By Sitara Nieves

SIXTH STREET BOOKS and Café (144 Sixth St., S.F. 415-626-8969) opened last September with signs in the window that read, "No money, no problem. Loitering encouraged." The store's commitment to education, community, and activism immediately won my heart.

Sixth Street is known as the daily papers' excuse to rail about miscreants, drug dealers, and the homeless. But owner Tommy Seiler doesn't see people here that way, and all are welcome in his store.

Once inside, the din, smells, grime, and catcalls of Sixth Street fall away, and it feels like you've walked through a secret closet door into Narnia. The store is full of people playing cards and chess, eating well, reading, and shooting the shit with Seiler, who seems to know everyone's name, along with what they're reading. Seiler is in the back, offering cheap homemade chili and coffee and advising people on the best introduction to anarchism, or whatever topic is thrown his way.

"I was inspired by people like Emma Goldman, who believed that good comes from bottom-up organizing," Seiler said, talking about why he was driven to open a bookstore in a location like Sixth Street. "I wanted to create this as a meeting place that makes enough money to pay the bills – but that also creates a place of refuge and resources."

True to its bottom-up mission, the store has hosted a variety of community events, including a legal rights workshop and an Anarchist People of Color benefit, among others. Folk band Folk This! plays once a month.

But Seiler worries that not enough people know about the space. Lani Riccobuono, a local Bay Area activist and anti-prison organizer, shares that concern: "The store is a huge asset that's totally underutilized for meetings and events. And that's a shame because Seiler is really supportive of all organizing that's going on in the Bay Area."

I sat in on a card game with five regulars. Between hands, local resident and photographer Nappy Chin mused, "Seiler thinks of the community when he does things. This is a safe space – a place for all kinds of people to interact with each other and build relationships."

"I'm more relaxed in this place than I am in S.F. Public Library," fellow card player and smooth talker Samuel Stewart added.

"The selection of books is really amazing," Riccobuono raved. "There's not a lot of other places where you can find the titles the store carries, and every time I go in there with friends, they get really excited when they see what's on the shelves."

Seiler buys remainder books – those that are deep, political, and essential. Wandering Seiler's store is an education in what you know you should be reading; sections include "Anarchism and the Spanish Revolution," "Prisons, Drug War, and Police," "Politics, Theory, and Economics," and "Labor Unions and Workers."

Remainders mean that books are cheap – $5 to $10 for new books, and cheaper for used. Even a broke lass like myself could afford to feed on politics, theory, and history. No one is ever turned away from a book. Even if these prices are beyond your budget, all you need to do is walk across the room to Seiler's well-stocked lending library, which he makes available to anyone who has some form of identification.

Seiler has big plans for the store – as long as he can keep it running. Almost everything he owns has been sold to keep the store afloat – including his van. He recently got a license to open a café, which will help, but he admits to having serious money troubles.

That doesn't surprise people I spoke with in the neighborhood. "This is a disenfranchised area," the store's neighbor Rodney Mitchell told me from behind his desk at the Bayanihan Community Center. "You've got to have a lot of tolerance and drive to operate a business here."

Seiler's got that. "I want this to be an organizing center – a place for direct democracy," Seiler said. "Somewhere where working-class people can afford to buy great books. Somewhere where people mix."

"Nothing is permanent on Sixth Street – the only things that seem to survive around here are the pawnshops and the liquor stores," Nappy Chin said. "If this place wasn't around, it'd be a real sad loss – it just does so many things and gives the community so much."