The College Years

If L.A. is high school, Portland is college. The drama of high school is exchanged in search of personal identity, be it through the strangest possible hobbies or the most classic career paths. And everyone seems just a little bit grimy, like they chose to read or discuss Baudelaire instead of showering before heading out for their day. It's grungy, it's weird, and I really, really liked it.

We started out at Voodoo Donuts, the Pancake Pantry of Portland. By the time we got there, a line out the door and around the corner had begun to form. All for donuts covered in Coco Puffs, Fruit Loops, Oreo, or bacon. Recently featured in Anthony Bourdain's "No Reservations" on the Travel Channel, Voodoo was the kind of kitschy place every city of comparable size needs, with a strong blend of local regulars and curious tourists.

I had a donut with Coco Puffs and toured the Saturday market on the riverfront, which, while much larger, reminded me of the farmer's markets and festivals back home in Illinois. Organic clothing, natural soaps, crafty jewelry and bags, earthenware, henna, flowers, cat toys and food stands full of ethnic cuisine dipped in grease.

I spoke with one Greenpeace volunteer who said she'd like to see America united by a common goal towards the well being and health of their fellow humans, and it got me thinking, "Don't we?" Definitions are changed up, and how we definite "common goal" may vary, but for the most part, most people want what they think is best for themselves, their loved ones, and their fellow man. with few exceptions, there are not many people who explicitly wish ill will upon other men and women.

Perhaps my definition of "well being" may not include "EPA regulations on all greenhouse gases" but I'd like to think I'm a pretty charitable girl. The thought stuck with me, and came up again when I sat in Powell's Books with Amir, a thirty-something man reading in the foreign language section of the store. He was reading up on Anarchism and Libertarianism, though he considered himself a Socialist, himself. He was trying to decide between learning Chinese or Hindi, as he anticipated one of the two would be the next superpower, and his language skills might help in the impending transition. I told him if he wanted socialism, he should be learning Swedish, but he just laughed and said, "Honey, the reason Sweden is so happy being socialist is because it's homogeneous. There's not room for me there."

He explained that because the majority race and class is SO extensive, Swedes see their neighbors as brothers and sisters. They look alike, they act alike, they work alike, so socialism is easy. America could never make it work because there are too many wedges, too many reasons for people to hate, too many chances for politicians to step on those wedges on their way to power, driving them deeper into American culture. If America was all one race, it'd get along fine, too.

While I'm not sure I buy into the homogeneous claims, he does make an interesting point. Is our multiculturalism actually a weak point? If we were all similar, chance are greater our unity would be as well. Our causes would be similar, our forms of communication much easier to navigate, but our world would be that much more boring, wouldn’t it?

Our trip is supposed to be focusing on what unites us as Americans, and it’s not always easy to find that unity, but on days like these, I wonder if what unites us is our disunity. We’re a dysfunctional family, America, all going in different ways, pulling at different issues, trying to make the rest of the group see it our way. It’s not effective, but it certainly is a universal factor of social movements in this country. It is certainly “American” to disagree and protest. We started that way, and we’ll probably end the same way.

But there is a beauty to that, too. We’re all pulling and fighting, but we also have our bases covered. Every issue has a voice, and gets a voice here. I can’t deny I disagreed with Greenpeace girl and Amir both, but I’m glad they’ve found a way to put words to their passions. I’m glad I got to hear them and learn.

At dinner, Pierce said Portland feels like it’s full of those weird kids who never said anything during high school and you always wondered where they went after graduation. It was definitely weird, but I don’t think it’s a high school kind of town. Portland feels more like a crazy liberal arts university, full of kids trying to figure out who they are and how they stand out against the rest of their world. They’re the college students of America, and I have to say, I kind of love it.