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Share on bskyIt’s come to my attention that certain media outlets have recently been painting a false picture of the truth when it comes to Portland, Oregon.
So, here is a first-hand account of what one person who lives in that city sees from their doorstep:
Stroll down your neighborhood street and scan your surroundings. Find a store you like and peer inside. Do you see that shiny red rose incased in a delicate crystal hood? It seems lilted, almost falling out of its encasement, but as you step closer you find that really what you are seeing is a shadow, a trick of the light, a phantom blemish, propaganda to the eyes.
Upon closer inspection, you realize that rose is as it was meant to be the day it was minted: strong, vibrant, unique, and just the right amount of faults and asymmetry to help you see its charm—for you to know it’s real.
Portland is that rose.
Looking through the glass of a shop and viewing various items for sale, you get a one-dimensional view of things—the price, sure, the glitter and the colorful packaging, the enticing words in large print, lots of exclamation points and very few descriptors.
What’s missing? You can’t hold it, you can’t feel it, you can’t smell it, and you certainly shouldn’t put it in your mouth. You have to go inside the shop to make the final decision to pull the trigger and buy. Because a well-formed, full picture is four dimensional.
Ten years in this city and I will tell you, the media has lied to you. Sweeping assumptions abound made off of false premises and inflammatory language. The kind of thing that has been copied and pasted to every other major city with a cause: Los Angeles, Chicago, Seattle.
Portland is quietly keeping the peace outside ICE facilitates—they have been for months. There are bubbles blown, onesies being worn, music to dance to, lights and sirens, but no violence, at least not from the city’s people. A bad apple here and there, but they are quick to feel the prick of disapproval and ultimately they leave, because they aren’t there for a cause.
At night, the crowd dwindles to handfuls. During the day, there may be marches but I’d liken those to parades. Powerful, loud, and peaceful. Crossing the bridges into the four quadrants, there are encampments, small fires, some garbage, and gun violence, but not any more or less than there has been for the last five years. COVID set everyone back; it hurt our economy and its most vulnerable, the first being low income and already-on-the-brink families and veterans who live paycheck to paycheck. They are being priced out of their own communities one by one. They are desperate.
All that to say, we are like most bigger cities and not without our faults. But don’t let them lie to you—it isn’t war ravaged, it isn’t on fire. And we don’t need the “help” of the military, over-policing, or masked, unidentified men to secret away our people. (And yes, that is happening.)
We don’t need flash bangs, less than lethal rounds shot directly into faces, or to be forced to the ground and hog tied like animals and then served federal charges under false pretenses. (Yes, that is happening too.)
We need dignitaries and local government officials to rise to the damn occasion and speak for their people. We need a leader of this country who will hear those people.
You can take my word for it, or you can come here and see it yourself. But don’t just peer through the glass—come inside and hold the rose in your hand.
It might not be perfect, but it’s ripe for the cause.
~
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