As the case for George Floyd’s murder was settled over a week ago for $27 million, I’m reminded of the protests that erupted in his name months ago. Taking to the streets, Black activists mobilized the nation to, for once, put Black lives front and center in national conversations.  
I, though, want to focus on a microcosm of the protests: Eugene. Eugene was one many cities that seemed to never settle with protests. But it has one major difference: it is predominately White. Indeed, reflecting on Black Lives Matter protests in Eugene seem inseparable from the image of White liberalism. 
 Take the Wall of Moms, for example. Older White women took to the streets, brandishing their body as a wall of privilege to protect protesters. Media directed their attention to them. Countless articles interviewing the moms instead of the protesters changed the narrative of a wall of bodies into a wall of voices, shunting activists into the shadows. The consequence is that Eugene’s White populus is perceived nationwide as a liberal haven. White people are not seen as the problem, but instead the newsworthy saviors. 
In Eugene, this constructed narrative is just that — constructed. Eugene has a deeply racist history with blood on the hands of Whites. Coloring Eugene as liberal haven is not only false, but it glosses over an important history of oppression.
In Eugene, especially as a student at UO, we are inundated with “acknowledgement” that our university and more stand on Kalapuyan Indigenous land. In doing so, we walk on campus reminded but not guilt ridden by an exodus that occurred over a century ago. ‘It was so long ago, we can’t do anything about it,’ a student rationalizes.  
But there is another racially motivated exodus that did not happen long ago. In 19­­58, Eugene’s minuscule Black community, the Ferry Street Village, was bulldozed at the expense of its Black inhabitants. Chrisianne Beckner’s thesis, “Cultural Demolition: What Was Lost When Eugene Razed its First Black Neighborhood?” tells this unknown story. At Ferry Street, the first generation of Black Americans came to Eugene. Excluded from the main city lines, they settled on the outskirts. The land became increasingly valuable as dams were constructed near the village, protecting it from common flooding.
What did White people do? I’m sure this will come as a shock, so take a seat as you read this. They evicted the residents and bulldozed the community. Beckner writes that race and class were inseparable from this issue; the city refused to legitimize the claims of a Black resident whose possessions were demolished. The Black neighborhood was labeled as “poor,” branding its plight as the resurrection of a “failing downtown.”
This is Eugene’s history with Black people. Today, the injustices have expanded to multiple groups of color. Between 2013 and 2017, Eugene led the nation with a 380% increase in hate crimes to 139 in 2017 alone. This included Black, Hispanic, Muslim, Jewish and LGBTQ+ members of the community. It’s disgusting, but this is the reality of this white-washed city in this white-washed state. I’m sick of hearing otherwise. 
I don’t believe that the Wall of Moms has any malicious intent. Nor do I think the photos of entirely White people at Black Lives Matter protests are depicting racists. What it does show, though, is White liberalism and the subsequent media coverage’s clear failure to grasp what is at the heart of progress and protest for People of Color. Because, in Eugene, the Wall of Moms are not just bodies. In Eugene, the White protesters are not just allies. In Eugene, they are the center of attention, shunting every relevant story of oppression and exodus into the shadow behind Eugene’s image of prosperous acceptance and White liberalism.
Eugene is not a liberal haven. It is a White one. Ingrained in the city’s very construction and identity is the exclusion of People of Color. So, I don’t want to hear about how “moms are nothing if not prepared.” I don’t want to hear kudos for the images of White crowds. These stories, like the ones of the Kalapuya, the three original Black families that were exiled from the city and the People of Color who continue to be victimized: These are the stories that matter. Putting them front and center means putting to bed this sensationalized narrative of Eugene as a liberal haven.