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My Turn by Marie Lo

From The Asian Reporter, V19, #36 (September 15, 2009), page 6.

When I first arrived in Portland, I was pleasantly surprised by the city’s progressive ideals. I knew very little about Portland, but I liked its commitment to sustainable practices, careful urban planning, and its public transportation system. I was inspired by the miles and miles of bike-friendly streets and the city’s DIY spirit.

One thing that has been difficult — maybe because of the city’s progressive investments — has been to open productive dialogues about discrimination. Perhaps bringing it up threatens to undermine the progressive image Portland has of itself. I’m not entirely sure. But when I heard about a tour of its hidden discrimination past, I jumped at the chance to see the underbelly of liberal Portland.

The tour of Portland’s hidden discrimination history, dubbed "Fasten Your Seat Belts — It’s Been a Bumpy Ride," debuted in 2008 and is run by the Fair Housing Council of Oregon. For my particular trip on September 2, the council partnered with the Lawyers’ Campaign for Equal Justice to combine housing discrimination history with legal history.

Diane Hess, the education director of the Fair Housing Council, was our guide, illuminating the various stops and sites along the way. Lawyers Diane Schwartz Sykes and Cashauna Hill provided insights on past and current discrimination cases. Presenters Ed Washington, the community liaison for Diversity Initiatives at Portland State University (PSU), and Valerie Otani, a Portland-based public artist, offered first-hand accounts of discrimination.

Against the backdrop of what was once the city of Vanport, now dry yellow fields bisected by empty roads, Washington told of the 1948 flood and his family’s escape. He brought to life the community that had existed there, rendering the loss and dispossession even more devastating. Otani, creator of the traditional Japanese gates at the Portland Expo Center, described the World War II experiences of Japanese-American families who were corralled there. While she spoke, metal plates strung across the gates shimmered and chimed in the wind. Each plate represents an internee housed at the center.

As we drove through the various neighborhoods, which included my own of Boise Elliot, what struck me was how these sites of discrimination were not invisible or in out-of-the-way locations. They were hidden in plain sight, and through the darkened windows of the tour bus I became a tourist in my own city.

PGE Park, formerly Civic Stadium, was the site of huge Ku Klux Klan rallies in the 1920s. From 1879 to 1910, south of Burnside and west of 14th Avenue, were more than 21 acres of communally owned terraced vegetable gardens tended by Chinese immigrants. They were initially forced there by anti-Chinese laws that allowed them to settle only in certain areas. From 1919 to 1952, the Portland Realty Board Code of Ethics prevented its members from selling property in white neighborhoods to African Americans and Asians, restricting them to inner north and northeast Portland. Up north, just off Lombard, is the Del Monte plant where in 2004 workers were illegally fired for complaining of safety and work violations. These are just some of the "highlights" of the tour.

The most powerful moment was when our bus stopped at the corner of S.E. Pine Street and S.E. 31st Avenue. It is the ubiquity and mundane quality of this neighborhood street that sends chills down my spine: a tree-lined street and a boxy three-story brick apartment complex at the corner. On the ground floor is a row of garage doors. Just outside these doors is the spot where on November 12, 1988 Mulugeta Seraw, a 28-year-old Ethiopian student at PSU, was bludgeoned to death by white supremacists. Today, there is a nondescript car parked in the driveway. There is no hint that a young life was brutally ended, no memorial to mark his family’s and a community’s loss.

Calling it a tour of Portland’s discrimination history suggests all these events took place a long time ago, and that we have progressed and moved on. It may be tempting to point to our current president as a sign of the end of discrimination. But, it might be precisely these kinds of victories against injustice, discrimination, and inequality that have mobilized a resurgent militia movement and a steady increase in hate groups. According to 2008 figures from the Southern Poverty Law Center, hate groups have increased by 54 percent since 2000. The center also says the growing number of immigrants, the faltering economy, and Obama’s election have fuelled the increase in membership.

What started out as a tour of Portland’s hidden discrimination history became, in some ways, an act of commemoration at sacred sites — sites shaped by dispossession and pain as well as endurance and resilience. Commemoration connects us to the past and acknowledges how our current freedoms are a legacy of early struggles. This hidden history is everywhere around us, and there is still work to be done.