All we wanted to do was see the Space Needle. The Seattle Center was absolutely crazy, though; there were people everywhere. Once we managed to park and took a few pictures, my friend Alex and I wandered around to see what everyone was there for. The answer became immediately apparent: The 40th annual Northwest Folklife Festival@@http://www.nwfolklifefestival.org/@@ was going on all around us.
By that time, we’d been in the car for about 12 of the preceding 24 hours. I had been to all of the stops on our itinerary before; basically, I was a tour guide on a weekend trip all over the Northwest.
First, to Crater Lake, where we couldn’t see the water because it was snowing so hard that visibility was maybe five feet. Then to Bend, which is a city I’ve only visited as a child, even though I’ve lived in Oregon my whole life. I was shocked at how much development had taken place.
Central Oregon is pretty sparsely populated, so when we finally got to Seattle, the number of people was jarring. Maybe it was that juxtaposition that made me pause, or maybe it was just my pre-existing knowledge of the Northwest, but I was quickly lost in thought as I walked through the booths at the festival.
In one exhibition hall, couples danced the Argentinian tango. Folk music was being performed on a stage outside. Bulgarian, Thai, Peruvian and Israeli music and folklore were on display for wide-eyed passersby. As I watched, I couldn’t help marveling at the fact that all of the people I saw were from the Northwest.
It probably seems like I’m ignorant when I say a thing like that, but reflect for a moment on the diversity of campus, Eugene or the Northwest. Compared to other parts of the U.S., the diversity of the Northwest really isn’t that significant.
That phrase, though, that our diversity “isn’t really that significant,” does more damage than most people realize, I think. While it is statistically true that the Pacific Northwest is more white than a lot of other places, there are communities of color in every city.
To say the Northwest is uniform is to ignore this fact and to inadvertently (or perhaps intentionally) ignore the contributions that marginalized groups make to Northwest culture. Worse, it creates a space for marginalized groups defined and delineated by the majority. The current plan is apparently to relegate minority populations to yearly “folklife” festivals, as if “Northwest” life is something higher and more relevant.
Though we should be conscious of what we make of race and ethnicity statistics, we ignore them at our peril. Portland and Seattle are the #1 and #2 whitest major cities in America. @@http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/06/18/AR2006061800605.html@@ The percent of urbanites who have more than a high school diploma is more than double the same percentage in rural cities. Predictably, the income disparity is also enormous. @@Stats from city-data.com@@
It’s also important to be mindful of the fact that demographic statistics, while snapshots of a place and a time, also have more to them. Portland, the whitest city in the U.S. for several years now, is becoming even less diverse. @@WP article again@@ As population centers, and as major cultural hubs of our region, it becomes even more important that residents of cities like Portland and Seattle consider the impact they currently have on the “culture” of the Northwest, and if that culture is really inclusive of the variegated backgrounds in this region, or just of their whiteness and their privilege. In terms of the folklife festival, is it really an opportunity for minority communities to participate, or is it an opportunity for the majority to engage in a little cultural tourism?
Oregon and Washington are renowned for their geography. The deserts, the mountains, the valleys and the oceans all feel different. But we never seem to connect that diversity to the people who live there.
Maybe I’m reflective because this is my last column and my last week of school before I graduate. But I’m writing this conclusion at the gum wall beneath Pike Place Market, wondering about the people who collaborated to make it. Surely they weren’t all the granola-munching earth children that Northwesterners are supposed to be.
“I feel like it’s fake,” I said to Alex as we drove through Seattle last night. “I feel like people come here to pretend.” I’ve always felt like that, as a working-class kid from rural Oregon, my story doesn’t belong there. But it could. Like the gum wall, or the very environment around us. It could, but it doesn’t. Not yet.