[Editor's Note: BlackOut: A Five-Year Retrospective on Portland’s Racial Justice Movement is a joint production from Donovan Scribes and the Portland Mercury, written exclusively by Black Portlanders, to remember and reflect on the May 25, 2020 murder of George Floyd at the hands of police, and the 100+ days of protests in Portland that same year. You can find BlackOut in print at more than 500 locales citywide, inserted inside the Mercury's Food Issue. You can read all the BlackOut articles here.]
Flags got waved.
Prayers got prayed.
Streets got took.
Police sprayed mace.
Speeches got spoke.
Whites got “woke.”
Revolution was the rage.
Quieted with a vote.
Bread got crumbed…
Souls back numb…
Hello new world!
Same as we’d begun!
20.20
— Donovan Scribes, untitled, May 25, 2022
Life under capitalism doesn’t offer us much time. We wake up, go to work, expend our coins on the basic needs, and if lucky, we might have enough left to stack a little bit. For the average 9-5’er, time is a box that leaves us with just enough tick-tocks on the clock to gasp for air, before going to bed and doing it all over again. Survival keeps us distracted. When life is reduced to putting one foot in front of the other above all, it’s hard to think about running the marathon. We run, we sleep, we wake, and we try to remember to… breathe.
Capitalism stopped for a moment in 2020. Well, not quite. Not at all actually, let’s be real. But the NBA shut down, and that was the first real sign to me that coronavirus might be something more than over-hyped clickbait. That was back in March 2020.
Then, the world stopped. And for a moment, life became a little more about life, and a little less about the next dollar. A little.
Time was all we had. Idle, idle, time.
For days.
For weeks.
For months.
Then May 25, 2020 became frozen in time after 9 minutes and 26 seconds.
Remember?
This issue is to make sure we do. I created this issue because I wanted to remember. I want you to remember as well.
Never before in world history has a global pandemic collided with a global uprising. And never before have I, fleeting as it was, felt that the depth of Black joy and pain was beginning to reach the fever pitch the collective finally needed to beat down that 400 year mirage that told us that this — our pain — is just the way it is.
When the doors flung back open to “normal,” we did not have a collective moment to recall what had been made of our world. We were not invited to grieve those lost; present our new skills and revelations. And certainly, not to chart forth with that “new normal” we had all been promised, save for “remote work” — and yes, shoutout to remote work, one of the few remaining jewels of COVID.
So here we are, five years later.
And I’ve gotta say, I’m frustrated.
Just take a look at the times.
We’ve gone from:
Biden v. Trump
to
Trump v. Biden
to
Kendrick v. Drake
to
Kamala v. Trump
to
America being Great Again.
I approached the Portland Mercury with the idea for a Black takeover of the paper late last year, after many months, years really, of rumination on how the narrative had been seemingly trampled and discarded since 2020. The largest demonstrations for Black liberation in world history had immediately been spun into the Boogeyman responsible for the mass homelessness, crime, and the hollowing out of downtowns. “Defund the police” was no longer a policy demand, but a frothy-mouthed fantasy of ill-informed activists to America’s robo-cop responses to poverty and race. Note: Taking money from the for-profit criminal legal system, to help buoy under-funded communities has been a demand since the plantation… but I digress.
Not only did the Mercury say “yes,” they said “hell yes!” The Merc has long been a favorite outlet of mine for their dedication to the craft of journalism, with a healthy dose of side-eye to the “powers that be” whomever they may be. So not only did they become a natural partner on paper, they hopped in feet-first alongside me to make sure that this was the deserved exclamation point to the grim five-year anniversary of George Floyd’s death, and the subsequent protests that swallowed the world once the footage leaked. And so, BlackOut: A Five-Year Retrospective on Portland’s Racial Justice Movement was born.
Floyd, a Texas native murdered in Minneapolis, Minnesota, became the unwitting poster-child for the tightrope between life and death Black people straddle daily.
And when the world turned up to say his name, my hometown, Portland, Oregon, carved it in the sky for more than 100 days in the streets. One hundred-plus days.
This issue is to remember. This issue is to remember the ones who were in the streets every day. And the ones who never did. The frontliners, and behind the sceners. The OGs, and the young ones.
I have put together a dozen essays and interviews with Black people in this city to reflect on one of the most monumental moments in human history. These essays tackle a range of angles from the protests themselves, to mentorship, economic empowerment, police, and of course…White people.
The order of these essays is deeply intentional. My hope is that you will make the time to read these like you’re listening to an album you’ve been waiting for; track by track. This is a journey I’ve mapped out for you to march along; a bridge from then to now. That said, you can pick up any of these essays at any time and get something from them, I promise. Whatever you do, read ‘em all.
This issue is not about hope. Though there’s hope in it. This issue is not about self-proclaimed “allies,” though there’s plenty in here for you to reconsider too—including that word. This issue is about five Black fingers clenched in the air, no matter the season. This issue is about flesh, bone, and soul.
This issue is about time that clock on the wall.
Ticking.
Tocking.
This issue is about a time that will never happen again.
And it begs of us the question—what did it all really... *gasps*.
Donovan Scribes is an award-winning writer, producer, and owner of the communications consulting firm D Scribes LLC. The former VP of the Portland NAACP, he's secured major policy and investment victories throughout his career.
