Storied: San Francisco
In Part 2, Aft joins us to chat about the band—Top Chefs. We start with the story of how TJ met Aft. A mutual friend of his and Loveberry’s, Lucas Hanson, put on a show at DNA Lounge called “Liam Berry and Friends.” TJ was just getting out of high school at the time. They asked him to join them on stage, something he’d never really done before. TJ had been playing smaller sets in restaurants, but joining a band at a bona fide venue was new for him. Loveberry (Liam) had met Aft at something called a “sound gig” for a set they would play as part of the effort to keep People’s...
info_outlineStoried: San Francisco
There’s a band in San Francisco comprising musicians from The City and whom I discovered on social media playing shows on a stoop here in SF. I can’t quite be sure when I discovered them, or whether it was me or my wife, but either way, right from the start, we knew we’d stumbled upon something special. Something truly unique. Something joyful, beautiful, free … something for the people. People could gather around with neighbors, some they know, some they might be meeting for the first time. Community is something of a buzz word lately, especially in light of things like...
info_outlineStoried: San Francisco
In Part 2, we begin with Todd and me rapping about how much digital technology has changed just in our lifetimes. Even when he was in school in Colorado, San Francisco had been a goal for Todd, a destination. He got his impression of The City from skateboarding magazines and TV shows. But before moving here, Todd went to Europe, as he puts it, “chasing a girl.” He even tried living overseas. When that didn’t work out, he moved back to Grand Rapids to save money. In 2001, he made the big move west. When Todd arrived, he had a job already lined up for him. He just needed to find a place...
info_outlineStoried: San Francisco
Todd Kurnat is everywhere. In this episode, meet and get to know Todd. These days, he’s also known as for his art and DJ Circuit 73 for his musical stylings. We begin in Michigan. Both sets of Todd’s grandparents grew up in Greenville, Michigan, about an hour outside Grand Rapids. His parents met in high school in that small town. They eventually moved to Grand Rapids, the big city in that part of the world. His dad worked at a transportation company and his mom was a nurse at St. Mary’s Hospital. It was the early Seventies—around 1972 or so. Todd was born in 1973. His mom had done...
info_outlineStoried: San Francisco
Listen in as I chat with German Gonzalez, musical conductor and principal director of the , now in its 144th year. We recorded this podcast in Golden Gate Park in June 2026.
info_outlineStoried: San Francisco
In Part 3, we hear from Keiko and Michael about the history of the . In the late-1950s, a San Franciscan named R.G. Davis taught a class in movement—mime, dance, physical interpretation of stories … that sort of thing. A performing troupe sprang out of that class, and it was known as the R.G. Davis Mime Troupe. It was the era of the early Civil Rights and Anti-War movements, and the troupe became more and more political, basing much of their work around social issues of the day. The group started off doing silent mime work, but shifted later. Michael offers us the definition of mime at...
info_outlineStoried: San Francisco
Both sides of Michael Gene Sullivan’s family are from Detroit. In Part 2, we get to know Keiko’s fellow member. Michael was born in Livonia, Michigan, a small town outside of Detroit. His parents met at a summer camp, but we need to rewind a bit before we get to that. When his dad was a boy, he was kidnapped. Yes, really. He and his brothers, all Black boys, were taken from Detroit to work on a plantation in Louisiana. One day, three years later, a car pulled up to the plantation. Some people got out of the car, grabbed Michael’s dad and uncles, and threw them into the car (not minding...
info_outlineStoried: San Francisco
Keiko Shimosato Carreiro was born in the Bay Area … the Boston Bay Area. In Part 1 of this episode, meet Keiko. Today, she’s a longtime member of the collective. But her story goes back to her parents’ migration to the US from Japan after World War II. Keiko’s dad got a Fulbright scholarship to come to this country. He studied medicine. Her mom came to visit the US for one year, but in that time, met Keiko’s dad at a Japan Society picnic in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Two weeks after they met, her dad proposed, and roughly a year later, they had their first child—Keiko, named thusly...
info_outlineStoried: San Francisco
In Part 2, we pick up where we left off in Part 1. While in college at Marymount, Theo ran the Boys and Girls Club program with Phillip Redd. He liked the connections and impact he had made in SoCal, and wondered whether he could do the same at home. This was back when Barack Obama was first running for president, and there was a prevailing sense of hope and possibility pervading life for a lot of folks. And so Theo moved back home. He transferred to Notre Dame de Namur in Belmont after his sophomore year, and got a degree there three years later. Upon his arrival in The City and...
info_outlineStoried: San Francisco
Today, Theo Ellington is the secretary at the Ruth Williams Opera House. This born-and-raised San Franciscan is also running to be the next D10 supervisor. In Part 1 of this episode, meet Theo. His maternal grandfather, Clifton Weeks, came to SF because his sister, Marie Weeks (Theo's great-aunt), had come here. Clifton and his sister had grown up in rural Natchez, Mississippi, but they came out West during the Great Migration. Their first landing spot was The Fillmore. Clifton found work as a laborer, where he helped build roads and bridges. He also did a little work at the shipyard back...
info_outlineIn Part 2, we pick up right where we left off in Part 1, with Gina’s first official address in San Francisco.
In talking about finding a place to live in The City, Gina mentions that all her friends either live in rent-control apartments they’ve been in forever, or they’re able to live in a place that someone in their family bought and has kept in the family. When she tells me where that first apartment in SF was, I let her know that my first place here, back in 2000, was less than a block away. As we’re name-dropping hotspots on the block, I have a brain fart and can’t remember the name of Cordon Bleu, the rad greasy-spoon Vietnamese joint still there on California near Polk.
From that first apartment, Gina would take Muni to her job over in Potrero Hill. Back then, in the days before smartphones, she’d read on her long, chill Muni rides. She’d come home, make dinner with her roommate, and maybe head out to Polk Street or for karaoke in the hood.
That AmeriCorp VISTA gig lead to a job doing literacy work. At that part-time job, Gina also started doing events. She also ran a non-profit dance company, and was trying her best to make both things work out for her.
We step back to talk about Funkanometry SF, Gina’s dance company. It started in LA, moved north, and the founders handed Gina the keys, so to speak. That happened in Gina’s senior year at Berkeley. Because the dancers she was directing were older and more experienced, and because she had literally no experience running a non-profit or a business, she went to Barnes and Noble to buy a copy of a book from the “For Dummies” series.
In Gina’s time running it, Funkanometry took off. They received invitations to perform internationally, to places like the Philippines, the UK, and Colombia. On the back end, Gina figured out a way to pay herself $600 a month. She felt like she’d made it. Despite all those successes, though, the company didn’t make money.
The low-paying, part-time job and non-profit dance company was fun, but it wasn’t meant to last. She got hit up on LinkedIn by a recruiter for Google and got an interview. Gina had reservations and talked with her mom about them. Lillian told her to daughter to go and listen to what they have to say, and so that’s what Gina did. After the interview, she still didn’t know if it was a good fit, but she accepted the offer regardless. She was now a software engineering recruiting coordinator at Google.
To get to work, Gina took the infamous Google bus. As someone from The Bay who already had immense pride in her city, she felt ashamed. The money was good, but standing in line to wait for the hated busses felt bad. When cars or pedestrians passed by while she waited, she wanted to let them know that she wasn’t “one of those people,” that she’s from here and runs a non-profit dance company. It didn’t matter. Her internalized shame remained, but she says the job was fun enough to make up for it.
That Google contract job turned into full-time work, and Gina stayed at the company for seven years. During this time, Gina met and started dating a San Franciscan who grew up in the Inner Richmond. They got engaged and Gina moved to that hood. She still worked at Google and now waited for their corporate bus in a chiller area with fewer protests.
Then Gina’s family suffered a tragic loss. One of her first cousins died by suicide. She says the experience “broke [her] family open,” meaning it obviously hurt them all, but it also brought them closer. It made waiting for the Google bus that much more impossible for Gina, too. She’d moved into a new role at the company and was doing events for them. She decided it was time to branch out on her own and do what she loves.
She was able to go part-time while launching her own events company. She’d tried to quit, but Google asked her to stay on. It ended up serving her well, as it provided some needed income while she undertook all the stuff it takes to start a company from scratch. The first event she produced under her new moniker, Make It Mariko, was Undiscovered SF, which began in 2017 as the first Filipino night market in SOMA.
The first Undiscovered SF was such a success that it inspired Gina to transition Make It Mariko to her full-time work. The stories goes like this: A friend let her know about the nonprofit SOMA Pilipinas. She met with those folks and pitched a launch event. They applied for and received a $5K grant to do the event. A friend was able to wrangle $150K on top of that. That one launch event turned into six events, spaced out one per month.
In 2020, Undiscovered SF went virtual. Gina had her tech background, and they had plenty of time to transition. This allowed them to connect Filipinos across the diaspora, sitting on panels and interacting with one another. And of course, there were DJs from all over.
Prior to the pandemic, in addition to many other kinds of events, Make It Mariko had quite a lot of corporate event-planning business. Since COVID, though, a lot of that went away. Gina decided she wasn’t gonna sit around and wait for big events to hire her company. She wanted to build on the success of self-produced events like Undiscovered. The seeds of what became POC Food and Wine were planted.
Gina loves wine. During the pandemic, she got a scholarship to join a wine program where she was able to dive into that world. One of the topics was pairing, and so she was able to take that knowledge and apply it to the POC Food and Wine Festival, pairing POC chefs with specific wines and other beverages. Attendees were encouraged, but not required, to navigate the space and its makers along the lines laid out for them by Gina and her staff. I’ll just say: It was one of the best, most unique experiences I’ve had in my 26 years here in the Bay Area.
We end the episode with me letting Gina know how much I also enjoyed this year’s Love Thy City event, which took place in February. It was to celebrate Make It Mariko’s 10th anniversary and to establish a relationship with The Foundary space in South of Market. The love (right there in the name) that night was palpable—love of San Francisco, of community, of one another.
All of these events—Undiscovered, POC Food and Wine Festival, Love Thy City—for me show how dedicated Gina and her people are to uplifting real people doing extraordinary things.
Find Gina all over the place, really:
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Brave New Spaces, whose goal is to help creatives eventually own their spaces
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Make It Mariko, her events company
Photography Mason J.