Meet Sirius Bonner: the executive director of INTERSECT, an organization redefining what’s possible for gender equity in Oregon. Here she shares what fuels her dedication to this work and a robust list of resources to expand our knowledge of intersectionality.

What’s new at INTERSECT?

Last spring, we launched the Gender Justice Navigator. It’s a first-of-its-kind tool that maps gender-focused organizations in our state. The tool is amazing, and the data we’re getting from it is so rich and telling about the state of the gender justice field in Oregon. We also recently held our Gender Justice Summit at the Oregon Coalition Against Domestic and Sexual Violence (OCADSV) Conference where we brought together advocates, allies and community leaders from all over the state, which has set the stage for some cohort work. Earlier this week we did an awesome training with the entire Portland Trail Blazers staff, and along with our regular training offerings around intersectionality and LGBTQIA2S+ allyship, etc., we’re also adding new ones on Reproductive Justice and Anti-Blackness in the new year!

What motivates you in this work?

I dream of a world where my daughter doesn’t face the same barriers and challenges that I and my ancestors faced. I’m driven by a vision of equity and justice, where everyone has the opportunity to thrive, and communities are interconnected and empowered. I believe in the power of collective action to transform systems that have long been unjust. It’s both humbling and invigorating to work with such courageous individuals and communities, and their perseverance fuels my own.

What are some lessons you’ve learned throughout your career?

I've learned the importance of authenticity, listening deeply and honoring people's lived experiences to make real progress. Change takes time and requires resilience. Collaboration is essential; no one can do this work alone. And I’m learning to celebrate the small victories, knowing they pave the way for bigger successes.

What future do you envision for yourself and the communities you work in?

We envision a future where gender equity is embedded in all facets of society, with marginalized communities leading the way. My hope is that INTERSECT becomes a pillar of support for sustainable, community-led change that dismantles oppressive systems and uplifts historically marginalized voices– especially considering the current social and political climate. For myself, I see a role that continues to drive systemic change and expands INTERSECT’s reach to advocate for justice at state and national levels. I hope to see a time when justice and equity are achieved, and we are actively building toward liberation for all.

What's bringing you joy these days?

Are you sure you want to ask a culture and media nerd with a passion for intersectional oppression analysis a question like this? Okay, here goes…

I saw the recent Portland Center Stage production of Sweeney Todd twice, and it was amazing. The mostly BIPOC cast and a production that challenges gender norms breathed new life into such an important and exciting classic.

Agatha All Along! The witchy, queer vibes of this show are perfect for this Fall. And [spoiler] the Black character not only lives, but she also reclaims her power from the clutches of White Feminism™!

INTERSECT’s Gender Justice Summit in Sunriver was such a powerful and enriching experience. It was the perfect grounding ahead of the election, and I left feeling fortified and ready for whatever is coming next!

Could you suggest any resources for people to learn more about gender justice?

Our media landscape is incredibly complex, and people and institutions are flawed. So this is less an endorsement of any specific people or institutions and more an acknowledgment of their contributions to a wider conversation.

Honestly, the thing I would suggest most is to spend some time thoughtfully curating your social media feeds and (re)training your algorithms…if you’re still doing social media, that is. I encourage you to engage with many resources to see multiple perspectives on your learning journey.

But here are some other ideas:

Books

Sister Outsider by Audre Lorde (1984)

Hood Feminism: Notes from the Women That a Movement Forgot by Mikki Kendall (2020)

Intersectionality as Critical Social Theory by Patricia Hill Collins (2019)

Beyond the Gender Binary by Alok Vaid-Menon (2020)

The Crunk Feminist Collection edited by Brittney Cooper, Susana M. Morris, and Robin M. Boylorn (2017)

Redefining Realness: My Path to Womanhood, Identity, Love & So Much More by Janet Mock (2014)

Fearing the Black Body: The Racial Origins of Fat Phobia by Sabrina Strings (2020)

Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents by Isabel Wilkerson (2020)

And the 2023 film by Ava DuVernay

Heavy by Kiese Laymon (2018)

The Trouble with White Women: A Counterhistory of Feminism by Kyla Schuller (2023)

If I Were You, I'd Kill Myself by Imani Barbarin (UPCOMING RELEASE March, 2026)

Documentaries, Film, and Television

Disclosure directed by Sam Feder (2020)

Miss Representation directed by Jennifer Siebel Newsom (2011)

Paris is Burning directed by Jennie Livingston (1990)

13th directed by Ava DuVernay (2016)

I May Destroy You created by Michela Cole (2020)

Online Resources

Learning for Justice

National Resource Center on Domestic Violence - VAWnet

UN Women - Intersectionality Resource Guide and Toolkit

Catalyst - Inclusive Leadership Training and Gender Equity Resources

The Anti-Violence Project (AVP)

MMIW - Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women

Sirius Bonner smiles at photographer Muriel Hahn

Peering through the newly restored windows of the Billy Webb Elks Lodge, you would never know a fire devastated the building just three years ago. The ballroom chandeliers still glow with warm light; the wooden floors still smell of fresh polish. And if you close your eyes and listen closely, you can still hear the hum of conversation and laughter in the ballroom as soft jazz spills from the juke box.

Images like this fill Deborah Roache’s memory of her childhood. Before she became the fraternal organization’s Daughter Ruler, she grew up hearing stories about how the Lodge was the center of everyday life for generations of Black Oregonians.

Established in 1926 as a multiracial YWCA, it provided sanctuary for women of color and immigrants excluded from other spaces. Over the decades, it became a hub for civil rights efforts, community celebrations and cultural preservation — a steadfast symbol of belonging in the heart of Portland’s historic Black neighborhood.

"People don’t realize this place has a pulse,” Roache says. “It’s more than a building — it’s memories, it's family. There are very few spaces left where our community can feel at home, and Billy Webb is that kind of place."

The Lodge thrived as Albina’s Black community flourished, serving as a cornerstone of a neighborhood once brimming with culturally specific churches, jazz clubs, civil rights organizations and even the nation’s only Black Panther-sponsored dental clinic. Through waves of gentrification and urban renewal that displaced much of Portland’s Black population, the Lodge endured as a space where people could gather to support one another and give back to the community they loved.

But just after it gained recognition from the National Register of Historic Places in 2020, a fire tore through the building, taking with it yearslong renovation efforts. As the pandemic took its toll, membership numbers dropped and prospective rebuilding costs soared. Despite it all, Roache and Exalted Ruler, Lou McLemore, remained determined to preserve the Lodge’s legacy.

"Our history, our stories, they’re worth preserving," McLemore says. “If we lose places like this, we lose the cultural heartbeat of our city. We need to preserve Billy Webb not just for us, but for future generations to have a place to connect, celebrate and remember.”

The Albina Preservation Initiative — a collaboration between Restore Oregon, the University of Oregon Just Futures Institute, Oregon Black Pioneers, Moreland Resource Consulting, Clatsop Community College Historic Preservation Program and the Architectural Heritage Center — was among the first to respond. They brought in support from community members across the state. Constructing Hope apprentices helped with demolition; students from Clatsop Community College installed new windows. In late summer of this year, dozens gathered at the Black Preservation Symposium to shed light on Oregon’s efforts in the national movement to preserve Black places and stories.

“You cannot know our nation's history without knowing about Black history,” says Zachary Stocks, executive director of the Oregon Black Pioneers. “Every significant event, conflict and achievement which defines the American experience has involved people of African descent. Our ancestors' labors — often uncompensated labors — created the communities where we live today. And Black organizing made possible the legal and social victories of the Civil Rights Movements, which ensured the equal participation in American democracy for all citizens, regardless of race."

Today, only 3% of the sites listed on the National Register of Historic Places honor Black experiences. In Oregon — a state founded as a white utopia — it is 0.5%.

When Meyer became neighbors with the Lodge in 2020, we moved into Albina with an explicit commitment to honor this historic community. By investing in the Lodge as a Justice Oregon for Black Lives grantee, we joined local efforts to combat the erasure of what was once considered the Soul of Portland.

Now the Lodge is on the precipice of a new era, offering more gathering spaces for celebration and meeting rooms for the community to rent in a co-working style. As McLemore and Roache continue fundraising to preserve this piece of history, they join many Meyer grantees and community partners seeking to not only memorialize the past but also shape the future.

Williams & Russell CDC promises to build wealth and economic growth for the Black community, especially those who have been displaced. Through affordable housing and business opportunities, they envision a revival of what was once considered, “Black Broadway.” Albina Vision Trust is constructing what has been recognized as the largest restorative redevelopment effort in the nation. Spanning over 100 acres, they envision a thriving Albina with affordable homeownership, safer transportation and even the country’s first carbon-negative district.

In the Lodge, the returning community could also have a place steeped in the neighborhood's rich history. But only with more support.

"We’re ready to pass the torch," Roache says. "But we need fresh energy, new ideas and community support. We have a vision for Billy Webb that goes beyond its history; we want to make it a space that serves future needs — a place where Black Portlanders can come together, learn, create and thrive.”

To join Meyer’s investment in preserving the Billy Webb Elks Lodge, donate to their GoFundMe today.

Deborah Roache shows renovation progress during a tour of Albina

“When you get these jobs that you have been so brilliantly trained for, just remember that your real job is that if you are free, you need to free somebody else. If you have some power, then your job is to empower somebody else creative." - Toni Morrison

 

With the future of democracy at the forefront of our minds, we met up with Erin Kothari, the executive director of Oregon Futures Lab, to learn more about her organization’s philosophy on BIPOC leadership development and what keeps her grounded.

What drives you?

I come from a long line of strong women. I’m a hometown girl; a third-generation Japanese American originally from Gresham. My great-grandmother and grandmother ran a grocery store, and they worked hard to build something meaningful for their community. I feel a duty to carry that forward in my own way. It’s about justice, service and showing up for my community. I want to make a difference, but I also want to make sure that future leaders — especially those from underrepresented backgrounds — are set up to thrive.

What’s new at Oregon Futures Lab?

One of the main programs we launched in 2022 and continue today is called Care for Disruptive Leadership. It’s a six-month cohort program focused on trauma-informed care and wellness. We designed it to help local elected officials, especially those who are either the first or the only in their positions, find community, identify stressors and receive the support they need to continue their work. A major realization was that leaders need more than just technical skills — they need to be cared for and supported to succeed. The long-term goal is not just to sustain individuals, but to cultivate a leadership pipeline that reflects our communities and supports them throughout their journey.

How have other leadership programs been taking shape?

The BIPOC Executive Director Support Cohort is a program we launched this year, specifically for BIPOC executive directors. After extensive interviews with leaders across Oregon, we realized there was a need for a space where they could connect, build relationships and address challenges unique to their roles. This program started with 15 executive directors, and we’ve been meeting monthly for professional development, workshops and retreats. It’s been a great first year, and we’re already planning for next year to deepen those relationships.

How do you manage your own self-care as a leader?

Honestly, it’s tough. Care for Disruptive Leadership is designed to support leaders, but sometimes even I struggle to prioritize myself. We have to create intentional spaces for leaders to seek care, which is something I try to remind myself to do, too. Leaders need grace, curiosity, and opportunities for rest, and that’s something I’m still learning to balance. I think, for leaders, it’s important to ask for grace, not just from others but from ourselves. We need to remind each other that no one can do it all. The critique culture is strong, but what we need more of is a culture of cultivation — supporting and uplifting leaders instead of just holding them accountable.

What is the future you envision for your community?

I believe the future of leadership in Oregon is BIPOC. The demographics of our student population reflect that, and I think we’re heading toward a future where leadership at every level is more diverse. That’s why it’s so important to invest in and sustain these leaders now. If we’re going to achieve a racially just Oregon, we need leaders who reflect our communities and are supported holistically in their roles. It’s not just about putting someone in a position — it’s about giving them the tools and community they need to thrive.

As the election approaches, what is top of mind for you?

I'm feeling excited and optimistic. While we may not win every race, success shouldn't be defined solely by wins or losses. This election will offer valuable lessons, especially in Oregon, that will make us more organized and effective in the future. I believe movement building is evolving, and we need to focus on authentic, one-on-one connections to meet our communities' needs.

What's something that recently brought you joy?

Connecting with my community and seeing leaders find their stride brings me a lot of joy. Recently, I’ve been enjoying small moments with my kids — just spending time with them, seeing the world through their eyes. It reminds me why I’m doing this work, and it helps me stay grounded.

A portrait of Oregon Futures Lab Executive Director Erin Kothari at the Oregon Justice Resource Center

As Oregon ramps up its efforts to become a 100% clean energy state by 2040, a coalition of nonprofits is paving the way for communities of color to be active players in building a regenerative economy. With a Justice Oregon for Black Lives collaborative grant from Meyer, Leaders Become Legends (LBL), Constructing Hope and NWXcelerator are creating green technology pathways with people who have been historically excluded from such opportunities.

For this coalition, climate justice and reparative justice go hand-in-hand. Many of their program participants are men who have been impacted by the criminal legal system and young people navigating street violence. By partnering with the collaborative, not only do participants gain a foothold in the green workforce, they also build a new sense of purpose and self-efficacy.

“This isn’t about job placement,” Bretto Jackson, co-executive director of LBL, said. “It’s about bringing back information for our community, building intergenerational wealth and how to heal from 400 years of oppression.”

For Martín Minjarez, the coalition has been a lifeline. In and out of the system since his youth, he knows how difficult it is to move beyond the binds of incarceration. After finishing his sentence last year, he immediately connected with LBL for a chance at a different life. They welcomed him, connecting him with career coaching and financial planning management in addition to trauma-informed therapy and an opportunity to complete his GED. Now a participant of the collaborative’s Green Energy Program, Martín leads a solar installation crew at Imagine Energy, one of Oregon’s longest standing clean energy companies.

On his days off, he enjoys helping Green Energy Program participants with another of the coalition’s projects: a holistic career advancement center in Gresham.

While attaching studs to floor joists for what will become a communal kitchen, program participants check in with each other. They may come from different backgrounds, but what they hold in common bonds them: a desire to ascend the shackles of their environment.

“A lot of guys getting out of prison don't think they're going to be successful in life,” Martín said. “After working together on renovating the building one day, we realized we’re actually part of something that will impact someone’s life besides our own.”

The coalition has big plans for the center. They envision it as an entrepreneurial hub where clients can become whole, grow in their careers and give back to their community.

This project, while new, has also earned support from the Portland Clean Energy Fund (PCEF), which prioritizes climate action for communities of color, low-income neighborhoods and people living with disabilities.

“Typically, people are more invested in something when they are also direct participants,” Pat Schellerup, principal & director of business operations at Imagine Energy, said. “Expanding the workforce overall is needed to support Oregon’s, and the world’s, climate change goals. To accomplish this, it’s important the workforce is representative of the most impacted communities.”

In Oregon, less than 11% of the green energy workforce is BIPOC. As our state and country turn to renewable energy sources, there is an opportunity for the communities hit hardest by climate change to be a real part of the solution. If we are to build a just economy, communities of color must be central to what will be one of the most significant transformations in U.S. history.

Leaders Become Legends Co-Executive Directors James Turner, Bretto Jackson and Derric Thompson

Michelle Yemaya Benton is the executive director of Black Community of Portland, a Justice Oregon for Black Lives grantee partner. We caught up with her to talk about her new scope of work, how community organizing is in her DNA and what it means to be a revolutionary.

What’s one thing you did recently that brought you joy?

I just came back from my trip to Morocco. It was my first time leaving the country and traveling to Africa was a spiritual experience. The hospitality, the people, the culture, the sunsets — it was really beautiful. I felt like I had to battle my ancestors to come back.

Who has been the biggest influence in your life?

I have two: the matriarch of my family, my great-grandmother Jonnie B. Clarkston and the Black women in Portland. My great-grandmother was my example of generational wealth, what it means to take care of your family and what it means to take care of your community.

It's hard for me to pinpoint one Black woman because there's so many Black women that really influenced my life. My friend Mikinya Jackson, a co-founder of the Melanated Sisterhood of Portland, is a big revolutionary influence; Joy Alise Davis at Imagine Black inspires how I go about my work; Laquida Lanford, the founder of Afro Village, uplifts and empowers me; Noni Causey who runs B.E.A.M is one of my mentors and I can call on her for anything. We support the missions, the movement and each other.

What are some words of wisdom you’d give your younger self?

When I was in high school, I wanted to go to a HBCU (Historically Black Colleges and Universities) and be an attorney. I didn’t have the grades and I didn’t have the support, but I was organizing even then. I did soulful cookouts, helped start the step team, organized fundraisers — but the school-to-prison pipeline is real and even just having the stigma in your bloodline can affect some roads we walk and it can be intense. So I would tell my younger self, ‘If you want to study law and become an attorney, you need to do the things to get there. Find programs, find outside support. If that’s what you want to do, do it.’

How did you become the executive director of Black Community of Portland?

It was a prayer for purpose. One of my good friends, Mikinya, invited me to a community dinner at The Horn of Africa. There was a long table and lots of Black folks all wanting to empower and uplift the Black community. I sat down and never left. That day, I submitted my application to join the Black Riders Liberation Party, the new generation of Black Panthers for Portland chapter.

Part of our mission is leveling up our community: empowering our people, protecting our people by educating our people. I thought of my younger cousins and how much I needed advocacy growing up. My family is no stranger to the 'war on drugs,' or the New Jim Crow era. The buck stops here. I put that first and that’s how I got into this work.

What new venture is your organization embarking on?

We’re coming together with Imagine Black Futures and The Rosewood Initiative to create what we’re calling the Oregon Black Worker Center. Working while Black in Oregon is a topic not taken seriously or spoken on enough. This center is going to be a space of empowerment, a space for learning and sharing information, opportunities and resources. Our goal is to create a supportive community where Black workers receive fair treatment and respect in the workplace.

We’re all coming together to build a bigger movement of advocacy and accountability. Community voice is crucial. Right now, we’re reaching out to community members to better understand their needs for this space.

As a revolutionary, what does revolution look like to you and what does it look like in Oregon?

For me, revolution is the sheer audacity and ability to do what you will with your life and not allow the limiting beliefs of others to prevent you from moving forward. It’s being able to empower people. The revolution starts at home. It starts with you.

Revolution in Oregon is giving people the power and authority to live their lives how they see fit. It’s divestment — not just of the police — but of a budget that doesn’t represent the people who live in this state; it’s reparations for Black folks whose families have lived here for generations; it’s removing racist language from our constitution to restructure our policies.

What’s on your bucket list?

Seeing every single country in Africa, touching every single continent in the world and expanding my nonprofit to be a national organization.

"It has been a long and winding road to get to where I am today." Atlas Mountains, Morocco.

As the executive director of the Oregon Pacific Islander Coalition (OPIC), Alyshia Alohalani Macaysa-Feracota approaches movement building through a healing lens, drawing upon Indigenous wisdom and practices. Through her leadership and strong relationships with Pacific Islanders across the state, several community-driven initiatives continue to gain momentum for large-scale systems change. We sat down with Macaysa-Feracota to learn more about her journey and vision.

What inspires you?

I think back to my experience growing up a lot. I grew up in southeast San Diego, about 15 minutes above the Mexican-American border. And I grew up with a ton of other kids of color. Even as young kids, we were having these conversations about how we felt left behind in a lot of ways. I noticed that contrast a lot for myself as a high academic performer.

When George W. Bush launched ‘No Child Left Behind,’ administrators wanted to relocate me to another school 45 minutes away where the students were all white. In conversations with other kids I grew up with, we’d ask, ‘Why is it that we have to leave our own neighborhoods to go off and do something else?’

Even efforts like this that were meant to bring positive change, those types of things didn't really touch us, even though they're meant to serve us. So I’ve always carried those experiences in a lot of the work that I do.

How have those early experiences influenced your perspective on systems change?

As I got older, I had the chance to work on several community initiatives, and one of my first jobs out of college was working with a national public health policy organization. I learned a lot of brilliant things there, but again I thought about my younger self and the kids in my neighborhood and asked, ‘Will this touch the lives of the folks we’re actually talking about?’

So a big part of my work has always been bringing the folks that we intend to serve directly into the process – training our community members up so they can be part of policy conversations meant to serve them and reframing things for government or agencies of Western power to understand the wisdom that already exists in the community.

What has been your greatest accomplishment so far?

I would say building the Oregon Pacific Islander Coalition. It's very significant for me as a Native Hawaiian and a Pacific Islander more broadly, particularly one who grew up in diaspora.

I left Hawaii when I was about five years old. Not having the grounding of growing up in my own land or community and then not being surrounded by my own language and practice, I felt the hole that left in who I was as an Indigenous kid. Being invited into the coalition has been a huge healing experience for me.

When elders and other community leaders approached me and said, ‘Can you steward the building of this coalition for Pacific Islander unity and self-determination?’ It was a really humbling experience. I could go off and list the different policies and initiatives that we've launched, but I think the biggest accomplishment is being able to build this trusting network amongst Pacific Islanders.

Which victories has OPIC won through community-led movements?

As Indigenous people, we approach our work from a healing lens, rethinking how data and research can be tools for healing through telling more authentic stories. We’ve produced tremendous things – like the Pacific Islander Data Modernization Report and the House Bill for Native Hawaiian/Pacific Islander Students Success Act – in such a short amount of time because we took the time to build relationships with each other.

The outcomes came from the collective vision of the coalition. When we center relationships and healing, the outcomes and deliverables are far more rich and meaningful.

What is your ultimate vision for Pacific Islander communities in Oregon and what needs to be done to get there?

I would love to move us towards this vision of having Pacific Islanders know that we can center self-determination and Indigenous self-actualization without compromising our cultural values. There's a ton of Pacific Islander work happening in the state. Being able to share OPIC's experiences with other Pacific Islanders and show them that there is a way to step into 501c3 status in a way that makes sense to us.

We need to amplify conversations about the deeper history around API as a system and how it's erased a lot of us and how that doesn't necessarily make sense at times for the things we want to do as Indigenous people. On the same line, how do we bring greater consciousness to funders, to government agencies, to the racial equity community to make sure we’re included in spaces to inform these decisions?

We lead with Indigenous wisdom. We lead with Indigenous practice.

Alyshia Alohalani Macaysa-Feracota at an OPIC event

Four groups are organizing a multifaceted approach to healing in East Multnomah County. Unite Oregon, Keep Growing Seeds, Black Economic Collective and The BIPOC Rise Moor Healing Center are bringing together nearly 1,000 community members to assess the viability of a Black wellness center.

These organizations comprise one of 14 collectives funded in the latest round of grants by Justice Oregon for Black Lives, Meyer Memorial Trust’s $25 million initiative co-created in 2020 with Black communities working to advance racial justice and equity.

Seeking to counteract Oregon’s traumatic legacy of erasure, displacement and exploitation, this collective brings a diverse set of perspectives and missions to healing Black communities. With experience ranging from movement building to food sovereignty, members envision a Black wellness center focused on self-sufficiency, skill building, therapies and more.

If their plan comes to fruition, the center could become a beacon for residents in East County where the Black population is increasing, largely due to displacement from rising housing costs in Portland’s urban core. East County comparatively lacks basic infrastructure like sidewalks, parks and natural areas. The collective intends to invest in this neighborhood with much-needed resources.

“An abundance of meticulous and thoughtful consideration has been implemented to provide this Black wellness center to East County,” Durrell Javon Kinsey Bey, co-founder of The BIPOC Rise Moor Healing Center, says. “Not as a fad but as a mechanism of hope and prosperity toward sustainability and self-sufficiency for Black people.”

Healing as a Catalyst for Flourishing Black Communities

When Justice Oregon was established, a steering committee of Black community members identified addressing trauma and healing as a core goal of the initiative. Plans for the wellness center fall firmly within this priority area.

“We heard that we can't have things like economic justice or investments in education without a strong foundation for healing in the Black community,” says Allister Byrd, Justice Oregon for Black Lives program officer.

For Je Amaechi, Unite Oregon’s reimagining community safety manager, the center could be the next Greenwood District or even New Nanny Town (now Moore Town).

“Healing is not an endpoint,” says Amaechi, whose Jamaican heritage and abolitionist principles shape their values. “To really get at the root level, we have to work on healing ourselves and healing each other. Then we’re able to work toward advocacy and collective action.”

Cultivating Black Joy into the Planning Process

To determine if a wellness center of this kind would be impactful, the collective is asking communities directly for their input. But, true to their values, they are prioritizing Black joy and healing throughout the planning process. By offering participants support for immediate needs as well as access to Black therapists, educational opportunities and more, the collective hopes to create a space of safety and comfort.

“These gatherings won’t be traditional meetings,” Kristin Teigen, Unite Oregon’s grants associate, says. “Simply by participating in the needs assessment process, community members will be able to access multiple modes of healing.”

To further their reach, the collective is partnering with two additional organizations with deep ties to immigrant and refugee communities from across the Black and African diaspora, Emanuel Displaced Persons Association 2 (EDPA2) and African Holistic Health Family Organization.

“Not only is [this project] long overdue for East County but for people of African descent,” Kinsey Bey says. “This is well deserving to make strides in the path of karmic reconciliation, moral rejuvenation and above all social equity.”

Graphic image of Oregon map

 

Nancy Haque
Director of Policy and Programs

“I think some of the most meaningful grants Meyer made in 2023 weren’t the biggest; they were the ones where we were responding to a crisis in the community. Being able to reach out to an organization and say, 'Hey, I see this is happening. I see how your organization is trying to help. How about we get you some support?' was incredibly moving to me as a grantmaker. We were able to do that for PCUN after a tragic car accident took the lives of 11 farm workers. And then, again, during the Portland teacher's strike, we were able to support IRCO, SEI, Latino Network and Boys and Girls Club which were providing meals to students. Having spent the majority of my career in nonprofits, it would have made me feel so seen for a funder to understand our work at a level where they would reach out to us like that. It feels like a dream come true to make it happen for our grantees.”

 

Helen Wong
Director of Learning and Grant Operations

“In 2023, I’m particularly proud that Meyer invested in first-time grantees building Pacific Island and Southeast Asian communities. (Great examples include the Oregon Pacific Islander Coalition, Hmong American Community of Oregon and Filipino Bayanihan Center.) This investment is a direct result of hearing from community leaders about the invisibilization of the “AAPI” label and a request to be more nuanced in how we approach funding. We recognize that Southeast Asian and Pacific Island communities have faced historic underinvestment across all philanthropy, including Meyer. At the same time, we acknowledge these vibrant communities are integral to Oregon. I was particularly touched by the care and thought the partners gave to connecting elder and youth generations and wish I had access to these types of programs as a child growing up in the Pacific Northwest.”

 

Allister Byrd
Program Officer, Justice Oregon for Black Lives

“Last year, Justice Oregon for Black Lives leaned into funding partnerships and coalition-based work to prompt long-term change. We knew there would be some new partnerships formed because of the funding opportunity, but that there was already lots of collaboration happening within the Black community. One partnership I got to experience firsthand was the Oregon Black Pioneer’s Letitia Carson exhibit at The Center Powered By Y.O.U.TH in Gresham. The Letitia Carson Legacy Project is a partnership between Black Oregon Land Trust, Oregon Black Pioneers, the Linn Benton NAACP, Mudbone Grown, and Oregon State University. The interactive exhibit (complete with a historical reenactor acting as Leticia Carson at the opening reception!) detailed the life of one of the first Black women to settle in Oregon and helped the students at Y.O.U.T.H place themselves in the larger context of Black history in Oregon. It’s a really cool project that bridges the past and the future.”

 

Mike Phillips
Program Associate, Our Resilient Places

“The grant that is top of mind for me — after the recent cold snap (the worst I’ve ever experienced in my time in Oregon) — is an operating grant we made to Community Energy Project. They provide deep home energy retrofits for low-income households in the Portland area. These retrofits can include everything from insulation and efficiency upgrades to switching homes from fossil fuel heat sources, all while saving clients money on utility bills and making homes healthier and more comfortable. Community Energy Project also does critical advocacy work in solidarity with their clients. In 2023, they served on nine committees and coalitions dedicated to climate justice and equitable energy policies while also working at the Oregon Public Utility Commission. The winter storms, summer heat waves and wildfires in recent years have made climate change hit home more viscerally for all of us. I’m happy Meyer is supporting groups like Community Energy Project that are leading the way toward a more just energy future.”

 

Sally Yee
Program Officer, Together We Rise

“Ensuring safe workplaces and protecting workers’ rights may seem like straightforward work, simple even. It is anything but that. For more than 20 years, Northwest Workers’ Justice Project (NWJP) has been working mostly behind the scenes to work on behalf of Oregon's most vulnerable worker communities. They have had to earn the trust of workers who routinely experience workplace abuse, risk employer retaliation for raising these issues and have no guarantee that speaking up will make any difference. NWJP and its organizers earn the trust of workers so they can provide them with the support they need to confront workplace issues; trust that laws can be made to work in their interest and effectively use their voices to ensure their workplaces are safe, their rights are respected, and their humanity is honored. The word ‘awesome’ comes to mind when I think about all they do and I’m so glad Meyer was able to support their work in 2023.”

 

Erin Dysart
Managing Director, Strategic Initiatives

"Is it cheating if I highlight one grant that will actually be a whole collection of grants? Because I'm excited about our growing collaboration with Pride Foundation, the only LGBTQ+ community foundation serving a five state region in the Northwest. In 2023, Meyer committed to partnering with Pride Foundation to co-fund the upcoming round of their community grants in Oregon. These grants provide critical support to small, grassroots, LGBTQ+ led and focused organizations, especially outside of metro areas. Pride Foundation nurtures its deep network of trusting relationships across the state (reaching many groups that Meyer does not), which allows them to get resources where they are needed -- into the hands of folks within the LGBTQ+ community who are most harmed by systemic injustices like racism, xenophobia, ableism and transphobia. I'm inspired by Pride Foundation's intersectional, community-centered, and proactive approach to grantmaking, and I'm thrilled about what this kind of partnership can make possible."

 

Violeta Alvarez Lucio
Program Associate, Our Collective Prosperity

“In 2023, Meyer partnered with Oregon Collective Summit (OCS) leaders, Bekah Sabzalian and Andre Goodlow, to co-host two summits that brought together hundreds of multigenerational educators of color. These events provided much-needed space of connection, learning and celebration. I attended OCS for the first time in the fall and felt proud of Meyer’s ongoing commitment to supporting this work. At the event, the student panel shed light on the positive impact that teacher pathway programs have for students and aspiring educators of color. One of these programs that Meyer supported separately in 2023 is the University of Oregon’s Sapsik’ʷałá Teachers Education program. It’s a tuition-free initiative that ‘collaborates with all Nine Federally Recognized Sovereign Indian Nations of Oregon and the UOTeach master’s program to deliver a pathway for Indigenous people to become teachers within their communities.’ It provides financial resources, mentorship and spaces where the cultural identity of aspiring educators is valued and celebrated.”

 

Molly Gray
Program Associate, Strategic Initiatives

“I would love to highlight a grant Meyer made this year to support the Oregon Futures Lab Education Fund. OFL focuses on seeking, supporting and sustaining BIPOC community leaders and elected officials. I am particularly excited about one of their signature programs: Care for Disruptive Leaders. This program recognizes the unique challenges faced by BIPOC leaders in public political spaces — such as harassment, doxxing, and threats — along with all the systemic barriers in place to exclude them from running for office. Care for Disruptive Leaders provides time, space and resources to help tackle these issues, reducing burnout and lengthening the tenure of BIPOC folx leadership positions. We need a diverse, leaderful movement to face the multifaceted challenges of our time, build solidarity and power across communities and manifest OFL’s vision of a racially just Oregon. These leaders deserve safety and rest in addition to the logistical support, training and mentorship that OFL provides.”

Members of Meyer's program team reflect on our 2023 grantmaking.

As anti-immigrant rhetoric and anti-LGBTQ2SIA+ legislation continue to escalate, building community-led movements requires implementing effective communications strategies to inspire supporters and advance racial, gender and economic justice. Movement Communications Academy is on a mission to prepare today’s communicators to do just that by equipping them with essential skills to inform, empower and transform systems at large.

Over eight months, the Oregon Academy, a pilot program comprised of 19 communications professionals from 15 nonprofits, meets weekly to gain hands-on learning from co-founders Diane Goodwin and Megen Ickler. Seasoned professionals provide subject-specific expertise. Past sessions included guidance on how to develop compelling messages with Strategist Cody Romero to digital advocacy and fundraising campaigns with Iván Hernández, the digital communications and engagement manager at Oregon Food Bank.

“It's important for communications professionals to see a pathway to stay in this field,” Ickler said. “We prioritize trainers who reflect the identities of students in our cohort, especially those who are Black, Indigenous, people of color and queer.”

Inspiring Confidence in Brilliant Communicators

Before founding the Academy, Goodwin and Ickler were colleagues at Brink Communications, a creative agency that worked with scores of regional and national nonprofits. Goodwin has over three decades of experience, including a leadership role on President Barack Obama’s 2012 re-election campaign. Ickler’s political organizing career led her to serve as the communications director for then House Speaker Tina Kotek.

“By centering peer learning, we interrupt imposter syndrome and build confidence to take necessary risks,” Goodwin said. “Communications folks are often expected to learn on the job. Movement Communications Academy sets this generation of brilliant professionals up for success.”

From strategy to implementation, the Academy students dive into real life case studies that cover successful messaging, digital communications, media advocacy and policy communications.

In her session on media advocacy, Kim Melton, vice president of impact at Meyer Memorial Trust, highlighted the difference between reactive and proactive approaches to media advocacy. As a former journalist and communications director, she said responding to stories embedded in misinformation and addressing false equivalencies are just as essential as planting seeds, leveraging events and educating reporters.

Learning Together

“The Academy has given us concrete skills to mobilize our communities on issues that are really important to our cause,” Ernesto Oliva, digital communications and campaign manager at Unite Oregon said. “It’s my job to find innovative ways to ensure that our communities reach the action alerts and opportunities to hopefully, in time, build a cross-cultural movement in Oregon.”

Oliva first joined Unite Oregon as a field organizer with a desire to support more advocacy and ground organizing after beginning his career in education. To support housing justice efforts — one of the six core pillars of the organization’s mission — he trained 150 immigrants and refugees in Washington County to craft their own solutions around tenants rights.

As a first generation, bilingual Latino, he saw how accurately translating messaging into accessible languages for many communities brought more people to the decision-making table.

“I got into communications because I saw that there was power in building bridges with different communities, with immigrants and refugees,” he said. “Being effective with our organizing and advocacy to shift policy at the local and state level involves language accessibility and messaging.”

He knows he can’t do it alone. Only halfway through the course, they’ve built a sense of camaraderie, understanding how intersectional each other’s missions are in the pursuit of justice. This inclusive style of learning resonates with Oliva and his team at Unite Oregon who incorporate this belief into their operations: there are no experts in the room, everyone co-learns together. The same goes for Blair Stenvick, the communications manager at Basic Rights Oregon (BRO).

“Realizing that you’re not alone, that a lot of the challenges I face are faced by others and finding ways to work around it together means a lot,” Stenvick said. “Connecting with each other on that human level and sharing each other’s work on social media, we’re supporting each other in measurable ways.”

Transforming Systems Statewide

They said the cohort style builds momentum by bringing people with different lived experiences and skills together to uplift one another in this work.

“Tribe grows impact,” they said. “We want equality for every LGBTQ+ person or guardian no matter what part of the state you live in, your age, your race or your income level. Being as inclusive as possible is what drives us at BRO.”

As a communications team of one, Stenvick relies on their instincts and often moves quickly to translate messaging into effective narratives.

“The Academy has taught me how to slow down and really think through the basics: what is my audience, what is the goal of this specific action?” they said. “It has reminded me that the message needs to be inclusive so it can be understood and acted on at different levels, meeting people where they’re at.”

Before joining Basic Rights Oregon, Stenvick worked as a reporter where they met organizers on the ground who were leading campaigns throughout the state. As a queer trans person, they resonated with BRO’s mission. When a communications position became available, they knew it was the right time to move from reporting on issues to being an active agent for transforming systems.

Since joining the team, they’ve successfully campaigned for the passage of HB 2002, expanding reproductive health care and abortion protections statewide. Now, BRO is collaborating with Planned Parenthood and ACLU Oregon to enshrine abortion rights, marriage equality and gender-affirming care into the state constitution.

While Oregon has some of the most inclusive reproductive and gender affirming access in the country, passing this type of legislation will still be an uphill battle. Stenvick hopes to apply the lessons they continue to learn at the Academy as they ramp up their efforts.

As the Academy rounds the halfway point, evaluation and growth are top of mind for Goodwin and Ickler. The Oregon cohort could serve as a model for taking this training nationwide.

Oliva believes every communications professional would benefit from the program no matter where they are in their career path.

“Education is your passport through life,” he said. “This will either be a refresher for you or it will be a new program that will equip you with real life skill sets to be able to do your job. And the better we do our job as communications professionals, the more our communities will benefit.”

Oregon Academy students learning in the Center for Great Purposes at Meyer HQ

At the end of June, Meyer Memorial Trust gathered an amazing group of 30 housing advocates, organizers and community leaders in Lincoln City for the Oregon Housing Justice Forum. For most of us, it was the first time in over two years we had been in a room full of people we hadn’t met in person before — and in a way that was the whole point. When Meyer’s Housing team started thinking (back in 2020!) about a multi-day gathering of housing advocates from across the state, our central focus was on providing space and time for people to connect, share what they are working on and identify new allies.

COVID-19 has made creating and sustaining relationships much harder for all of us and we knew people were craving an opportunity to step away from Zoom calls and day-to-day challenges to share visions, plans and hopes for housing justice. The last few years have been full of urgent housing challenges, tireless and smart advocacy, dramatic victories in public policy and new resources for housing needs. The forum was designed to serve as an important occasion for advocates to gather together, take a breath, step back and think about what’s next: how do we all contribute to sustaining and growing broad and resilient movements around equitable housing outcomes? We were particularly looking to center the conversation around the needs and priorities of communities of color and to nurture and promote emerging leaders working with those communities and others that have been historically neglected, marginalized and deprived of the ability to secure suitable housing.

In planning the event, we were fortunate to have the help of three savvy and experienced community members active in the field: Julia Delgado from the Urban League of Portland, Jenny Lee from the Coalition of Communities of Color and Loren Naldoza from the Oregon Housing Alliance. Their perspectives and advice as part of the planning committee helped us shape the event, refining the goals and intent, recruiting and selecting participants and the facilitator, I and actively engaging with other participants during the forum.

With the help of our stellar facilitators from the Luna Jiménez Institute for Social Transformation, the planning committee identified five outcomes that guided our approach to the event:

By centering BIPOC leadership, authentic allyship, relationship building, belonging and racial justice, the Oregon Housing Justice Forum will have:

• Increased our understanding of the historical and current impacts of systemic oppression on housing policies, programs, collaborations and initiatives across sectors that lays a foundation for healing from housing injustices.
• Formed a housing justice network (composed of BIPOC leaders, people who have experienced housing insecurities and committed allies) that is relationship-based, expandable, cross-sector and has the potential to become influential and sustainable.
• Reimagined a housing justice ecosystem that launches a bold, inspiring and just housing future in Oregon.
• Co-created key housing justice initiatives that build on past housing justice victories and learning and are designed and shaped by the insights and experiences of BIPOC communities and/or people who have experienced housing insecurity.
• Felt inspired and more prepared to take bold action that fosters relationships and confidence in backing and centering BIPOC leadership and communities in the housing justice space that moves Oregon closer to a vision of housing justice for all. 

We decided to limit the size of the event to a group where everyone could engage in the same conversation and connect meaningfully with each other. That meant that we invited only 35 out of the more than 130 people who applied to participate. That roster of 35 was one of the most diverse and dynamic groups of housing advocates the state has ever seen, with notably only about one-third of attendees coming from Portland Metro. All participants brought deep community connections and more than two-thirds identified as indigenous or people of color. Some were familiar to us and connected with current Meyer partner organizations we know well; some were people we had not known of before the event. Core issues and passions represented ranged across the spectrum of affordable housing advocacy, from determined advocates for the houseless to people focused on increasing minority homeownership; from grassroots organizers to people with strong policy expertise to coalition-builders.

Over two-and-a-half days, this extraordinary group dug into the roots of Oregon’s overlapping housing crises, shared their plans, visions and fears around the work in front of them and bonded with new allies in conversations.

Meyer has a long track record of supporting advocacy and organizing work, particularly in affordable housing, and this event was both a natural culmination of that decade-long engagement and a bridge to our new focus built on centering impacted communities, supporting positive systems change and building movements and grassroots power. And the Forum is just the latest chapter in that critical work: we will be engaging with both participants and a wider circle of voices in the next few months to inform how we can support community-driven agendas for housing justice at both the local and statewide levels.

— Michael Parkhurst

Graphic promoting the Oregon Housing Justice Forum