I am on my way to your campus in just a few hours. Let me tell you part of my journey and why I am both afraid and unworried. I am currently in the Mission, which is a neighborhood in San Francisco, for my readers edification. It seems, relative to my own home, this neighborhood has many inflection points which I am sure is a topic area of much debate. In the same day I had an expensive burger which I didn’t bother to photograph since there was nothing special about it. . . I also saw a man shooting up drugs intravenously, which I did photograph only to make sure my eyes did not deceive me. How do these two events sit so close in proximity of time and location?

This question almost haunts me. It seems many people are ambivalent toward their own heath. I talked to one person who told me they had a botched surgery in their knee, and instead of filing in civil court, they happily took the hospitals settlement, which was a repair surgery where he was only billed $140 something dollars.

In the same day I met a man with a big heart but a small temper. He said many good things which made me feel safe, but did some things which made me question my own judgement. I wondered often if he was truly as happy as he said he was. Maybe content is a better word; I digress. In one exchange I offered him insight from my own therapist which had to do with feeling a sense of injustice if I don’t block or defend every transgression. Which brings me to some purpose of my journey, justice. What are we willing to tolerate as people, and what do we consider injustices worth fighting for?

I have been casually studying this question on this small and impromptu trip. When I arrived in San Francisco, I met up with a friend who I haven’t seen in well over a decade. I told them of my work for my school’s student government, moreover about another returning adult student who I have befriended a few years back. We discussed the ethical issue of applying for jobs and exaggeration. I asked my friend in so many words if it would be ethical to “check the box” to meet a requisite on an application just to get the interview, and then tell later tell an interviewer the truth. We agreed the line is clearly in what you say, meaning that even an application is a statement. One should never intentionally lie. If you have children, and other important responsibilities, does that line move?

Later I went to a real tourist part of San Francisco, my expensive burger place. I wasn’t disappointed or anything, in fact, I was having a good time. I just don’t take pleasure traveling and being surrounded by other travelers like me. I met a local who had recommendations for me to find good food. He told me about his botched surgery, and gave me a recommendation to eat at a pizza parlor down the street. I went there and looked at the menu, the pizza was very fancy, and I could tell it was nothing but tourists. I want to understand the vibe, and learn something about about the locals. So I traveled back to the Mission. This part of the city, and this time of day reeks with the smell of urine. I saw many people passed out at train stations, or walking around with pants just above their knees, one such person without any under garment. I saw a man shooting drugs intravenously. How could a place have so many differences in culture and lifestyles?

What do we fight for, what injustices?

What about people, what if we fought for people?

See you soon SLS.