Port•land: a seaport in NW Oregon, at the confluence of the Willamette and Columbia rivers
Nice: pleasant; agreeable; satisfactory.
••••
In case y’all missed it: Last week during a public meeting, Metro Councilor Juan Carlos González was discussing his concerns surrounding housing policy in the region, when fellow councilor Mary Nolan—who is White—asked González to repeat himself… but this time “in English.” González, who is Latino, was already speaking English. Two days later, Nolan asked to apologize to González from the dais. In a move that nobody asked for, Nolan then submitted their repentance to González in full Bad Bunny Super Bowl mode—100 percent Spanish. Then Nolan doubled down and delivered their apology in full English for the gringos in the audience.
It was bad, y’all.
The initial offense could have maintained a shield of plausible deniability— dismissed as an unfortunate use of a common phrase between people when having a misunderstanding. Instead the Duolingo-style apology, in which Nolan noted that they “disrespected [his] heritage,” read as cringeworthy; becoming a case study in a common affliction that befalls my hometown—called “Portland Nice™.”
My goal is not to sketch Councilor Nolan into a caricature. Viral moments such as these often lose context and build quick villains out of missteps. I’m just saying this haphazard kumbaya that had González noticeably uncomfortable was emblematic of the clash of ill-placed pleasantries, and the disconnect that comes with it in matters of race and politics around the Rose City.
Navigating Portland as a Person of Melanin means I am in constant contact with Portland Nice. It’s the veneer of embrace, acceptance, camaraderie, and oftentimes repentance. It’s the priority of keeping up appearances—of being pleasant or agreeable—or “down” without the actual demonstration to back it. It often requires us to develop a sort of fluency in what is said, and what is meant. Is this “niceness” permanent or performative?
My partner has been described as many things by those who know her as many things—gracious, thoughtful, funny, militant even at times—but nobody has described her as “nice.” She is White. She has never shied away from a conversation around race, gender, or any “hot button” issue of the day. When she’s ignorant about something, she states it. When she’s got an opinion, and if it differs from yours, you will absolutely know it. She holds no degree in Portland Performative Studies, which has likely resulted in a wide network of authentic relationships with her across many divides: racial, gender, political, geographical, etc.
I’m not much of one for fortune cookie-style mantras that refuse to deal with people being… well… people. The “allies should be seen, not heard” type of approaches to the work, in my estimation, are not real. Too often, the “not heard” piece only fuels Portland Nice—leaving folks to hold appearances of unity, while maintaining status quo beliefs internally.
While I also have an aversion to the word “ally,” I understand the sentiment and consider the progressive notion behind the word as noble. It has, however, been my experience that at times, people’s desires to be a self-designated “ally,” without true roots in the shared humanity that binds us—including disharmony and conflict—not only leads to social fumbles, but widens the bridge to progress.
And if progress is the goal, then we can’t get there with faux camaraderie or the inability to maneuver social missteps.
Together, friends, we can beat Portland Nice.
Before going any further, here are some examples of how the affliction might show up in your everyday travels around town.
1) Kicks off event with land acknowledgement—but has no intention to build with Indigenous communities during or after the event in any meaningful way.
2) Uses words like “compassion” and “accountability” to support policies that further criminalize poverty and/or advance mass incarceration.
3) Pays consultants heftily to create racial justice frameworks for organization: then expects experts in their field or emerging professionals to advance said frameworks for no pay (or does not engage said frameworks at all upon completion).
Such examples are hardly exhaustive, but offer a great jumping off point into both the overt and covert nature of the ailment. If you recognize such traits in yourself—fret not. The antidote is, essentially, to do the exact opposite of the above. Here are some tips on how you can combat Portland Nice:
1) PDX Housing Solidarity has Realtors that are forgoing their commission fees in support of Indigenous and Black people buying homes—no land acknowledgement needed. Take heed.
2) Support policies that are to the betterment of the whole. When in doubt—ask yourself questions like, “does this align more with the legacy of the Assata Shakurs of the world, or say, the John D. Rockefellers?”
3) Pay people for their time. The days of advisory committees and marginalized groups doing Herculean [read: consulting] work to be paid in “thank yous” are dead. Pay us… well.
Far be it from me to campaign to replace your BLM signs with “Don’t Tread on Me” flags. I’ve heard many of my folks lambast the Portland Nice dichotomy, saying something along the lines of “at least in the South I know what I’m dealing with”—I may have even said it a time or three. But upon further inspection, I’m unsure this holds the weight we think it’s meant to.
I’m building a park in St. Johns through my initiative The Kidz Outside. While laying down a street mural at the intersection adjacent to the park, I met a man who lived nearby and we started talking. As the conversation grew, he explained he was originally from Mississippi—noting the differences between the regions. He went on to tell a story of how as a teen he watched his adult mother have to answer “yes sir” to a boy his age. While Oregon and Mississippi share more DNA than most would acknowledge—this story did feel particularly Mississippi.
Conversely, that very day, a neighbor on that same block pleaded with me not to install a basketball court “because of the kind of kids it would bring in.” She was White. She said it nicely. Her dog whistles were more like snarls.
What undergirds the sentiment of “at least in the South I know what I’m dealing with” is a desire to sidestep the often performative nature of progressiveness in the Pacific NW, and engage with the reality of advancing actual progress. Portland is ripe with folks who have the latest updates of “DEI talk” downloaded on their mental hard drives. The question is, can we sidestep the overzealous head nods, or extra-thick apologies, and get in where we fit in? Can we realize the work is messy and people are complicated, but that all of this doesn’t have to be so hard if we just reach in and all pick up a paddle to prosperity?
Councilor Nolan’s misstep is hardly irredeemable. In the broader landscape of issues facing us today, it’s unlikely it will even make a dent in the public psyche for much longer. Ultimately, the first mishap really could have been cleared up with a private conversation—rather than later becoming a more egregious foot-in-mouth cultural misnomer.
May it, above all, act as a lesson from here on out. The two have reportedly had a private conversation since Nolan’s apology so—progress?
On that note—a word of advice to my dear readers. If you should ever come at me sideways (purposely, or inadvertently) and feel compelled to apologize later, do not seek to deliver your amends in my native “Ebonics.” I promise I don’t need that kind of apology. Ever.
Por favor.
