The Tenderloin remains a haven for LGBTQ+ San Franciscans

LGBTQ+ San Franciscans say the Tenderloin remains a haven for young queer people looking to make a fresh start in The City, even as the neighborhood has become a flashpoint for issues such as drug abuse and homelessness.

“It’s what makes people feel the most welcome — you can be anybody there,” said Curtis Bradford, the community organizing manager for the Tenderloin Neighborhood Development Corporation. “I just can’t think of a better example of what diversity and inclusion looks like.”

The neighborhood cemented its place in LGBTQ+ history in 1966 — three years before the better-known Stonewall riots in New York City — during the Compton’s Cafeteria riot , when members of the drag and trans community fought back against the San Francisco Police Department’s harsh treatment.

While the cafeteria has long since closed, the event has become part of the neighborhood’s fabric. A portion of the neighborhood now known simply as the Transgender District was previously named the Compton’s Transgender Cultural District. The neighborhood continues to welcome LGBTQ+ residents, Bradford said, pointing to his arrival in The City 20 years ago.

“I was one of the roughly 40% of young homeless folks who identify as LGBTQ+,” living in the Tenderloin, he said.

According to the 2022 Point-in-Time Count , a federally mandated tally of the number of homeless people in The City on a certain night, nationally around 40% of homeless youth or young adults identify as LGBTQ+. In San Francisco, it was 28%.

Bradford said he fell into drug use soon after arriving in the Tenderloin, with a disability while unhoused. But after some time, he found housing in a single-room-occupancy facility with the TNDC — and, he said, he has been sober for the last 13 years.

In his role today, he said, he still loves the Tenderloin for all that it offers to those looking for a place to land while acknowledging its problems.

“I think this neighborhood is more tolerant of activities that might otherwise not be in other neighborhoods,” he said. “But it’s also a place of last refuge or first access.”

Bradford and others in San Francisco’s queer community said they have noticed an increase in the number of LGBTQ+ youth arriving in The City amid the rise of anti-LGBTQ+ legislation — particularly anti-trans laws — across the country.

“Our community represents a disproportionate number of the unhoused — people fleeing persecution, whether it be internationally, or at this point, nationally,” said Honey Mahogany, a transgender activist and the director of the San Francisco Office of Transgender Initiatives.

Mahogany said she has spoken with new residents in the Tenderloin, SoMa and Civic Center neighborhoods coming from states such as “Montana, West Virginia or Tennessee,” as well as “other parts of California,” which she noted is “not a monolith” despite its progressive reputation.

State legislatures have passed 47 anti-trans bills this year , according to the research group Trans Legislation Tracker, with 620 pieces of legislation introduced. The proposed laws cover issues such as access to athletics, bathrooms and health care.

Such legislation has even been introduced in California. Assembly Bill 1314 , introduced by four Republican lawmakers, would have required educators to notify parents or guardians if their children start to present as transgender or gender-nonconforming.

The bill died in committee, and Democratic supermajorities passed legislation earlier this year barring schools from requiring staff to inform parents of changes to students’ gender identity. The latter bill awaits Gov. Gavin Newsom’s signature.

“People are coming here to San Francisco, knowing and seeing that this is a safe space,” Mahogany said. “We have a trans district here, we have so many different services that are actually run by trans people and serve the trans community.”

Many of these organizations operate out of the Tenderloin, creating a concentration of services that includes food, housing and support groups. Founded in 2017, the Transgender District is one such organization. It encompasses six blocks in the southeastern Tenderloin and two blocks South of Market on 6th Street.

Mahogany, one of the district’s co-founders, said it offers a variety of programs for the community. She said it provides a space for trans folks to come together, build community and develop professionally, as well as practical resources like rental subsidies.

But it’s not just the neighborhood’s organizations and services that attract LGBTQ+ folks, Bradford said, it’s the sense of community itself.

“Before there was a Castro, there was the Tenderloin,” he said. “I think this neighborhood in particular was really important to the survival of the gay community, and making a safe space for folks.”

Bradford said the Tenderloin remains a safe space because not many people first arriving in The City can afford to set up in the Castro. Older members of the queer community who are lower-income might not feel as welcome there, either, he said.

“If you’re living in the SRO in the Tenderloin and you’re a senior or you’re disabled, and you’re living on SSI, maybe you don’t have as nice of clothes, or you don’t feel as attractive,” he said. “Those are the kind of barriers that keep folks from the bars in the Castro.”

The Tenderloin establishments are accepting of all, Bradford said, although there are fewer queer bars and clubs in the neighborhood than there used to be, particularly on lower Polk Street.

“We had some really nice bars that were wide open — you could look in the windows and see gay people sitting and eating and drinking and dancing,” he said. “But all those places got converted, shut down, and closed as part of that gentrification that was happening.”

Aunt Charlie’s Lounge at 133 Turk St. is an exception.

Manager Joe Mattheisen, who has worked at the bar since 1998, said he credits the bar’s longevity to the owner, William Erkelens, and the community’s support over the decades.

“It’s a no-hassle job, and I enjoy the customers — most of them,” he said.

The nearly 40-year-old bar almost closed permanently during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, but ot managed to stay afloat due to a GoFundMe campaign that raised more than $100,000.

While many of the bar’s longtime patrons are older members of the neighborhood’s LGBTQ+ community, Mattheisen said, he’s noticed some new blood in the mix lately.

“New kids are coming in a lot,” he said. “They don’t understand some of the things that went on years and years ago, so we still share stories about the past while looking forward to the future.”

Moving forward, Bradford said he hopes the Tenderloin’s queer community has a chance to grow and follow the example of those who came before them.

“The visible presence of an LGBTQ+ community in the neighborhood has dwindled,” he said. “But the people — the seniors, the trans folks, the disabled and the poor members of the LGBTQ+ community — they still live here.”