The Civil war (inside our hearts, as well as across society)

Several weeks ago, a group of active and well-meaning people organized a civility summit in Portland. Held in the cavernous ballroom of the Portland State University student center, it was something of a tragic farce – not because it wasn’t decently organized, and not because its aims aren’t laudable and even necessary . . . but because it was hijacked. Badly.

Carole and I went, skeptical but hopeful and supportive. A panel of nonprofit leaders, local elected officials, and law enforcement officers related stories of recent, disturbing incidents of incivility in Portland, as well as acts of assistance and kindness. The former included accounts of abusive street behavior, a vagrant begging leftovers from passersby and then disgustedly tossing the food in the gutter because he doesn’t like pasta, and drunk and disorderly young people from the suburbs whooping it up downtown or on the MAX light rail train.

One story showed that deteriorating behavior on the streets could (and probably has) cost the city huge amounts of money. A representative of Travel Oregon, the nonprofit that promotes tourism and conventions, was taking a pair of event planners from out of town around the city when a panhandler accosted them, wouldn’t take no, followed them onto a MAX train, and made them fear for their safety. The impact of a lost 2018 convention event and possibly the spread of the story to other planners could conceivably be in the millions. This and other stories were noted in an op-ed in the Portland Business Journal a week later.

But back to the hijacking of the Oct. 1 summit. The initial presentation by the organizers was fine. But shortly after they opened the floor for questions and comments, a grizzled and physically disabled military veteran got up and hurled a thunderous speech at the panel. The gist was that life on the streets is dangerous and even fatal to homeless folks. He climaxed by roaring: “56 people died on the streets of Portland last year, and you’re worried about LITTERING??!!!”

It was one of the finest set-pieces of dramatic rhetoric I’d seen in a long time. It was also wrong-headed and beside the point.

When a moderator tried either to respond or to open the floor to others, the man interrupted several times and continued to yell, profanely. Carrying himself as if he were Horatius at the bridge, defending civilization itself against the barbarians, he only heightened the irony of his behavior at a public meeting on civility.

Unfortunately, when the discussion finally moved on, we were treated to a steady parade of ragged-looking young adults talking about living on the streets and histories of abuse, their rights and need for respect, etc. Carole and I suspected some activist must have brought them over from a service agency and coached them on what to say.

It may have involved some spillover from a current, ongoing public debate about where to move a homeless camp that has sat for two years, quasi-legally, between Old Town/Chinatown and central downtown, within the shadow of the U.S. Bancorp Tower (aka “Big Pink”), one of the city’s two tallest buildings. (You have to credit whoever’s in charge of these people’s organization and PR; they call their camp “Right to Dream Too” . . . R2D2 for short.)

What the kids at the summit had to say was mostly beside the point, however, and it drove serious discussion of the larger issues out the window. Nobody was attacking homelessness or street kids per se -- but uncivil behavior, by ANYONE.

If any of the people in that room who were stoutly defending their dignity had assaulted others on the street, or defecated on the sidewalk, or tossed litter in the park, then perhaps they might correctly regard themselves as targets of the summit.

But I’ll bet most of them hadn’t. Instead, they were indulging in a public performance as professional victims.

Even Street Roots, the newspaper written and sold by homeless and low-income citizens, and usually quite perceptive and on the mark about so many subjects, from Occupy Wall Street to climate change, bought the spin that the civility summit had been another attempt to demonize people who are trying to survive on the streets.

The point of the summit, it seems to me, was to encourage EVERYONE to wake up, operate with greater alertness and respect for the community, and police themselves as well as support and admonish their neighbors when necessary. Incivility includes:

·      Texting while driving

·      Tossing cigarette butts on the street

·      Crossing the street against a “Don’t Walk” signal, further holding up drivers who have waited patiently for earlier pedestrians

·      Shoplifting

·      Skateboarding or drawing on public art

·      Riding mass transit without paying for a ticket or pass

·      Ridiculing a person’s looks or clothing

·      Running a red or yellow light

·      Holding back on a compliment or thank-you that crosses your mind but not your lips

Most of the items above are not peculiar to the homeless and street people. In fact, the vast majority of such outrages to civility are not committed by them, but by the rest of us.

Portland certainly does have a “homeless problem.” But most of the public debate I’ve seen on the subject simplifies and confuses a very complex situation. From my 22 years as a resident of the city, especially the past eight years when I’ve lived in the heart of downtown, I have observed at least three and possibly more varieties of very different folks that routinely and mistakenly get lumped under the casual term “homeless.”

Many of them aren’t homeless at all. Some of them don’t even appear to want a home, or a job. Many are not from Portland or even the state of Oregon, and they certainly don’t seem to regard themselves as members of this community, or aspire to be. But that’s a subject for another day.

Here’s what we should have said to the shouting vet: Yes, we are concerned about littering. It’s just one of many expressions of disrespect for our community . . . for the idea of community itself. When you toss litter on the ground, you’re saying, in effect: I don’t consider myself connected to the rest of you, so why should you accord me any consideration? That applies to anyone who tosses litter, from a street panhandler to a banker.

Just because you’re homeless doesn’t mean you should feel free to toss your cigarette butts in the park, a few paces from a trash barrel . . . or allow your pit bull to defecate in the grass without picking up the excrement and disposing of it . . .  or urinate and squat there yourself when the city has gone to the trouble and expense of installing a $60,000 public restroom for free public use a block or two away. (There are now seven of them downtown: one stands just two blocks from my apartment, and another on the waterfront which I show to tourists every time I lead a Portland Walking Tour.)

But the civility movement is not just targeting what used to be known as vagrants. It implicates all of us. In response to everything from the mass shootings in Tucson and at Sandy Hook Elementary to cyber-bullying and political talk radio, other U.S. cities have hosted civility events and initiatives, including Washington County, Maryland; Freeborn County, Minnesota; Portland, Maine; and Miami.

It began in Howard County, Maryland because that’s close to Baltimore and Johns Hopkins University, where Professor P.M. Forni directs the Civility Project. Carole and I are reading his first book, Choosing Civility: the twenty-five rules of considerate conduct, aloud over meals. Forni’s second book, The Civility Solution: what to do when people are rude, awaits.

I plan to write more about encouraging civil behavior, as well as homelessness and street people in Portland, here in the coming weeks.