March 1, 2017
Vol. XI
Issue VI
Life Cycle: Fight, Educate, Rest, Repeat
Race in Ashland: Inexperience, Not Hate
I was born and raised in Nairobi, Kenya. The summer of 2011 my family and I moved to Ashland, Oregon. It has been a frustrating journey of selfdiscovery. In Kenya I went to Rosslyn Academy International School. While I was there I was basically color blind. There were 43 countries represented, yet race wasn’t a focal point. I knew and understood that people were from around the world, but I didn’t hear accents and I didn’t identify people with their race. I could’ve grown up not knowing what racial discrimination was. I never would have had to worry about strangers judging me by my skin tone or touching me without my consent. I wouldn’t have had to fight for 4 years to show this school and town that racism is not a thing of the past. Coming here, my brothers and I were immediately defined by our skin color. I went from living in a world where everybody looked like me, to a place where it is dangerous to look like me. Being “black” has forced me to grow up much faster than other kids. When I was 12 years old, I was asked if I knew how to twerk, to run track and to accept the n-word as a term to be addressed by. That same year, I was called out for being the only black student on the basketball team by my coach. When my family and I confronted him about it, he lied and said he would never say such a thing. The school sided with him and let me believe that I was wrong to be offended. Around Homecoming this year, I was informed that my back tail light was out. That usually wouldn’t worry many people because it was an easy fix, but I was terrified. I spent weeks driving as carefully as possible because I’m scared of being pulled over. After being exposed to so much police brutality on the news, I didn’t want to die at the hand of a police officer because I had a tail light out. Can you imagine that obituary? “Young female, 17 years old, cause of death: driving while black.” I am overwhelmed with fear. I know not all cops are bad, but the I don’t want to take any chances. My pigment comes with a price. Over the last four years I have organized The Citywide MLK Celebrations, founded a racial equality club, became a member of the Black Student Union, co-written a 4-part series on Diversity and Inclusion for the school newspaper, and have been on local television to speak about Diversity and Inclusion. I have also directed, acted and produced plays about Black Lives Matter through the nationwide Every 28 Hours Plays performed at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival and yet, there is still work to be done. My mother told me once, “I know you’re tired but, this is something you’ll always have to do. If you don’t educate people, then who will?” Sometimes I want to put down my protest signs and just be a kid but being a minority doesn’t give you that freedom. I will continue to educate this community but you have to start listening. It is not enough to share an inspirational story on Facebook or attend the MLK Assembly. We need to interrupt racism everyday. We need to call each other out when we’ve made a racist joke or made a biased assumption about someone. “In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends,” says Martin Luther King Jr. We can’t afford to be silent. We need to fight for racial equality with more passion than ever before. Now is the time to unite.
Before I moved to Oregon, and long before I was born, my family and I visited Ashland every summer. I always enjoyed my stays in Ashland, but after I moved here I was surprised by how difficult it was to not be white. What makes Ashland a different experience for people of color isn’t the amount of hate towards minorities, it’s the sheer lack of interaction with them. When people say things like “How can your skin be tan during winter?” or “But your mom is white?” it is a different type of racism. Some would label these encounters “micro aggressions” but the word “aggression” implies that comments like these come from a place of malice. Believe me, such comments exist; but the vast majority of racism in Ashland exists because residents with good intentions who simply aren’t used to interacting with people of color. Pointing out my skin color is a nagging reminder that I am out of the ordinary – a feeling that Asian-Americans know all too well given that we are almost never shown in media beyond Kung-Fu action flicks and non-speaking roles. It’s bothersome to me to put up with these comments, but I have to remember that the world I come from is different from Ashland. In my home, the Bay Area, it is impossible to grow up without making friends or at least acquaintances with someone from every major ethnic group. I owe a lot of thanks to all of the friends who have been patient with me and corrected my mistakes. After all, every person of color has had different experiences, and mine are the only ones in which I can claim expertise. I continue learning from other people of color, but now that I live in a town that is 90% white, I feel that my responsibilities have shifted to teaching rather than learning. This is a job that I don’t want, but like so many people of color in Ashland, it is one that I have taken on and one that makes me exhausted. On multiple occasions I’ve sat at home crying, dreading the inevitable comments that come with good intentions but end up wasting my time and energy. I’ve sat at home dreading the next incident to come because I know that I ruffle feathers, that I am seen as the “loud activist” I never wanted to be. This is a burden that every person of color in Ashland shares. This year, for example, a number of audience members at the citywide MLK day celebration left in the middle of a speech that pointed out Ashland’s many flaws. It became clear to me that merely suggesting that Ashland isn’t perfect could alienate me from the town. Like so many times before, I wished I could live in ignorance and say that everything is OK. The thing is, I am one of few minority kids in all of my classes, and often the only person of color when I’m in a store or restaurant downtown. There are good-hearted Ashlanders who will object to obvious racism, but I worry about the subtle problems - the ones that are overlooked by those who haven’t experienced racism first hand. No matter how many people are bothered by what minorities have to say about Ashland, I can’t help but feel like these problems will never be resolved if we don’t take a stand.
editorial by guest writer Grace Pruitt
photos by Ian Rinefort
editorial by guest writer Halle Lowe
artwork by Lily Annen