At a meeting meant to unite tech workers and housing activists Tuesday night, it took less than half an hour for them to turn on each other.

The 100 or so tech workers, packed into a Mission District bar with activists and politicians, expected a dialogue about San Francisco's high-speed gentrification - and how to stop it. But 15 minutes in, they had already been told by activist Alicia Garza that the people responsible for the "flavor" that draws people to the city are "the folks who were living here before."

After a pause, she added, "Um, and you do too."

Then Fred Sherburn-Zimmer, the next housing rights advocate at the mike, reminded the crowd that the people who give San Francisco its character - think murals, street festivals and the city's progressive roots - are being forced out due to the booming tech economy.

"The people who did that work, right now, literally are being displaced," she said. "Their landlord is telling them right now they have to get the f- out."

Enough was apparently enough.

"Is this a dialogue?" interrupted one man, who declined to give his name. "I'm a representative of the tech community, and for 25 minutes now, this has felt pretty one-sided."

Media coverage

Some cheered. Other tech workers rushed to shush him. Sherburn-Zimmer's voice was shaky as she continued, but she found enough confidence to tell tech workers that they benefit from privilege when it comes to media coverage, since reporters dotted the room that night but are usually absent from activists' protests.

"Somehow people seem to think that you're extra special," she said. (A heckler sighed, "Jesus Christ.") "I think you're part of San Francisco. I don't think you're special-er than everyone else."

The Tech Workers Against Displacement Happy Hour, led by a union organizer and a tech worker, had advertised itself as a place where tech workers "sick of being blamed for S.F.'s housing crisis" could come together to find solutions. As representatives from neighborhood groups took turns at the mike in Virgil's Sea Room, some solutions emerged: volunteer at an advocacy group, or help Supervisor David Campos, who was there gathering support for his proposed tax on landlords who evict using the Ellis Act.

When it came time for the tech workers to say their piece, hands shot up. The man who interrupted earlier said he didn't know, beyond suggestions to build a website for nonprofits, what he could to do to help. ("You could listen!" another man shouted.)

Brian Hanlon, a 31-year-old Forest Service employee, told tech workers to leverage their companies' resources and encourage employers to "do the right thing."

"If your firm is having trouble finding a great new acquisition target and they have tons of money sitting around, maybe you can encourage them to donate some of that to these (housing) nonprofits as well," he said.

For self-described tech workers, the night took on a bit of a confessional tone.

Another man who didn't want to give his name but said he was from the dot-com boom and called himself "part of the new upper class of Silicon Valley," encouraged tech employees to "acknowledge our privilege" and "listen to people's stories of eviction instead of looking at our phones." He then read from a poem that said, "The Internet is killing us."

Seth Benton, 35, who didn't want to name his employer, described the guilt he feels about his place in the neighborhood.

"I've felt deeply conflicted about being in tech," Benton told the crowd. "I've been so involved in the conversation that I don't say what I do at a party often."

He showed the crowd his employer badge and said he takes it off "whenever I go outside the office because it stigmatizes me as a tech worker."

Engaging people

Attacking tech workers as soon as they arrive in a city only turns them off, Benton said. Instead, events like Tuesday's that engage people are "really great."

"Don't tell them to leave, because they're not going to anyway," he said. "Invite them in ... and eventually they'll become a part of it and want to fight for you."

After the discussion ended, Hanlon, of the Forest Service, said he thought tech workers' problems didn't compare with those facing eviction.

"None of the speakers said anything that called out tech workers specifically," he said. "I think there's a lot of imagined victimhood on their part."

Several tech workers said they were encouraged by the night but still weren't quite sure how to help such a complex problem right away without measurable goals or problems to solve.

And others were discouraged by the us-versus-them attitude. Brett Welch, a 30-year-old Australian transplant who founded a video startup, said he was heckled by a woman in the crowd who accused him of not having lived in San Francisco long enough.

"I said, 'How do you even know that?' She goes, 'I just do,' " said Welch, who has lived in San Francisco for five years. "And I'm like, 'No, you don't. You have no idea how long someone's been here.' It's just very polarized."

The first meeting wasn't very productive, he said, but it could accomplish one thing.

"I really want people to see that I have a face, and I have feelings, and I love the neighborhood that I live in," he said. "And I don't want to see people kicked out."