Inside-Out at RAN's Office

The 5th Floor

I take the ferry from Larkspur in the North Bay to get to RAN’s downtown San Francisco office. Pulling away from the Larkspur Ferry Building, I can see Mt. Tamalpais and the hills surrounding the towns of Corte Madera, Greenbrae, Kentfield and San Rafael. They’re green and plump with trees. The fog is dark grey. I’ve always loved the contrast of fog and treed hills. These hills are protected from development by their pleasing aesthetic and subsequent property value. To me, they represent an excess of wealth, resources to spare. I don’t worry about erosion or poor soil quality. My home is not situated on polluted land. There’s no strip mining, industrial farming or commercial logging within Marin County, the place where I have spent most of my life.

Within a few moments, I’m looking at the notorious San Quentin State Prison. It preceded the Golden Gate Bridge and thus the influx of suburbs and wealth. It is entirely out of place. Men dressed in orangish scrubs are milling about. One is sitting on a corrugated metal pipe smoking a cigarette. Most of the inmates that I can see are Hispanic or African-American. Passing next to the main prison building, I realize it’s quite large. The external walls have a fresh coat of paint. That’s nice – the place is taken care of. The ferry cruises onward and I realize that only the walls facing the road are painted; the paint on the other walls has lost the battle to ease the harshness of concrete. The prison sits across the bay from Chevron’s Oil refinery in Richmond. The refinery emits often illegal levels of particulate into the air. Is it a coincidence that Richmond is 80% ethnic minorities and one of the poorest communities in the Bay Area?

After passing Angel Island, and yet another prison, Alcatraz, the Ferry Pulls into the downtown Ferry building. The financial district looms. The buildings are larger than life. Hundreds of people in formal attire are marching across the embarcadero. These people are bankers, economists, businessmen, insurance salesmen, and so forth. Everyone seems like an executive to me. I just spent four months riding my bicycle across the northwest. I’m 24 and still relatively fresh out of college. I majored in Yoga at a Buddhist University. I believe in the value of human connection, and community. I think, perhaps naively, that humanity’s obsessive conquest of the earth for wealth, comforts, abundance, and security is beginning to cause more problems than it solves. I take in the hustle and bustle of the financial district – am I out of place? Where do I belong in this?

I get off the elevator on the fifth floor of 221 Pine St. and into the office of Rainforest Action Network. I’m greeted by potted tropical plants in an oddly humid and warm room. I hear conversations, shuffling of papers and faint music. People are sitting at computers and talking on phones. Some are discussing strategies for implementing campaigns, some are updating RAN’s website, and others are sorting out the many donations coming into RAN from all over the world. People are dressed casually and are surprisingly relaxed. This place is an oasis of authenticity and a miraculous respite from the disconnecting façade of the financial district.

I’ve never held any position in an office before, let alone the office of a major environmental group like RAN. This place is really that, an office. For some reason I imagined dreadlocked anarchists beneath a haze of sage smudge planning huge demonstrations. After sitting in on some different meetings and getting to know some people in the office, I have a more accurate understanding. In fact, there’s a word that describes people at RAN. It’s not that people at RAN are just intelligent, and witty, they’re quite normal. People are simply working. For some, this is just a job. For others, RAN represents hopes for a different world. A world that is more just and equitable. I want to help. I want to see that world and thus must take some action. I am given my own desk with a computer and a name tag. It’s official. I’m a volunteer at RAN.

I’m mostly helping out with the Rainforest Agribusiness Campaign. However, I’m doing anything that anyone needs me to do in hopes that I can ‘make a difference’. My intent with this blog post is just to provide an outsider’s perspective on the inner workings of RAN, which many people may never see.