Tag: love

Dr Ayana Johnson, in advocating for environmental issues approaches her work from a positive point of view. Her book “What If We Get It Right” avoids the environmental doom and gloom message of the world is ending and rather focuses on the fact we can still make a difference. I loved her message because it spoke to me of hope. There still was a reason to get involved and do things diffferently. I love her venn diagram for involvement. She says look at the cross section of three circles: 1. What gives you joy? 2. What are your skills and 3. What issue would you like to work on. If you see where these three things cross it will create a great route for you to get involved.

I knew then I wanted to do something for the environment, in specific, oceans and forests, using my art and organizing skills. I started a painting series that would be a fundraiser for environmental organizations that I felt were really doing the work. That project is still in motion, but I took a side track, when I started getting involved in the protests back in Portland. I kept meeting so many, what I would call ordinary people, who were doing such great work, both in the context of their jobs and as volunteers. I also had people who called themselves friends who were so frozen by everything going on that they couldn’t even talk about it with me. They of course were living in their privilege of which they are slowly waking up to the fact that in the end the fascists will come for them the same as everyone else. This sparked a new idea for me.

I was so inspired by the brave people. I begain this portrait project documenting the heros and sheros I was meeting. I first painted myself so I could put people at rest about being a part of the project. The portrait would not be an exact likeness that could be used to track them down when found on the wall of a gallery. I wanted to encourage them to say yes to me. I had a goal to paint 100 portraits. I laugh at myself as I only got through 10. But those ten made for wonderful stories to share and inspire others to get involved. Possibly I will continue the story now that I am in a new city, but for now here are the first stories, the Portland ten.

Li Li G

I got the nickname from my first nephew when he was a tiny tot. I’m “Aunty Li Li”. I’ve been involved in so many ways I mentioned in the last post. Painting brings me healing and joy, and as I move forward with The ROHO Artists’ Collective here in Minneapolis, a collective of local Black Artists working out of a brand new gallery in the center of downtown Minneapolis, focused on using art to heal, that is my current path.

My story? Well, I have to say I was influenced in life by my mother, my father and other relatives who have always stood up. You know how your memory of life as a kid isn’t always reality? Well, I remember folks like Desmond Tutu, and Ceasar Chevez sitting down to dinner with us at the dinner table. I did have a great imagination. We used to eat dinner as a family every night and talk about joys, life, dreams. In my mind my dad knew all of these famous folks and they had dinner with us. I thought Eddie Two Rivers had been at Wounded Knee, only to realize later, he was simply a friend of the family. He had nothing to do with that. So we did have friends who would come eat with us, who were doing good work, and we had conversations about famous people. I wasn’t completely off. (This was all before the TV got in the way of family time, but that’s another story.) Anyhow, the reality was, we had conversations about so many famous people doing good work, and we had friends who joined our dinner table doing good work, and to me hearing their stories was the same as whether they were really there or not.

Also, growing up in the 60’s in south Chicago meant we were dealing with Red Lining, which to a tiny me looked like all of my friends moved and a whole new set of friends moved in, then they moved too, as well as lots of fires were being lit all around the neighborhood… peoples’s fences, cars etc. My dad, as the neighborhood preacher was very active in supporting families that had been targets of these fires and violence.

We also marched with our community to keep from having our neighborhood demolished and becoming a freeway. We won! If you look at a map of Chicago you can see the freeway turned and missed our neighborhood. Unfortunately, I see now, that meant somebody else didn’t get missed. But the point was I remember activism and speaking up for those less fortunate was the work of the church.

Fighting police violence against Black people was so much a part of my fathers work that he ended up on a communist watch list, and the FBI planted a spy in his church, imagine that. It’s crazy that fight still goes on today.

And then from my mother, who was a Chicago Public School Teacher and Artist (although she would never call herself an artist), I learned the power and importance in education as well as gained a love of being a creative, an artist. So now, I try to put it all together in honor of all they did for me. Everyday is a new opportunity for me to figure out what I might add to the fight, what gifts I bring, what joy I partake in, how I bring my voice to the front lines.

“White Oak Dancing”

Some folks liked the idea of using a nickname. And this friend and artist, has a passion for spending time in the gorgeous Pacific Northwest forests with her dogs hiking for miles. She had never really been involved in anything like this before. Becoming friends with me she already was becoming aware that she had to learn a lot more about Black and Brown issues. So when these issues came to the forefront here, it was a natural tranition for her to get involved and speak out for others. Plus, She has the absolute toughest kind of diabetes anyone can have. (I forget the name of it.) It requires special medication to stay alive. If she were to get arrested at a protest, she is sure the police would not work at getting her medications to her in the time she would need it. Everything is monitored through her cell phone and she knew she would not be allowed to bring that in the cell with her. Plus Health care was under attack and soon she knew she might not be able to get the medication she needed. So, in her own words, she was going to fight. She had nothing to lose, but lots to gain. She is in her later years, and I wanted to share her story for folks who have never done anything. It is never too late to get involved. It is never too late to educate yourself on the issues.

Malcom

Each person I painted, I first interviewed and took lots of photos of, as well as asked them to share their favorite photos of themselves with me. I feel so privileged for the time they spent with me sharing their stories. I met Malcom at the East Side PDX Safety Team training I mentioned in my last post. Malcom is also in his later years and told me it all started for him back in the 80’s when the AIDS epidemic first hit. He had aids and was on his death bed. There were trial medications out there, but he was something like 900 on a list of folks hoping to get one of the 300 doses of medications. He was literally days, maybe hours away from death when another patient died, and Malcom’s doctor gave the rest of the patient’s medicine to him saving his life. He had been so moved by watching all of the activists at work fighting to get him help, that he joined them in the fight and has been standing up since then. He told me “I mean I’m in my 60’s, I’m not going to chain myself to tractors anymore…. well… maybe I would if I saw my friends being taken away… but I’m going to figure out what I can do at this age. And I think its teach others what I know.” I got to go to a weekend long training on de-escalation, non-violent protest and civil disobedience that Malcom put together with a grant he was given from Indivisible. Again, so inspiring and what a gift to have known him, even for such a short time.

One of the lessons I learned in Malcom’s sessions was to know your limits. You do not help a civil disobedience team if you are the weakest link. I’m glad I tried it. Physically I would be the weak link where authorities would break through, ruining the whole effort. I had to learn to know my place, stay in my lane, help where it made the most sense. It was the head of the local ACLU who said, sure its sexy to be in the protest but they need volunteers in the back rooms filing stuff and answering phones. There is room in this movement and any movement for all different kinds of participation and activism.

Francisco Aguirre Velasquez

I sat for two hours on the porch rocking chairs at McMennimens listening to Francisco’s story which started at age six or seven. When he was a young boy in El Salvador, he witnessed the murder of his family when his house was blown up. All because his father would not give his farm land to the soldiers, and he would not join the army and carry a gun as a small boy.

He was whisked away through an underground network of people, who often didn’t even share their name, so that if he was caught and tortured he would not be able to give them up. They made sure he had money, clothes, food and transportation to the next location. He left home barefoot with the clothes on his back and some loose change in his pocket, not sure if his dad was still alive or had escaped. He eventually made it to the US alive due to this tremendous informal mutual aid effort. More ordinary people stepping up and doing what was right.

He came through Mexico and eventually ended up in the United States. At one point he returned home under cover, against the advice of those who knew him trying to find his dad. After following many leads he eventually found his dad had escaped. But by the time he found him, he himself was escaping again in the fields only to run into his father’s murdered body.

He witnessed so much horror growing up. Physically he escaped it to the United States but it took years beyond that to emotionally heal. His journey in the United States was not the most welcoming either. For his life’s work he helped other immigrants new to the country, showing them how to navigate the system and make sure they were doing what they needed to do to be in the United States legally. This work placed a taret on his back by local police where he ran into trouble due to bad advice from a mediocre lawyer that was assigned to him who didn’t speak or understand his language, nor did he understand English at the time.

This led to ICE agents wanting to track him down and send him bacck home. If he were to be sent back to El Salvador he knew he would be murdered immediately. Friends and advocates helped him get his record corrected, but he still fears the day he could be ordered to leave. Part of this journey included hiding in Augustana Church, a true sanctuary church, that protected him for months on end. (note; Augustana invited all of the local churches to meet to talk about how to follow them and become either a sanctuary church or a support for a sanctuary church. And at the meeting gave all credit to learning how do be a Sanctuary Church from the Black Church and the Civil Rights Movement led by Black Americans.)

When he married a Mexican woman and started a family he continued to do important advocate work along the west coast. His family helped him with this work. His son was tired of the harrassment from police. His son went back to El Salvador, thinking he would find “home” and escape the craziness here, since he didn’t feel at home in the US with all of the police harrassment of his family. He was a teenager and didn’t listen to the family telling him not to go. His son was murdered in the middle of the day on a soccer field and his body was left on the field all weekend. The authorities said to make sure Francisco knew what had happened. It was a message to him.

In hearing his story, and how much violence and sorrow he has been through I wondered why he didn’t simply run and hide more permanently. He said, helping these people is what his purpose was here on earth. It was a spiritual journey for him. He was really beyond ordinary to me, but I still wanted to tell his story and have him be a part of this project. He is an inspiration to all of us to find our purpose and live it to the fullest.

June

June sees herself as an armchair activist. She’s a makeup artist for actors and actresses so her life and talents are all about the visual. It makes sense that her ordinary small acts are all about wearing small things that cause people to strike up conversations with her about Palestine. She also has small products in her shop she gives her patrons, when she is not doing movie makeup, to educate folks on what is going on in Palestine. I saw her strength when I got to represent her in our IATSI union because a theater patron was challenging her on jewelry she was wearing. The patron chased her about and harrassed her calling her all kinds of names. The arts are a place where we challenge people to think, compell them to be compassionate, and share a diversity of views, all of which are political. June never shoved her ideas down anyone else’s throat, but rather engaged in dialogue when folks came to her inquiring. But in this case, there was no inquiry, just attack. From that day on, her colleagues joined her in wearing jewelry that spoke to the wish for peace in that area and backed June to keep standing up for what she believed in.

Jackie

Jackie is young and full of energy, as she leads the cause in getting universal health care for Oregonians. She is the Portland Chapter lead. I love when folks who have been on the planet less than a third of my life, teach me things.

She was a nurse who had a passion for helping those who are marginalized and less fortunate. She often worked with the unhoused and heard and experienced so many horror stories about our broken health care system. So when the opportunity presented itself for her to help make positive change she could not pass that up.

She helped me understand the process of testifying at the state capital and inspired me to inspire others to write letters and testify in favor of creating a better health care system for Oregonoians and sharing what we felt was importan to the plan. Her energy is contageous and she is helping Oregon make history.

Lisa

Lisa is an artist with food. Food is her love language. She donates money to local food mutual aid projects, which she knows goes a lot further than her cooking. But that is not enough for her. She also, on a weekly basis, cooks up incredible full meals, and packages them beautifully in environmentally sound but beautiful packaging. She delivers these to the local food refridgerators that you can find around Portland. Her favorite refridgerator spot near Killingsworth and 15th also has a food pantry, a clothes rack, and a barista who passes out coffee. I went along with her on a delivery to repurposed some of my favorite clothing that no longer fits me, and got to witness the reactions of the people who received her gift. At first they were surprised to get a fully cooked delicious meal, vs a can of corn or something like that. Then they were completely touched by the care and love that went into the presentation of the food in how it was packaged. I watched a woman cry, because she felt like she had been seen, like someone actually cared about her vs dumped the things they couldn’t use. Lisa is an amazing human being doing great mutual aid work. Yes those larger food shelf type places are needed, but there is room for all types of creativity and love in the work we do in community.

Naomi

I purposely had to share Naomi’s story because it countered the priveleged folks who chose to lead with a blind eye to the things that were happening around us. It countered folks who couldn’t talk to me about what was going on, none the less listen to me because they “had kids they were responsible for and if anything happened to them, what would their kids do.” Naomi cancelled the narrative that says you can’t get involved because you are too busy or involvement might hurt your family. Naomi is a full time career woman, who is married and is also a typical soccer mom. We met at Augustana and realized we were both pastor’s daughters and connected right away. She was the one who first got me active in local Portland protests. We became protest buddies, never going alone, always informing each other of new opportunities, and taking time for joy inbetween. Naomi joined the East Side PDX safety team with me. Besides learning that community and action cancels fear, I also learned from Naomi balance. Somedays the news was so overwhelming, I just felt like I couldn’t do enough to battle it all. But Naomi also showed me how to balance and say no to some things knowing this is a slow long distance race and there will always be other things I can say yes to. As for her kid, she has raised an intelligent, smart young daughter who has a voice of her own and we all know, its the youth who will really bring the change we need. Kudos to Naomi!

Carmen

At one time, Portland had a Black Community. It was descimated by flooding and regentrification. If you read history you will find there are “Katrina” stories like this one all over the U.S. This is Portland’s Katrina story. Carmen still lives in the neighborhood that at one time was a middle class Black neighborhood. She has many connections and knows who is who in the Black community. As a professor of Black History, an author and community elder, she knew the importance of bringing the Black community together in response to what was going on. A lot of us were involved in a local indivisible chapter, or protests, or other efforts in our neighborhood, but there was a need for a space for just Black folks to get together, talk about what was going on and at a minimum stay up to date on what was happening. Carmen also led us in actions affecting things that were happening locally like school board meetings and city council hearings. She connected us to local Black politicians teaching us how to be involved and show up, since those who show up write the story. And she connected us with old school local Black Panthers who shared stories of how the Black Panthers worked in the past, and made connections to what all of that meant for things happening now and into the future. We too practiced civil disobedience, in case we ever needed to show up for the real deal. We discussed the past movements with leaders and the trend of leaderless movements, the difference between moments and movements and what kind of a blend of all of these efforts would need. What a treat to be connected to history live! A shout out to Carmen who did something so revolutionary, having folks over for tea and snacks to talk about the community in her living room, and giving Black folks a space to feel safe and talk freely. Thank you Carmen.

Cat

Last but not really last because there are so many more. These are just the ten I kept up with. Cat became a writer later in life as she noticed she had not been taught all of history in school. But rather she had been taught one perspective of history and so many other perspectives had been stifled. Having a trans loved one in her life, who she still keeps the identity of safe. This relationship shaped a lot of who Cat is as an author. Her books bring to life the voices of marginalized people.

So of course her books are among the banned, so, she naturally spilled over into fighting the banned book movement and became the lead voice for Oregon’s Author’s Against Banned Books fight.

I hope that as you read this something strikes a note with you and lights a fire. My hope is that one of these stories will inspire you to use your gifts, if you are not already, to fight fascism.

Cat is just one more example of way you could get involved in whatever state you are in. She inspired me to buy banned books and put them in free book libraries, and give them to kids who might not have access in their schools anymore.

She also was the first person to better educate me on the experiences of our trans population. Thank goodness for people like Cat who are willing to put their time in for folks who are underrepresented, and literally terrified with the state of things in our country right now.

I am so grateful there are so many more people doing good things than people practicing evil selfish practices here in our country. I am so grateful I am here today and have the opportunity to stand up with these people. I am so grateful for all of you out there doing the things you are doing. Remember to share your stories with those around you so others might not feel so helpless and lost and can figure out how they might fit in, raise consciousness, improve things for all of us. Thank you for reading another blog by me.