Gentrification no longer a dirty word New money improving city, but displacement concerns remain

James Ellis of San Francisco walks past the Dogpatch Saloon on his way to work in the Dogpatch neighborhood on Friday, February 22, 2013 in San Francisco, Calif. James Ellis of San Francisco walks past the Dogpatch Saloon on his way to work in the Dogpatch neighborhood on Friday, February 22, 2013 in San Francisco, Calif. Photo: Lea Suzuki, The Chronicle Photo: Lea Suzuki, The Chronicle Image 1 of / 5 Caption Close Gentrification no longer a dirty word 1 / 5 Back to Gallery

A citywide surge in trendy restaurants. Runaway rental and housing rates. Construction cranes dotting the skyline. The Twitter-ization of blighted Mid-Market. Conversions of old buildings to new market-rate housing, even in the stubbornly seedy Tenderloin.

If we hadn't been told over and over that it is an evil word that should never be uttered in San Francisco, even cynics would say it is the g-word:

Gentrification.

And it's happening with surprisingly little grumbling.

"Or," says 30-year real estate veteran Joske Thompson, "I think it is a different kind of grumbling. Even the long-termers in neighborhoods are appreciating the changes. Those people in the Mission like the fact that they can walk the neighborhood and feel safer."

The difference this time is that the push is coming from the bottom up. Rather than fat-cat developers promoting ugly skyscrapers, the demand is coming from young techies who work here or in the Silicon Valley and want to preserve the feel of unique neighborhoods. Their presence is being felt not only in the Mission, where Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg now has a home, also in areas that were once considered downtrodden.

"Young people with talent are the new movers and shakers in the city," says Thompson, who says the city sells itself. "Last weekend I had some clients who were looking in the Mission. We drove by Dolores Park, and it was packed. They said, 'Is there a street fair?' "

Nope, just another afternoon in trendy town.

"This is a small city of 800,000 people," says Supervisor Scott Wiener, who chairs the Board of Supervisors' Land Use and Development Committee. "And 2 to 3 million people want to live here. We just need to make sure we don't kill that quirkiness and uniqueness."

Displacement in '70s, '80s

While the city experienced a similar boom in the '80s, the concern then was "Manhattanization" - and that's when gentrification became a dirty word.

"In the '70s and '80s there was massive displacement of residents in the Haight, Noe Valley and the Castro," says Randy Shaw, executive director of the Tenderloin Housing Clinic. "But now you are seeing a massive influx of upper-income people into previously unoccupied areas."

This boom has its share of concerned activists, but we have yet to see the stop-any-kind-of-development movement we saw in the '80s.

Still, higher rents are higher rents, and if monthly rates top $2,000, that will affect the entire rental stock.

"In over 30 years of doing this, I have never seen rents like this," says Delene Wolf, executive director of the city's Rent Stabilization Board. "My surmise is those Google buses must be fueling that. The whole demographic has changed. I just think about what people on the low end of the economic ladder are feeling."

Tenants feel at risk

Sara Shortt, executive director of the Housing Rights Council of San Francisco, says the booming rents create a climate that encourages landlords to drive out rent-controlled tenants.

"I am hearing from people who are feeling like survivors in isolated pockets," she said. "Don't be fooled. There are still big-money real estate developers creating that market."

But, those changes are largely happening in neighborhoods that have made the progression from urban blight to uber-hot.

Take Dogpatch, an obscure right turn off Third Street south of AT&T Park. Until recently, it was best known as home to the clubhouse of the San Francisco chapter of Hells Angels.

In 2002, Arienne Landry moved her Just for You Cafe from Potrero Hill, but not before she parked her truck on the street for a few days to check out the vibe.

"It was pretty sketchy, almost industrial," says Landry, who had to shoo drug users away from the cafe entrance after she opened.

Now there's a line out the door for weekend brunch, and she says weekdays have gone from "whatever to craziness."

Susan Eslick, an artist, has lived in Dogpatch since 1996. Now she can walk down 22nd Street and call out the changes on every corner. There's Chocolate Lab, a local chocolate maker, Rickshaw Bagworks, which makes custom messenger bags, a cheese shop, a gourmet ice cream store and Olivier's, a French butcher shop. And perhaps most important to the transformation, Piccino restaurant. It opened in 2006, attracting both foodies and good reviews.

"When I got here, you'd have been hard-pressed to find a woman pushing a baby stroller," says Eslick, vice president of the Dogpatch Neighborhood Association. "Now we have three preschools and a baby gym. It all happened around the time Puccino opened."

Dogpatch hasn't lost its funk. The Hells Angels are still there, and they're active members of the Dogpatch Neighborhood Association.

So don't try to tell her that upscaling of the neighborhood is a bad thing.

"The term gentrification is loaded," she said. "I say bring it on. It just has to be designed well. There's no tolerance for schlock."

People mean change

There are surely more changes to come. The Tenderloin's Shaw says the neighborhood has been relatively untouched by the surge, but thousands of residential units near Eighth Street are under construction, and with the arrival of both Twitter and Dolby Labs, it seems impossible that area won't be transformed.

Those who have already ridden the wave say it is best to go with the flow. Now that her cafe has become a hot spot, startup millionaires stop by for lunch regularly.

"We just ignore them," she says.