Juneteenth

On Thursday, June 17, 2021, President Biden signed legislation which was overwhelmingly passed by the House and Senate, making Juneteenth a federal holiday.  Juneteenth commemorates the end of slavery by marking the day that enslaved people in Texas learned that they were free.  This was on June 19, 1865, two and a half years after Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation took effect.  For obvious reasons, word was slow to spread to people who were enslaved.  Texas was the last state in which the state government was still permitting slavery, in resistance to the federal law.  Juneteenth has been celebrated since 1866, and is also known as Jubilee Day, Emancipation Day,and Black Independence Day. 

Whose Life Matters?

Imagine for a moment that someone is bulldozing the graves of YOUR family.  In addition, they are doing it to build a giant oil pipeline under your property, and your only source of drinking water.  Then do a little research on ongoing oil leaks and spills and the effect on drinking water and human health.  How would you feel about that?  Would you put your body on the line to make it stop?

Creating Future Peace

I guess the title of this post is what this blog is all about, but I'm referring specifically to race. I grew up in a very small, very white town. My upbringing was a little unusual for my area, because I actually knew Black people as a child. My mother was a Job Corp volunteer, teaching reading to the youth who lived in the barracks of what had formerly been a WWII Navy Base. I was about three at the time and most of these youth were Black. They were away from families, and homesick. Many of them had younger siblings, so when I tagged along with her, I was coddled and adored by these boys. I was their little mascot. I am very grateful to my mother, who believed in civil rights and taught me to as well. She was ahead of her time, and a bit of an anomaly in our backwards little town.

As I grew older, I didn't realize or pay much attention to the fact that there were almost no Black people in our town. I guess I just thought that mostly white populations were the norm. I noticed that many of our local rivers and other features had Native American names. I was vaguely curious about Chief Kilchis, a local chief, who had figured prominently in local history. I lived in what was called, “the Kilchis District,” and there was a small cemetery down the road from my house, where I liked to walk and think. I read the names on the gravestones, and tried to imagine people's stories. I was fascinated to find a gravestone that said, “granddaughter of Chief Kilchis.” I began to wonder why there were no Kilchis Indians. How could it be that there was a whole tribe of them? What happened? As an adult, I became more acutely aware of the racial disparity in my town, and I had heard rumors that we had once been a Ku Kux Klan stronghold. I wondered what other secrets Tillamook held.

I went to the local library and checked out books on local history. There were interesting stories about the Kilchis tribe, but nothing to indicate whatever happened to them. I talked to a local historian and friend, Gerry Hysmith, and she told me an interesting story. Warren Vaughn, a local pioneer, had been the only white man the natives had trusted or liked, apparently (and with good reason). The little cemetery down the road from me had been their sacred burial ground until the early 1900's, when it was taken over by white people. Early on, the Kilchis tribe had brought their complaints to Warren Vaughn about their burial area being desecrated and pillaged by white men. Warren Vaughn vowed to put a stop to it.

At that time, Bay City was a thriving port town, and the county seat. Ships would come in with a load of ballast to weigh down and stabilize them, mostly dirt, rocks, and the sort. Vaughn found a small twig that had been discarded in a load of ballast, and presented it to the natives as a peace offering, and declared it to be his promise to stop the pillaging of native graves. The twig was planted at the top of the cemetery hill, where it grew into a very imposing tree that overlooks the entire cemetery. The tree is pretty much dead, but it stands as a reminder.

About four years ago, I met a woman named Helen Hill, a local playwright, artist, historian, and general renaissance woman. As we chatted, I learned she had written a book called, “A Brief History of Fear and Intolerance in Tillamook County.” She offered me a copy of the book, and I went home and read it in one sitting.

In it, I learned about the Klan activity in Tillamook County. I learned that under that giant sacred tree in “my” little cemetery (where my parents are now buried), lie the children of Chief Kilchis in unmarked graves. I learned that Chief Kilchis died on a reservation in a different county. And I learned why there were no more Kilchis Indians in Tillamook County. Eugenics. The males in that tribe were systematically sterilized. Sterilization is such a handy little word... sounds like neat and clean, but it belies the deep ugliness of what was happening; a young native man would break an arm and be taken to Bay City hospital, where he would be treated, and sterilized. THAT'S what happened. The book answered my questions, but it broke my heart. I knew that the very land I “own” was native land, that my family was only the second white family to ever live on it. I grieved for what my unearned privilege had cost others. I vowed that eventually I would find a way to mark those graves, and I would do my part to ensure that everyone heard this truth. I called Helen and asked her if she had more copies of the book, because I needed to buy them... for my kids, for my friends, for anyone who cares at all about our community. Long story short, she gave me the printing rights to the book, and I have gifted it to many people.

Race has remained at the forefront of my consciousness, as I see the way that racism plays out in my community, from hearing people of Middle East descent, who bought a local convenience store chain, called, “ragheads,” to hearing racist and hateful remarks against Hispanic immigrants, to the fact that there remains very, very few Black people in Tillamook.

A few months ago, I was contacted by a woman from the Rural Organizing Project (www.rop.org) named Sam Hamlin. We met over lunch, and discussed concerns about the sharp rise in racially-based hate crimes in Oregon, along with an alarming increase in White Supremacist activities and presence in the state. The ROP had planned what they referred to as an “emergency response” to this disturbing situation.

A professor from Portland State University, Dr. Walidah Imarisha, had offered to tour rural Oregon, where these groups like to do their dirty work, and present on Black History...not only a history of oppression and struggle, but of resilient, thriving communities of color that had survived against overwhelming odds and contributed a great deal to Oregon. Thanks to ROP, Oregon Humanities, the Tillamook Co. Pioneer Museum, the Women's Resource Center, and Bay City Arts Center, we were able to bring her to Tillamook County. The presentation was called, “Why Aren't There More Black People in Oregon? A Hidden History.”

I had only received 39 RSVPs for the event we set up on September 9^th, so I was a little nervous, but over 60 people turned up that evening to participate in the presentation. It was electrifying to see that many people who are investing in addressing this issue; maybe I hadn't given Tillamook enough credit!

Dr. Imarisha used a timeline of Black History in Oregon to shed light on things that most people didn't know. Horrifying and sad things. She asked how many people in the room had grown up and attended Oregon schools, and many hands went up. She then asked how many people had learned of this history, and I don't believe I saw a single hand. She did a fine job of illustrating that this is everyone's history, not just Black history, and it's important for us all to know it.

Many people take pride in knowing that Oregon was founded as an anti-slavery state, without realizing that it was not anti-slavery out of concern for civil rights. It was because slavery would bring Black people to Oregon and they weren't wanted here. Oregon was intended to be a “white homeland.” I learned about the 1844 Lash Law, and many other egregious and hateful practices in what I was always taught was a progressive, open-minded state. I was sad and ashamed.

Helen Hill was there, along with another local hero, retired Justice of the Peace Neal Lemery. When a member of the crowd asked the presenter to show “proof” that Tillamook was a Sundown Town (in which local laws prevent persons of color from being there after sundown), Neal turned around and said that, until 1982, it was still written into local ordinance. What he didn't mention is that he was instrumental in having it removed from the books, against resistance and personal backlash. He had finished law school and come back to his hometown to practice, only to be disheartened, but ready to do something about it. Helen didn't mention her book, but others did, along with a play she had done about the KKK.

We broke into small groups and discussed what we would like to do to move forward to make our community a more welcoming and safe place to live, for everyone. This was never intended to be a one-time conversation, so we collected contact information from those interested in follow-up. I have recently obtained the notes from that meeting, and I am working with the ROP to set up our next event, where we will have the opportunity to plan ways to make this happen.

Here is a link to the PowerPoint created by Dr. Imarisha for this event. It is available on YouTube, with or without commentary. I'm attaching the version with commentary, in case you were not fortunate enough to hear her in person.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fo2RVOunsZ8

Anyone who is interested in joining this very important conversation is welcome. If interested, please contact me at 503-842-8294, x. 209, or email me at romy@tcwrc.net. You can live anywhere in the world and start these conversations. Ending racism is a pretty tall order, but we have to start somewhere right?

“Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed people can change the world; indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.”

Margaret Mead

Let Freedom Ring!!

Wedding bells are ringing!  Since Oregon overturned the same sex marriage ban last month, two couples I know have set wedding plans.  Last Saturday, in a lovely intimate setting in a beautiful wooded garden area, my friends stood before friends and family and pledged their ongoing love and commitment.

These two women have been together for 27 years, so I had to stifle a giggle when the minister mentioned the enormous commitment it takes to enter into a marriage.  I’m pretty sure they’ve had some time to think it through.  The wedding was beautiful, with a sing-along, accompanied by guitar and recorder, and even a kazoo (you had to be there!).  Even some tinkling wind chimes in a nearby tree contributed as if on cue.  It was magical.

 

As I sat listening to their vows, watching their glowing faces, I thought of the struggles that people have had throughout American history with such issues, back to the time when only white, male, landowners were allowed to vote. 

The same people who would deny these two women the right to marry appear to have the same mindset (and arguments) as the group that opposed interracial marriage in this country back before the 1967 Supreme Court decision lifting that ban.  The same people who would be horrified at the idea of arranged marriages often seem to have no qualms about thinking that two consenting adults in this country can’t make their own decision about marrying one another. How stupid this same-sex marriage ban will look to future generations!  The “fabric of society” will not be compromised one tiny bit by same-sex marriage any more than it was by abolition of slavery, blacks and women voting, or interracial marriage.  I even feel silly pointing that out.  For some people, progress provokes great and unreasonable fear.

So these were my thoughts as I sat there, and I got a little irritated with myself for focusing out on this and not just enjoying this beautiful, historical moment.  Here I was, a part of something sacred, a moment to savor and celebrate!  Here was a reminder of all that is right in this world, and that’s why I feel that in some ways, the world is getting better, not worse as some would believe. 

It’s taken huge sacrifice, and many people have put jobs, reputations, even lives on the line for the right to marry who they want, and here I was watching this huge victory, in a way a culmination of all that struggle.  I’m honored to be a witness to this, and grateful for all the people who spoke out, knowing laws don’t change unless people MAKE them change.  The tipping point seems to take place when people run out of justifications for their bigotry.  It also makes a difference when it affects your neighbors, your friends, your family members, someone you care about.  The scales of justice have finally tipped in the right direction, and it’s a sweet, long-deserved victory.

What hurts one of us ultimately hurts us all, and I’m committed to helping to create a world where people aren’t being hurt.  It’s a tall order, but one step at a time, things are getting better.  By taking a stand, win or lose, we can embolden people to safely be themselves, knowing there are people who have their back.

My friends who married last Saturday have spent decades in the trenches, as activists for marriage equality.  Their victory is about even more than marriage equality; it’s about promotion of the idea of equal rights for all. 

So what’s next?  Well, the Senate passed the Employment Non-Discrimination Act (ENDA) for the first time ever.  President Obama recently announced he’s moving ahead on an executive order that will ban anti-LGBT discrimination among federal contractors.  Now we need passage of ENDA in the House of Representatives to get it signed into law.

June is LGBT Pride Month.  For so many Oregonians, this particular June will be the sweetest one of all.  Let’s relish this moment in history and keep fighting the good fight!

Happy Pride Month!

Mother's Day, after a week of hard thinking

Mother’s Day has been over for almost a week, but it’s still on my mind.  I’ve been thinking so much lately about the privilege of peace, and of all those mothers who live in terror and horror that I never have to even think about.

At the heart of my starting this blog was a desire to write about the privilege of peace.  I wanted to write a book about it, but that proved to be far more time consuming than the bite-sized chunks that a blog entails.

My premise is based in oppression theory.  We all have privilege that we are unaware of.  Some people get very defensive when you point out that they have privilege, and those same people get upset when folks who don’t have as much privilege as they do aren’t getting as far in life, because they don’t experience the invisible glass ceiling that others live with.

My introduction to this topic was the work of Peggy McIntosh, who wrote about white privilege.  I never considered myself a racist by any means, and it was very unsettling to entertain the concept that I was walking around with privilege just by being white.  One of her seminal works is the list of white privilege, which is a real eye-opener.  Go ahead, take a minute and read it the 50-item list of the daily effects of white privilege:

http://amptoons.com/blog/files/mcintosh.html

It never occurred to me that these things weren’t true for others until it was pointed out, because I was in the majority and my experience was the “norm.”  Thus began some research into privilege, and I found lists for male privilege, able-bodied privilege, thin privilege, class privilege, hetero privilege, you name it.  The majority of us move in and out of privilege throughout our lives in one way or another, and that comes with some responsibility.  As a white, hetero person, I feel a strong sense of obligation to be an ally and supporter of people who are LGBT or persons of color.  Because I have built-in credibility that I did nothing to earn, the least I can do is use it to do the right thing, right?

I have taught classes on oppression theory, and I could write pages and pages about this issue alone.  People who deny their unearned privilege aren’t doing the world any favors.  It just is what it is, and rather than be defensive and deny it, isn’t it better to work together to create a society where nobody feels marginalized?

Looking at this from a global view, it’s important to realize there is additional privilege that nobody is really talking about, and that is what I call the privilege of peace.  While our lives aren’t perfect, we also are living in bombed out buildings, or in non-stop terror of imminent attacks and death.  We do not have to worry that we will put our child on a school bus in the morning, and that bus will be bombed, or the school will be bombed and our child will not come home because of wide-spread terror and war.  We don’t have to worry that soldiers will bust into our home, drag off our loved ones to torture and death.  We don’t have to worry that our sons and daughters will be forced to be child soldiers, or that we will have to watch them slowly die of hunger or disease because some corrupt government or regime is withholding food or medicine for political gain.  We don’t have to wonder if our unborn child will be born with deadly deformities because of the U.S. military using chemical weapons such as white phosphorus in our neighborhoods.  We have the amazing luxury of thinking and dreaming ahead, planning concerts and events and outings without worrying about whether we will survive the day.

Yet nobody is talking about it.  We think the world is a lot bigger than it is, and let’s face it, all that misery and drama is a lot less upsetting if we pretend it isn’t happening, and maybe those other people on the “other” side of the world don’t matter quite as much as we do.  We can turn on the TV or the computer and tune it out, and be glad it isn’t us.  Well, some people can do that, but I just can’t.

I spent Mother’s Day thinking about this, because I was thinking about how being a mother, and a grandmother, changed my life completely.  I learned so much from those little people about what love really means.  This isn’t exclusive to Americans; this is a universal experience.  The mothers of those little girls kidnapped in Nigeria are enduring the kind of hell I can’t imagine.  The temptation, because it’s so horrific, is to say, “Thank God that’s not my little girl,” shudder, then try not to think about it.  But we must.  We must realize that by being able to push it out of our mind, we have privilege.  Those mothers don’t have that privilege. 

If we are really going to honor mothers on Mother’s Day, we need to remember all of the mothers.  We need to acknowledge the universal things we humans have in common, and know that people in war-torn regions love their children just as much as we do.  Then we need to commit ourselves to not being part of the cause of their pain.

Considering the fact that the U.S. far outspends the rest of the world on “defense,” (see this link: http://pgpf.org/Chart-Archive/0053_defense-comparison), and there aren’t any bombs dropping on us, it’s reasonable to assume that we are a big part of the problem.  We have the privilege of all this wealth and we are using it to make the lives of others hell, all over the world.  The figures don’t include the money we make by selling arms to despots and tyrants to use against their own people, so we are complicit in that as well.  And as long as we’re talking complicity, we are complicit if we are aware of these things and aren’t speaking out against them.

On Mother’s Day, my heart went out to mother’s everywhere who were suffering.  I reaffirmed my commitment to devote my life to ending war, whatever it takes.  I’m ashamed to be one of the oppressors, and I’m ashamed that my government has caused so much pain and suffering and death for others.  And on behalf of my country, I apologize to mothers everywhere.  I’m aware of my privilege, and I will be an ally, even if it means alienating other Americans who refuse to see their own privilege.  I will continue to speak out about the atrocities being funded by my tax dollars, and I know of many others who feel the same way I do.

The only way we are going to change things, the only way to end war, is for there to be no profit and no glory in fighting.  Pointing out this concept to people may result in you being called Un-American or unpatriotic, or other silly things, but let the name-callers say what they will because you will be speaking truth; some just can't handle it, and that's their problem.  At the heart of this is remembering that some people will have a tragic Mother's Day indeed, and live that tragedy every day, and those of us who don't have a moral obligation to try to stop that.