and acknowledgement for his work. After all, this is a world where most young artists are told they have the obligation to self-promote!

But Rusty’s mentor at the time gave him a wonderful piece of advice: “Stop worrying about YOU and start worrying about God and the work you’re doing. The rest will come.” After Rusty released his anxiety and just let it go, that’s when his reputation and fame began to grow organically. The lesson: our creativity is able to spread its wings when we are given permission to release our egos.

Lunch was catered by Rico Pabon from CaliRican Catering, a Puerto Rican catering company owned by a musician and a social justice activist! The participants enjoyed a spectacular fellowship lunch where they formed new friendships across many different music ministries in the Bay Area.

After lunch, Mark Montgomery French interviewed musician Tammy Hall, Eric Gilbert (Worship Director First Covenant Church of Oakland), and Derrick Hall (The Worship Arts Director at Allen Temple in Oakland) about the role of music in inspiring personal and social change. You can watch the panel here.

The grand finale of the day was a stunning lesson in music and music history from Linda Tillery, who taught the musicians field hollers, prison work songs, and old spirituals, educating them on the roots of Black music history in America. A moment when the workshop participants perfectly blended together three different spirituals into one glorious melody was absolutely magical.

One of the best moments for Glide Memorial Church’s Director of Music Ministries came the next day, when she spoke to Jay, a new alto in the choir, about how they enjoyed Roots and Resonance. Jay reflected on the role that music ministry played in personal transformation. “Bishop Yvette talked to us today about how the battle is often fought with music,” they said. “For me, the battle is often fought inside, and I feel alone. But my spirit felt less alone after this event.”

“It doesn’t get much better for me as a Director than that,” said Zoë Ellis, reflecting with satisfaction on Jay’s remark. “Community was built that day.” Special thanks to the City of Refuge audiovisual team whose help was instrumental for producing this event.

Special thanks to Marilyn Fowler, a lay minister at City of Refuge who was instrumental in organizing this event.

Author: communications