The Weekly Way (6/18/21)
What connects Oregonians? Pride of place.
Kevin Frazier edits The Oregon Way between Zoom classes at the UC Berkeley School of Law. He runs No One Left Offline, a nonprofit that provides hotspots to individuals on the wrong side of the Digital Divide, in his spare time.
Over the past two months, I’ve talked with Oregonians in Bandon, Baker City, Beaverton and beyond. These chats centered on one question: Why do you love Oregon?
To answer that big question, I asked a lot of little ones. I asked easy questions like where people were from, how they ended up in Oregon (or why they stayed), and where in Oregon they’d like to visit when travel becomes a common occurrence again. I asked ones that required some more thought such as “Who encapsulsates what it means to be an Oregon?”. And, of course, I asked some toughies, like “If you had an hour with Governor Brown, what cause would you advocate for and why?”
Throughout a series of posts, I’ll share what I learned from these chats. Today, I wanted to highlight one theme that emerged: Oregonians have a deep pride of place.
Young and old, urban and rural, left and right, the Oregonians I chatted with were absolute in their belief that their slice of Oregon was something special. When I asked them for their best “sales pitch” to convince friends or family to visit, everyone had a quick response. I found that telling — Oregonians are well practiced at sharing their state with others because they’re proud of it and, for lack of a better phrase, what to show it off.
That desire to share, though, has some limits. Once I asked folks to list their biggest concerns about the future of the state, more than a few worried about the state’s explosive population growth. How would their community change? Is there enough housing for all these new Oregonians? Will the “old” residents be pushed aside and lose the traditions and norms that brought them to Oregon in the first place? With these concerns in mind, when I asked about favorite places in Oregon, some opted not to share — they didn’t want that spot to get spoiled.
Pride of place, then, is a strength and weakness. On the pro-side, this pride bonds us to those around us and the ground beneath us. On the con-side, it can make us a little standoffish and, frankly, selfish.
How to foster the pro-side is a challenge we’ve all got to address. One place to start may be more explicitly defining what we’re afraid of losing (or striving to protect) — is it a place, a business, a community, or a relationship? If we can more clearly share what we’re all proud of, then we can more proactively take steps to collectively ward off threats.
This strategy has worked in the past. For example, when Oregonians feared extensive development on the coast, folks named that fear, shared it broadly, and rallied around specific solutions—like the Beach Bill.
The act of narrowly defining a threat or specifically pointing out what you want to protect can make it easier for a broader range of Oregonians to come to your aid. From my chats, I’d venture to guess you’re not the only Oregonian who does not want to see their slice of the state spoiled.
To ponder: Tourisms Impact on the Economy
To read:
Jessica Gomez notes that no amount of carbon reduction in Oregon will have a measurable impact on the temperature of the planet. So, what should Oregon’s role be in addressing climate change?
If Oregon were to help develop low-cost clean energy technology, energy storage technology, or reduced power consumption technology that could be readily exported across the globe, then Oregon will have a real, measurable impact on climate change.
How do we make this happen? The first step is to admit that this is a global problem and that we should refocus our resources toward a global solution. We then need to support our scientific and engineering community by making the necessary investments in higher education, especially math, science, and engineering.
Tim Nesbitt likes big ideas, but wonders if aspirational goals have become an excuse for delay:
I don’t think we should give up on ambitious goal setting, especially when it comes to taking on important issues like education and climate change. And, yes, progress on these issues will take time. But I hope we’ve learned that big ideas require a lot of smaller ideas and the constant ferment of doing and redoing by engaged citizens in order to make them real. If we don’t sweat the stretch goals, they’ll quickly devolve into empty promises and engender the cynicism that is all too common about government programs these days.
If those goals extend beyond the terms of current officeholders, with no deliverables to achieve while they’re in office, we’re likely to see more aspiration than accomplishment. It’s hard to take seriously the “fierce urgency of now” when we’re thinking in terms of distant decades.
Jamie McLeod-Skinner writes that our democratic republic is damaged and is in need of repair and stewardship:
The practice of a healthy democratic republic is hard. It starts with free, fair, and safe elections. Respect for each of its distinct roles and responsibilities — public, staff, management, and policy maker — is important for it to work.
This can demand much of us — patience when we are frustrated, steadfastness when we are betrayed, and commitment to process even when the result makes our blood boil. Our challenge is not to dwell on where it has fallen short but to make it live up to its promise.
In the end, finding our better selves and honoring this gift we have been given — the potential for a workable democracy — will determine our legacy.
Adam Davis explains how reviewing 257 applications for artist fellowships changed how he looks at Oregon:
One facet of the work that stands out to me from this reviewing experience is how much of it takes place out of sight most of the time. I’ve been with Oregon Humanities, a statewide organization in Oregon’s cultural sector, for eight years now, and still, so many of these 257 people were new to me, as were so many of the projects and partners their applications mention. And I know there are thousands of people who did not apply who are also doing this quietly remarkable work. This reviewing experience has helped me see that Oregon is home to a dedicated, powerful, and somewhat subterranean corps of community-building artists.
A second facet that stands out is that even though some of this work is episodic and some of it is literally performative, all of it, no matter how powerful the immediate end product, is more about the process than the thing or the performance that gets produced. It’s long-term work. Here the subterranean character of the work is hopeful, because of the roots that are extending and the plants that are emerging and the stands and forests sure to come.
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Your article exemplifies why much of Oregon wants to break away from the Uber liberal messed up Portland metro area whose liberals control the state. It might be the only way to save the state.