What Black Portland Means To Me | Race & Religion

By the time I was in college I looked back on my childhood life and didn’t like what I saw. I only saw the rejections, the name calling, the non invites, the bullying and the times I often cried alone, which I didn’t know was depression at the time. But there really was so much more. Since the passing of my father, I’ve been on a healing journey that I didn’t even know I needed and while I know that everything I experienced as a child wasn’t bad these healing eyes have been able to see even more of the good and intentional moments. You ever listen to other people talking about their childhood, upbringing, the community they came from and think, man that sure sounds nice. Well, it wasn’t all perfect but I look back on my upbringing and my community and realize wow, actually, there were some pretty nice moments and a pretty decent foundation. With therapy and prayer I look back on my childhood and can see something much different and much more intentional. 

I don’t think I really knew that I was in a white state until someone said so. Don’t get me wrong I saw the white people, but I also saw a lot of Asians, Hispanics and us, Black folk. It wasn’t until someone cracked a joke, or shared a disheartening fact or sentiment about white people that I’d remember oh yeah, they just keep mistreating us. But I think I probably thought that’s how the rest of America was. Blacks are minorities, white people are the majority because they brought us over here, case closed. Not realizing until I got older, that there were other states with larger populations of Black folks who don’t necessarily see themselves as a minority. The thing is, I just didn’t see the fact that I was in a white state, or chose to forget from time to time, because I saw Black people everywhere I went. My school had Black children, my church had black people, the people my parents associated with were Black so I didn’t see a problem, not really. 

Except there were problems. Maybe it didn’t feel like I was in a white state until much later, but I was reminded that I lived in a white country for sure. There were moments and interactions that reminded me. Like watching TV with my mom and every time a commercial like Shout’s laundry detergent played a Black song as the under-bed, my mother was sure to mention every time, “they never wanted to play our music or acknowledge it and now they’re playing it to sell they’re products. Hmm Hm Hm,” while shaking her head. Or moments like being in the bathroom with the other girls at school putting gel and Pink Lotion on my freshly pressed hair for 4th grade school pictures. The way my hair reverted back kinky and the looks on their faces told me, you're different from us, even some of the other Black girls. Or the fact that Black kids seemed to be held back more than white ones when I was growing up. And when they tried to do that with me, my mother stepped in and said no, the devil is a liar.  So moments and interactions like these snapped me back into reality, reminding me that I was a Black girl in a white state. But I know other Black people from Portland may have a different sentiment, they remembered all along. This is just my recollection. 

From where I was sitting, the Black community had different organizations that allowed it to thrive. Firstly the Black church. Yup even in white Portland Oregon, the Black church had managed to make its way in, build its way up and sustain many Black families. The church I was a part of was Fellowship Missionary Baptist Church with pastor Johnny Pack the 3rd as the lead pastor. And when I tell y'all I was the weird child that loved church, I loved church. It wasn’t the choir singing, which was amazing, it wasn’t the testimonies towards the end of the service, and it wasn’t even the children's church, because sometimes I would get shy, what did it for me, was listening to the preacher preach. I loved it. Because I love God and he was my friend. I loved learning more about God and how he was making all things right but strangely as a little girl, I often thought of the things that were going wrong and thought how can we fix this. So knowing that God had made a way and was still making a way was my kind of party. Weird, I know. But it’s the truth. I loved going to church. Black churches in Portland, Oregon, like many across the nation, where stables in the Black community, which includes its involvement during the Civil Rights Movement. During World War II the population of Portland was about 350,000. Approximately 20,000 of them were Black, jumping from 2,000 in the previous years due job opening in the shipyard industry. However, this number dropped after the war. But somehow Black folks, like we always do, push pass the minority rhetoric and we build a name for ourselves. The Black church wasn’t the only thing sustaining Blacks in Portland there where other organizations as well. 

I was pretty active as a kid, although I know others who did much more than I did. In elementary school I was a part of my grandmother's deal team, Sabin Drill Team. You read right, my grandmother led a drill team for my elementary school. We participated in parades like the Rose Festival parade and to my recollection we placed pretty well, from year to year. My aunt also led a drill team for Whitaker Middle School. I also participated in the National Youth Sports Camp (NYSP Camp) summer after summer. Other similar programs were also available like the The Boys and Girls club, The Debutants, which are both not unique to Portland alone, but others like Self Enrichment Inc. (SEI) and The Bridge Builders are. 

SEI, started out in 1981 as a weekly sports program for African American teens and has since grown to be a staple in the Black community that services the youth all year round in many facets. I always wanted to be a part of SEI and knew many people who were a part of it and somehow it never happened for me. By the time I got to high school though, I could finally be a part of The Bridge Builders. One of my older cousins and my older brother were in the program as well and by the time I was in high school they opened the program to young women. The Bridge builders was a rites of passage organization founded by Kevin Fuller, that ran two programs by the time I joined, The Prospective Gents Club, for young men and the Imminent Ladies of Virtue, for young women. It prided itself on education, scholarship, community building and African proverbs. Going through this program meant a lot to me, it championed so many things I was learning and already stood for. It was in that program I got named DTM ‘doing the most’, because I love what others would call ‘extra’, but what I call representation and intentionality or in an ‘artsy fartsy’ term, double entendre, on the surface seems like one thing but actually has deep meaning. I got so excited when I learned there was deeper meaning behind, well anything. When I would write as a little girl I would have a deeper meaning for the things I wrote not knowing I was doing it. So when the program came around and while others felt like certain things we had to learn or do didn’t require ‘all that’, I secretly and at times outwardly love it! I felt like, finally, some substance about things I care about. African heritage, Black history, community and yes church. Once a month we gathered together to attend church as a community and even participated in the leading of the service. The Bridge Builders took us on Black Historic college tours and learned more about HBCUs, Historically Black Colleges. They even held events where graduates of the program who were currently at HBCUs, talked about their experiences in college, which is where I learned more about my alma mater, Morgan State University. This organization sought out to remind Black youth of where they came from and where they were doing. From what I can remember, there wasn’t much mention of white people, what we couldn't accomplish or the tragedies of Black people in Portland. I don’t remember there being a focus on past negative encounters of Black in Portland and maybe that was a good thing. 

My mother was born and raised in Portland but had southern roots like most Black people not originally from the south. Her parents were from Georgia and had two children there. They later moved to Portland and my mother was the second to be born in Portland. My mother told me stories of seeing the KKK march down the street, or hearing white men call her father ‘boy’. She had a much different experience than me. I wonder what took place that allowed Portland to not only have residence here but to go from my mother's experience of knowing you're in a white state, to not really noticing it as much per my experience. Maybe it’s just me and my perception but even if you disagree with my view of  my upbringing, one can’t miss the fact that Portland when from being a town that once banned Blacks from living there let alone run any operations, to having Black churches, youth development programs and organizations that children could choose from. That’s a vast difference! And that’s where the wonder comes in. What took place that allowed that type of progression to happen? I’m not saying everything was all good in the hood and racism, gentrification and the displaced and relocating of Black folks didn’t happen, because it unfortunately did. I’m just pointing out that a huge contrast took place that allowed me to be a Black Girl From Portland of all places. Shameless plug, I have a film called Black Girl from Portland. 

So when I ask the question, what does Black Portland mean to you? My personal answer is:  Black folks who were brought up on Jesus in the black church, community minded and wanting to help the youth. 

What does black Portland mean to you? 

It’s no surprise that sports is a popular activity in the black community here in Portland, the state being a hub for athleticism. My mother and her sisters ran track in high school. My cousins and I ran track in high school and in fact my uncle was a track coach. Leon McKenzie. And his wife, a former body builder, led a cheer leader and drill team. She also raised her girls to be beauty queens and other girls who wanted to be part of the action. One of their daughters even went on to become Miss Oregon. This is just a taste of Black Excellence that thrives in Portland. Although we are a forgotten state when it comes to Black folks, we’ve really been doing our thing. I even want to say as a Christian, the faith in Christ is forgotten in Portland as well. But I digress, that’s a blog for a different day.  The Black Church, Black organization and program are the shoulders I stand on and will forever be grateful for. But I worry if the youth of today experience that or understand any of that at all. 

This blog has gone on much longer than I was expecting so I’ll close with one more question. When I’m visiting Portland as I haven’t been a resident in years, it saddens me to see such a lack of energy, care, want, interest in…anything it seems. A few years ago I thought of doing an event that would bring the experience I had in college and thereafter to Portland so that the youth could see, touch and feel that there's more to their lives if only the right opportunity was in front of them. Maybe I’ll still do that one day. But for now, I’m asking, are the Black youth of Portland supported with programs, organizations, and churches like the shoulders I once stood on?