 Hi everyone. Thank you all so much for being here. Thank you, Shizue, for your vision and to all the fellow contributors It's an honor to both share the stage and the page with you. My name is Karina Muñez-Pagan I am a queer Chicana fourth generation San Franciscan and I Create a nonfiction fiction writer and a community organizer. I Returned one summer from college in Chicago eager to intern at a local organization. I discovered global exchange online Sitting in our school's computer lab getting used to how this new phenomenon called the internet worked Located on the corner of 16th admission global exchange gave me my first vantage point into social justice in the Bay Area When I arrived my first day, I saw Zapatista dolls and a poster on the wall of subcomandante Marcos a few months prior to my internship Mexican paramilitary massacred indigenous women and children inside a church in Actial as a Brutal tactic to annihilate any resistance against the government in the Chiapas region It barely made the news in the US a Call from local groups for human rights observers to arrive bear witness and disseminate what was happening was in full force But the Mexican government was deporting international observers fast That summer between protests media pitches and US Congress sign-on letters I worked with the team to keep the observers there and bring visibility to Chiapas and indigenous rights My understanding of San Francisco activism had been peripheral at best Now with my first protest under my belt and successful legislative advocacy. I found myself part of it. I Was getting to know the city on my own terms outside of my family My paid work that summer was tempting as a reception receptionist in the financial district a stark contrast from my internship One day Charlie in the mail room invited me to Puerto Alegre on 16th and Valencia also in the mission I had my fake ID just in case the ones my friends and I all got on an ice cream shop on Market Street in high school It worked at most bars and clubs in Chicago Puerto's clientele over 20 years ago was not the new Valencia that can be seen today All those cheese and chocolate shops were nowhere in sight You all know what I'm talking about Willy who co-owned Puerto Alegre with his siblings told me his grandparents had owned the family business Now one of the oldest Mexican restaurants in the city Their secret margarita recipe and a framed photograph of them above the bar is still part of the establishment today Willy often stood behind the bar and worked his multitasking magic Stirring and shaking here and there pouring just the right amount of tequila Salting the glasses refilling the pitcher The smell of Agave Azul grilled shrimp tacos and fried tortilla chips filled the restaurant Norma who also worked there would sing mariachi impeccably after the restaurant closed and the jukebox was free range Partiola 100% chingona her smile was bright and bold and Then there was Antonio in his mid 70s a chunky afro boricua transplant who wore a cringy blue t-shirt that said Viagra works Despite the appearances he had a lot of wisdom to share about his years between Puerto Puerto Rico New York and San Francisco His murals covered the walls below the pitcher of Willy's grandparents And then I knew Puerto had really become my cheers when I made the cut on one of the murals Antonio made of all the locals at the bar. I had found my people Thank you