The Plum Turns Yellow

June 15–19, 2021; Portland, OR, USA

I’ve returned from a much-anticipated trip across the country to spend a long weekend with some long-time professional colleagues, who are now dear friends. Portland, Oregon, was also a homecoming for me, having spent four summers there during college. I didn’t know exactly what to expect, but it was a great trip, with lots to reflect upon.

It was a tale of two cities, one might say, each with very different trajectories. Downtown, where we stayed, was shuttered. Literally. Boarded up windows on street level. The city had not yet lifted its mask mandate, but business was slowly coming back online. Many retailers not yet open must have needed this protection from looters, protesters, or others with nefarious intentions. The streets themselves had a mix of tourists, young Portlanders, and homeless. Loads of homeless, of all ethnicities and genders. In tents, wandering around, sitting in public places, etc. Particularly in the evening, they ruled the roost. This gave the city a distinctly dystopian feel.

Curiously, the homeless (or those sleeping rough), did not harass pedestrians. They did harass each other, however, and there were some difficult dramas playing out. Having lived overseas for the past decade-plus, I’m certainly not ignorant of the destitute. I’ve seen South Asia on several occasions, after all, as well as many US cities. Economic distress blended with serious mental health and substance abuse issues (not sure which was driving which) created a deadly storm, one surely made worse by the pandemic.

In one surreal moment, as we ran up a large bill eating a bountiful lunch, we watched the homeless, many within a few feet of us, go about their business — mostly, sitting on the ground, slowly walking to nowhere in particular, or trying to hustle some loose change out of a Saturday market crowd. It created a profound moment of reflection for each of us. How does a society so wealthy and advanced in so many ways turn its back on so many people? Why is it so easy for us to ignore on a personal level?

I know the issue is complex, and I don’t know the solution, but the problem feels much worse than it used to be. It will not go away on its own, nor will it be solved without all of us investing in it. Some may say it starts with caring. I think it goes much deeper. On the plane ride back to Boston, I rewatched Won’t You Be My Neighbor? (the documentary about the radical activist, Mr. Rogers, not the Tom Hanks movie). Have you ever heard something and felt the speaker was speaking to you only, staring into your soul? If you know anything about Fred Rogers, you’d know this was his superpower. I believe Mr. Rogers would say that the homeless issue in America is really about love. To quote him directly, “(people need protection) from the every ready molders of their world.” Furthermore, “Love is what keeps us together and afloat.” When will we start loving those who cannot get themselves together?

The trip allowed me to hike in perhaps my favorite of all places to walk, the Columbia River Gorge. A marvel of geology and geomorphology, and very well maintained and protected, the trails offered an escape from the pandemic, and they were teaming with people, young and old (which am I?), each incredibly friendly and positive. In three successive days, on the Cape Horn, the Devil’s Rest, and the Horsetail Falls trails, I was able to cover 25 miles and several thousand vertical feet. Incredibly cathartic, and inordinately beautiful.

How fortunate and privileged am I, to fly across the country, dine and laugh with friends, and hike in God’s country? The experience did serve as a bit of a wake-up call. As I think about my last decade of employment (hopefully!), and how our children are now adult-age and will soon find their own way, I feel greater urgency to think less about me and more about the larger “us”. We start life in a “taking” stage, and then we build a career of “doing”. At some point, the doing needs to turn to “giving”, where you are truly making a positive and selfless contribution to the world. Imagine if every one of us on this planet chose to make such a transition? I’ll write more about how I plan to accelerate my giving in the coming weeks.

Image credits: self