[What follows is a new column from Donovan Scribes, a writer, producer, former VP of the Portland chapter of the NAACP, and the editor of the Mercury‘s print issue BlackOut: a 5 Year Retrospective of Portland’s Racial Justice Protests.—eds.]
This week, against the backdrop of attempts by the President of the United States to flood Portland, Oregon, with federal troops, organizers did what they do—organize. For some months, Portland’s ICE facility has been the subject of regular protests, usually without incident until agents step out and begin aggressing at demonstrators. Even though the showdowns have taken place on just one block, the president maintains that the entire city is in shambles. For some Portland organizers, answering the call to defend their city means rallying an “emergency” World Naked Bike ride. If you’re not familiar with the World Naked Bike Ride, a near full description is found in its title. Thousands of Portlanders, of all creeds, hop on their bikes every summer, naked—ass naked—to promote body positivity and protest against the world’s reliance on fossil fuels.
The fact that this is one of the many faces of resistance in my city right now might not have made MLK laugh—but to me, it’s quite funny.
It’s funny, much in the way that the show Portlandia is. It’s the “Put a Bird on It” White whimsy of a city, portrayed as a mass of forest frolickers who forage magic mushrooms and rage against the machine. And in part, this is true. But in large part, it is not.
I’ve never participated in the Naked Bike Ride. I never will. Not out of protest, I just prefer my Black ass clothed, unless in the confines of my shower, sleeping, or practicing Sexual Healing. In fact, I’m usually caught off guard when the ride happens, stepping outside to suddenly be greeted by a parade of ass cracks, genitalia, and creative costuming. While far from an exclusive ride, it’s always read to me as a White event; one in which the core expression is an ever-fleeting necessity we all chase—freedom.
Amidst the whimsy, I can’t help but remember that freedom remains particularly out of reach for too many of Portland’s residents of color. Less than a month ago, ICE agents violently arrested Rafael Arriola Caballero and Felipe Aguilar Gama within a day of each other. While Caballero was quickly deported to Mexico, Gama’s whereabouts are still unknown to his family or the public. Masked patrols of Portland by ICE agents are now commonplace. Some students throughout the metro area have even stopped going to school to protect themselves and their families, fearing the same fate.
In rapper Aminè’s music video for his flex-anthem “Shimmy,” the platinum-selling artist bikes along Alberta, one of the most gentrified streets in America. Pedaling alongside him in his neighborhood of origin, a group of a dozen young Black men dressed in all black atop bright orange Biketown bikes. This image was a form of protest—and a fly one at that—and seemed to ask a serious question: What does it mean for everyone to be free in Portland, Oregon?
The video was released in February 2020, and unbeknownst to him or the world, this city would become the focal point of a gloriously imperfect racial justice uprising of a lifetime. One that begged the same question of what it means to be truly free.
It was then that Trump, still in his first term as president, turned his blood-lusting eyes toward Portland. The impeached commander-in-chief sent quasi-federal troops into town in order to quash the First Amendment rights of those who dared to Say Their Names.
The idea now, five years later, that Jeffery Epstein’s buddy would be seething online in all caps about the “perversion” of White “antifa” riding naked around the “war-ravaged” blocks he’s conjured in his ever-expanding imagination is comical. Dicks flopping about, free-wheeling pussy he can’t grab, in a country he can’t run.
Alas, amidst the spectacle of protest, let not the plot be lost. America spends nearly $10 billion annually on ICE. That spending has risen steadily since the agency was founded in 2003—regardless of who’s occupying the White House or Congress. While Trump’s last presidential opponent, Kamala Harris, called for “re-examining” ICE and “starting from scratch,” others in the Democratic Party, ranging from AOC to former NYC Mayor Bill de Blasio, have said it with their whole chest, calling for the agency to be abolished.
So, yes Portland is beautiful. Yes, Portland is full of whimsy. And yes, an emergency Naked Bike Ride to fight the power is very… well, Portland™. And just like every other American city, it has problems—deep ones. I don’t want to abolish the Naked Bike Ride. I’m just glad I’ve added this year’s emergency ride on October 12 to my calendar, so I won’t be blindsided by y’alls flesh.
But for those who do take part, remember, while it’s commendable to chase the ever-elusive concept of freedom, there are real battles that must continue to be waged here at home. While individuals and families throughout the metro area are dodging ICE daily, Portland Police bought a $150,000 robot “dog” this year with their ballooning $316 million budget, and the city of Portland has paid out over $18 million in police settlements over the last five years. The thumb of militarization is well-pressed into this town, and to win this long-running battle, it must be about more than just fleeting victories against the Emperor with No Clothes.
To freedom.
To support or learn more about the families who were impacted by the ICE raids mentioned in this essay, visit these GoFundMe links: Rafael Arriola Caballero, and Felipe Aguilar Gama.
Donovan Scribes is an award-winning writer, producer, and owner of the communications consulting firm D Scribes LLC. To mark the anniversary of George Floyd’s murder, he created a commemorative magazine, BlackOut: a 5 Year Retrospective of Portland’s Racial Justice Protests, published by the Portland Mercury. The former VP of the Portland NAACP, he’s secured major policy and investment victories throughout his career.
