The Weekly Way (5/21/21)
A Midwestern Perspective on the Way
Joe Beach is editor and publisher of the Capital Press, and editor of The Other Oregon magazine. He is temporarily editing The Oregon Way.
I‘m not a native Oregonian. I came to Salem in 2008 from Illinois to work at the Capital Press, a newspaper that covers agriculture and natural resource issues in the Pacific Northwest.
The prairie from where I came is beautiful in a subtle way, and does not provide the scenic sensory overload I experienced with each mile I drove between Ontario and Salem. There is nothing at home that compares to Mount Hood or the Columbia Gorge. There is no city in Illinois that has the same vibe as Portland.
I quickly discovered that there is something else different about Oregon.
Midwesterners are a taciturn people who keep their feelings to themselves. Our pride in our states goes without saying, as does just about everything else. But Oregonians talk freely about “The Oregon Way” and “Oregon values.” A sensory overload.
Oregon is as much a state of mind as it is a physical place. But it is a state of mind that is very much in the eye of the beholder.
Over the years I’ve tried to understand The Oregon Way. It’s been described to me as an idea that practical political solutions can be found by embracing the best ideas without regard to their origin. “Left isn’t good, right isn’t good — good is good.”
A lot of people who I’ve talked to about this speak of The Oregon Way in wistful terms, citing the bygone statesmanship of legendary politicians such as Tom McCall and Mark Hatfield.
Contemporary examples seem to be in short supply. What was the last big idea born on one side of the aisle that was adopted and raised by the other?
I don’t think Oregon has one way, or one set of values. It has 4 million people, each with their own perception of these things. These feelings hang on perspective. Perspective is shaped by context — the circumstances that form one’s view.
Therein, I think, lies the divide. Everyone sees something different.
Maybe the greatness of Hatfield and McCall came from an ability to see problems and solutions from other peoples’ points of view — a much wider field of vision than most of us possess. Maybe that’s the key to The Oregon Way.
To read:
Last week came the news that farmers in the Klamath Basin will receive no irrigation water this season, a crippling blow to agriculture and the economy of the region. So this post by Julie O’Shea and Dan Keppen about the need to invest in water infrastructure was timely:
More than three-fourths of Oregon was in some stage of drought entering May — and forecasters expect it to stay that way into the summer. Farmers in recent weeks have witnessed dust storms in Oregon and blowing dust in eastern Washington, and river flows have dropped well below normal. The challenge isn’t limited to just the Pacific Northwest: farmers, ranchers, and river systems throughout the West are going to be hit hard by this year’s drought.
Perhaps the only silver lining is that the solution to create a resilient water supply for food, farms and fish already exists. However, the drought underscores the urgent need to take immediate action to help better manage impacts to water resources from drought, and to accelerate the pace and scale at which we are modernizing irrigation systems throughout the West.
Race and diversity are issues that have been in the forefront over the last year or so. DHM Research’s John Horvick had an interesting post this week on racial diversity in the state:
Perhaps the demographic question that I get ask most about now is race. There is a growing desire among Oregonians to better understand the history of race in the state and how race continues to shape our lives and communities. And when I give presentations to groups about Oregon’s demographics no statistic is more surprising than the geography of race. Because while it is well known that there are more people of color who live in the Portland metro area than other places, rarely is it appreciated that some of the state’s most racially diverse communities are in rural Oregon.
On Tuesday, Sabbath Rain Mikelson lost her bid to become a commissioner for the Port of Columbia. But, as even as the votes were being counted, the 24-year-old novice candidate made it clear that Gen. Z isn’t satisfied sitting on the sidelines:
A new generation of activists are being born, rejecting the wait-your-turn politics of our forebears, demanding change. And yet, the persistent perception of Gen Z as lazy and uninvolved remains mainstream amongst political players.
Political pundits and civics teachers alike often lament how low voter turnout is amongst younger generations. While some argue that this is a result of disinterest or a culture of apathy, many young activists would assert that the barriers to participation in local government are simply too great for many young folks.
At the outset of the pandemic last spring, Adam Davis had an encounter with a young man in downtown Portland that captured the times, leaving him now to ask about the next encounter that will define a moment:
That moment has stayed with me and regularly rears up in my mind because it contained so much: the unexpected encounter, distance and proximity, economic difference and economic precarity, tension and suspicion, a desolate and simmering downtown, the call of my work and the sense of what that work could and could not do, and, of course, pizza. It was a moment that captured what felt to me then like the defining truths and tensions of Portland, and to some extent of the country. And it was a moment that, for me, has not yet been replaced.
But now, on the other side of the vaccine and the verdict and a different administration and multiple levels of relief, I wonder what’s next. What unpredictable encounter might hold and help clarify the moment we’re moving into?
Kristina Edmunson has some trash talk about Portland. Or, more specifically, about picking up all the trash around the city:
Portland was recently called “Trash City” (KGW), “Dumptown” (The Oregonian) and “Buried in Trash” (KATU). These catchy headlines stem from the mounds of trash, abandoned vehicles, and impromptu dump sites that seem to line streets, parks and highway overpasses of Portland. So much trash accumulated during the pandemic, and now the task of dealing with it all is a little overwhelming.
There is some irony that these headlines are popping up right during the springtime, because spring is typically the season of roses for the Rose City. But, just as the buds are starting to form at the International Rose Garden, it is become increasingly clear that we need to face this looming trash problem.
To ponder: Is your housing affordable?
