Portland, in addition to being my hometown, is many things. “War-ravaged” is not one of them. 2025 brought us a slate of memorable, profound, troubling, and laugh-to-stop-from-crying moments: ramped up terrorism from ICE, groundbreaking reclamation efforts from Black Portland, and thousands of people bare-assing it to disarm the POTUS’ hot-takes about Portland. So what did it all really mean? Let’s look back at the top 10 takeaways from this past year and break it all down.
Folks Didn’t Wanna Remember 2020—We Made Sure They Did
Since 2020, dark money groups—like People for Portland and other conservatives (Dem and Republicans alike)—marinated and slow-roasted the global movement for Black lives in lies, and then pitchfork-fed it back to the people as the scourge of the nation. Matter of fact, half-baked takes about the movement were being amplified even before 2020 came to a close. It’s why I partnered with the Portland Mercury this year to produce a magazine titled BlackOut: A Five-Year Retrospective of Portland’s Racial Justice Protests. Published in May to coincide with the fifth anniversary of George Floyd’s murder, we distributed 40,000 copies of this commemorative magazine, which spotlighted the perspectives of 12 Black Portlanders on direct action, government, mentorship, abolition, investment, and more.
Since then, the magazine has inspired art, book clubs, a City Club forum, school curriculum, and even got a share from Nikole Hannah Jones. So while some wanted to treat 2020 as an asterisk, we made sure it was given the center stage it truly deserves.
(White) People Will Strip When Pushed to the Edge
This past fall, thousands of people two-wheeled into the streets, free of clothes and inhibitions, to protest the Trump administration, falsely calling Portland a “war zone” while working to deploy quasi-federal troops onto our city’s streets. In my column’s debut, “I’ve Never Joined the Naked Bike Ride, But I Won’t Hate On It,” I described how this “Emergency” ride was not my personal ministry, as I am part of the fully-robed congregation. The same day as the ride, just blocks away, a small group of us were gathered for the unveiling of the Keaton Otis memorial, a 24-year-old who was shot and killed by Portland Police a few short minutes after they stopped him for “looking like a gang member” (which he wasn’t) 15 years ago.
The ride, however, proved effective: along with a mix of protests at the Portland ICE facility (that brought us the Frog costume avatar) and legal actions from local Democratic leadership, the troops were out of here within hours of deployment.
Hot Take: Hardly Anybody Likes Our President
Seven million gathered nationwide on October 18 to decry America’s wanna-be dictator. It’s impossible to look at millions of people coming together to decry The Apprentice boss and not have a level of admiration for the moment.
I did wonder, however, what it would have looked like if all those attendees refused to shop for a day, or invested their dollars in a small business, or joined an organization, or participated in a general strike (as Chicago Mayor Brandon Johnson called for)… or, all of the above. But I’ll be honest, I ordered some of my holiday gifts from Amazon, too—so, there’s that.
Black Portland Stays Innovating
If you haven’t been paying attention, Black Portland has been killing it this year. For starters: The 1803 Fund is the largest, Black woman-owned investment fund in the country—and it was created by a Portland native, Rukaiyah Adams, so let’s clap it up for that. This year, they’ve invested in a network of projects, properties, and organizations that are making life safer and more vibrant for us all.
These big investments include Albina Vision Trust (my current 9 to 5), the largest restorative redevelopment in the country. This summer AVT also opened Albina One, its first affordable housing development this year, welcoming back the first families into Lower Albina in 40 years. The One North building on Williams Avenue was also secured by the Center for Black Excellence for the Center for Black Student Success. Among this year’s historic strides, I’ll also count my The Kidz Outside project, focusing on transforming St. Johns’ George Park. Stewarding $4 million to ensure the transformation of George Park is not just development for development sake, but a project that’s leading the Portland Parks Bureau in a first-of-its-kind partnership to transform these two acres into a hub for St. Johns’ kids and families, past and present.
Our New Government Is Still Figuring it Out—and That’s Okay
As we come up on nearly a year of being governed under this new city council, I continue to remain optimistic about what this updated style of government will bring. As someone who didn’t vote until I was 25, it’s a trip to say I’ve spent significant facetime with eight of the 12 city councilors to date. This is certainly the most diverse Portland City Council in city history, and with a contingent of progressive electeds, I do believe there is legitimate promise of enacting more policies that make sense for people beyond the town’s business class.
As expected, there have been some bumps along the way, but I do see councilors connecting with a wider array of Portlanders at events, town halls, and in folks’ neighborhoods like never before.
Homelessness Was NOT Solved
I voted for Keith Wilson, and his campaign promise to end unsheltered homelessness in a year was a lofty one I’d heard before. I’d interfaced with former Mayor Ted Wheeler many times across his eight-year tenure, and he promised the same thing, more or less. Things got worse. If nothing else, Keith stood up a lot of shelter beds in 2025.
However, as experts regularly point out, additional shelter beds won’t solve this crisis. Oregon is still evicting people faster than affordable housing is being built. Simultaneously, new data shows that many affordable housing units are standing empty. In addition, this was the year the Oregon Legislature gutted eviction protections by 75 percent, even though evictions were at their highest levels in state history. I wrote about this in depth in my essay, “A 10 Year (Forgotten) Emergency,” exploring how a decade after housing advocates declared a “Renters SoS,” the housing crisis in the state has gotten measurably worse—go read that.
Police Will Do Anything for Some Money
In 2020, demands from the public to redirect $50 million of Portland Police Bureau’s budget into social programs like housing, mental health services, and other underfunded safety programs received unprecedented levels of support from the public. Despite widespread love, the demand went unmet. In 2025, a legislative proposal to reallocate $2 million from PPB’s budget to support Portland Parks’ crumbling infrastructure support was labeled “a defund” effort by critics, as a slur.
A few short months later, Portland’s police union emerged with a new way to play in our faces, launching a ballot initiative to divert 25 percent of Portland Clean Energy Fund for their hiring efforts.
Yes, PCEF was a historic environmental justice funding effort led by former Commissioner Jo Ann Hardesty—AKA the first Black woman elected to City Council, who was also one of the loudest and most effective critics of the Portland Police Bureau. Yes, the police union actively tried to dismantle all she built during her tenure. And yes, you are very good at connecting the dots.
Rolling Back Measure 110 Made No Sense
In 2023, Oregon Democrats and Republicans “compromised” their way to spinning the block on re-criminalizing addiction. The truth is, nobody wants to have folks struggling and blazing up fentanyl on the streets. Decriminalizing drug possession during 2020, when the streets were somewhat bare, made Measure 110 an easy punching bag once people returned to “normal” post-COVID, only to find what had been there for decades: a shoestring behavioral health system spilling out on our streets. Only now, it was hyper-visible.
Despite Measure 110 helping thousands of people across Oregon, once the funding finally got out the door, the heavy demonization of the law began. Detractors pegged it as a “failed experiment”—an accusation backed by little more than vibes, not facts. So lawmakers created a new experiment: “deflection.” Deflection gave cops a choice to offer someone jail or connect people to services after being caught with drugs. New data shows that in Multnomah County, two or less people a day have been using the near $4 million deflection center during its first year in operation. Furthermore, of the 606 people serviced there, only 116 completed the steps of completing a substance use assessment and contacting a service agency. Alas, police are not social workers. Alas, millions have been spent on another experiment. However, Measure 110 funding continues to stand-up research-backed solutions: detox centers, treatment facilities, and hiring more peer support workers than ever.
Black Media Matters
The largest Black media entity in Portland, The Skanner turned 50 this year. I owe my start in media to both of the Black papers in town, The Portland Observer and later The Skanner. It was at these institutions where I refined my pen, and joined the ranks of many who have amplified the vast sea of Black stories, dragging them from the margins to center stage. I was honored to contribute an essay to their commemorative issue this year; flipping through its pages I was reminded of the importance of institutionalized Black storytelling.
This year, The Numberz FM quietly shut its doors, and with it, a notable near-decade run of amplifying Black voices on the radio. There are rumblings of new owners resurrecting the 96.7 FM signal under a new moniker, so I’ll stay tuned for how that unfolds. All told, from The Skanner to BlackOut, this year was a potent reminder that Black storytellers are critically needed in an era where cuts to newsrooms and media makers are happening across the board.
Kee’s Loaded Kitchen Is Still the Funniest Social Media Account in Portland
If there are any fellow producers with a budget reading this—here’s my million dollar idea: Give Kiauna Nelson a reality show. Better known as “Kee,” the owner of the soul food cart Kee’s #Loaded Kitchen is maybe the most unfiltered business owner I have ever seen on social media. Kee is going to tell you about what she’s eating, what’s she’s drinking, who she’s messing with, and what she doesn’t give a fuck about—sometimes all in the same post.
Patronized this year by the likes of Omari Hardwick, Redman, and the social media food critic du jour Keith Lee, Kee has racked up more than a million followers to date. So if you’re reading this: 1) Hit the follow button for @keesloadedkitchen if you haven’t already, and 2) smash down to MLK Boulevard and buy yourself a #Loaded plate. (And tell Kee that The Black Byline sent you.)
Donovan Scribes is an award-winning writer, communications consultant, speaker and producer. He is the former vice president of the Portland NAACP. Follow him on Instagram @donovanscribes. Want to keep the conversation going? Email him at donovanscribes@gmail.com.
