The vivid, rainbow flags, waving in the brisk San Francisco air, scream, “We are proud”. Rainbows painting the window of every cafe, supermarket, and store alike are delicately scattered with tiny raindrops that fell from the open, murky sky above. The atmosphere is bombarded with the sense of unity, but not only is the air flooded with the symbol of pride, but the streets too. Crosswalks, jaded with the paint of red, orange, green, and blue as pedestrians walk along, chatting with their friends. It’s like no other, the Castro, truly. History is etched into it’s very core; it is what shaped this city into the way it is now, open and accepting.
As I walk along the pavement, my dirty old vans dancing around the puddles threatening to soak my feet, I come across my true intent for coming to the Castro, The Harvey Milk museum. It’s challenging to notice from the outside, being as quaint as it is. It is so petite in fact, that unless you were going out of your way to find this particular museum, you probably wouldn’t be able to see it at all. …show more content…
From the minute you walk in, you can see almost the entire span of the museum. The concierge desk is to my left, holding a man on the slightly older side and a woman who appears to be younger, sporting some fabulous purple lipstick, standing up next to him. My mom pays as I notice, first thing to my left, pictures, hundreds of pictures. Dated magazine articles from the time Harvey Milk ran in office, pictures of transgender women from the 60’s and 70’s, pictures of men smiling next to each other, bills that were passed, and many other miscellaneous items all contained within the tiny confines of the colorful
As I walk along the pavement, my dirty old vans dancing around the puddles threatening to soak my feet, I come across my true intent for coming to the Castro, The Harvey Milk museum. It’s challenging to notice from the outside, being as quaint as it is. It is so petite in fact, that unless you were going out of your way to find this particular museum, you probably wouldn’t be able to see it at all. …show more content…
From the minute you walk in, you can see almost the entire span of the museum. The concierge desk is to my left, holding a man on the slightly older side and a woman who appears to be younger, sporting some fabulous purple lipstick, standing up next to him. My mom pays as I notice, first thing to my left, pictures, hundreds of pictures. Dated magazine articles from the time Harvey Milk ran in office, pictures of transgender women from the 60’s and 70’s, pictures of men smiling next to each other, bills that were passed, and many other miscellaneous items all contained within the tiny confines of the colorful