In light of recent developments regarding the closure on Hayes Street, we’re answering the two top questions we ask and have been asked as of late:
Who does a Supervisor really serve?
And have you even talked to Bilal about the closure?
Yes, we did. Once. It was a meeting that left the room stunned and the community even more demoralized.
What follows is our statement, written by a coalition that has been raising concerns about the Hayes Street closure since 2020. This isn’t spin. This isn’t a press stunt. This is the reality lived by neighbors and small business operators fighting once again to be heard.
We entered Supervisor Mahmood’s term hoping for a reset. While we had fundamental disagreements with his predecessor’s ideology on the closure, we at least had an open line of communication: regular check-ins, responsiveness, and a willingness to engage even when we didn’t agree.
With Mahmood, we were told he’d be different — a moderate, a listener, someone who would bring balance. But just four months in, that hope has already eroded. The truth is, what we’ve experienced in this short time under Bilal Mahmood has already outpaced the frustration and challenges we faced over the last four years under Dean Preston.
But perhaps the biggest letdown isn’t just what we’re up against, it’s how thoroughly we’ve been shut out. We’ve spent years organizing, researching, and communicating about this critical issue. We’ve come to the table with facts, firsthand knowledge, and good faith ideas (many of which we’ll be sharing in the days ahead as part of this ongoing series).
For Supervisor Mahmood and his office to be so dismissive of that work and to disregard those closest to the impact -is not just frustrating; it’s one of the most insulting experiences we’ve had since our advocacy began.
A dozen businesses showed up to share their struggles. The Supervisor walked away and hasn’t looked back.
We approached Supervisor Bilal Mahmood with urgent concerns about the damaging impacts of the Hayes Street closure hoping for leadership, dialogue, and accountability. Instead, our concerns fell on deaf ears.
A Supervisor is elected to represent everyone in their district. That means meeting with neighbors, responding to small businesses, and engaging with diverse stakeholders, not just those who hold the permit, control the narrative, or curate photo ops. But that’s not what’s happening here.
Instead, we’ve watched Supervisor Mahmood align himself with a single permit holder and a narrow ideological faction to push a permanent closure of Hayes Street without responding to our letters, without listening (despite claiming to be a “great listener” on the campaign trail), and without acknowledging the division this has caused in the very community he claims to serve.
And yes, we tried to meet. In mid-March, over a dozen business operators from Hayes Street and Octavia gathered for a scheduled one-hour meeting with the Supervisor…one store owner even calling in from Japan in the middle of the night in order to attend this critical meeting. Another looked him in the eye and said, “This closure broke me. I’m shutting down in Hayes Valley.” The Supervisor showed up late, dropped the bombshell that he was pursuing an “entertainment zone” designation, and left after at the half-hour mark. No follow-up. No plan. No acknowledgment of the raw and direct testimonies, warning signs, and honest pleas in the room. Just silence.
Let’s be clear: this isn’t governance. It’s gatekeeping.
When small businesses ask for help, they’re met with silence. When neighbors raise concerns, they’re treated as obstacles. When we ask for fair process, we’re framed as the problem. Meanwhile, the Supervisor lends his political capital to a deeply flawed initiative that has failed to meet basic permit conditions, fractured the community, and actively undermined commerce.
The role of a Supervisor is not to act as a spokesperson for the permit holder. It’s to ensure transparency, accountability, and balance. It’s to bring people together—not divide them into those worthy of access and those written off.
And yet, when it comes to Hayes Street, the priorities are crystal clear:
Appear at an event coordinated by the permit holder? ✔️
Respond to inquiries from concerned businesses? ❌
Meet with the people whose livelihoods are being impacted? ❌
Advance a dangerous precedent without real community dialogue? ✔️
This is not inclusive leadership. This is political favoritism, dressed up as vision.
What makes this moment even more alarming is that we’re not facing just one proposal—we’re confronting two simultaneous efforts that together threaten to reshape Hayes Valley without meaningful consent:
- The push to designate the corridor as an “entertainment zone,” introducing a radically different atmosphere: open container allowances, festival-style programming, and events disconnected from the needs of commerce.
- A quiet but determined effort to make the street closure permanent, despite clear evidence of harm and a lack of consensus.
Together, these efforts form a double blow to Hayes Valley’s identity as a balanced, business serving corridor.
We didn’t elect a Supervisor to amplify the loudest megaphone. We elected one to serve the entire neighborhood even when that means having uncomfortable conversations, acknowledging harm, or reevaluating a policy mistake.
If our elected leaders are unwilling to engage with those who have been sounding the alarm (and for those just tuning in, we’ve been advocating for the reopening of Hayes Street since the fall of 2020) then who exactly are they serving? What message does that send to those with leases to manage, staff to pay, and storefronts to keep open?
This is a moment of reckoning.
The people of Hayes Valley Proper are not going to be erased from this conversation. We are not props. We are not fringe. We are residents, small business owners, workers, and neighbors who deserve better.
And if our Supervisor won’t lead with integrity and accountability, then the community will hold the line—for fairness, transparency, and the future of Hayes Valley.