(or more reflections on life in Portland))

I’ve met a lot of nice people here in the past 6 years. Not just people i’ve been in relationships with, but like friends I’ve made in random ways over the years. Still, it’s hard not to acknowledge that the Pacific Northwest’s reptuation for reclusive frostiness is hard won. Locals with any tenure here find this assertion very frustrating to here, for wincing fear that they might be part of the problem.

Rest assured, if you like hiking, own a dog, have a penchant for running and/or alternative relationship forms, Portland might suit you quite well. These days, this description fits a lot of places since technology has flatten culture in ways that forces you to squint to see the distinctions between cities besides bars, restaurants and local landmarks.

I’ve gotten pretty good at making sure I don’t have my phone out or earbuds in when I come to pickup an order at a restaurant, because the staff always assuming when i’m dining in that I’m actually a delivery pickup driver. This happens a lot, and I’ve stopped hiding my annoyance about it. I get that if you’re working a stressful relatively low-paid job that engages the public, there’s an advantage of having the skill to size up people when they walk in, so you know where to sort them. But this sort of pattern matching extends to so many other parts of our increasingly atomized lives and it makes navigating life on your own more difficult, if you’re committed to finding your way alone.

This would be true of any place, I don’t think it’s unique to here. If I lived in Helsinki or Montreal or Vermont, there’d be all sorts of other unforseen annoyances that would come with that decision, along with slights and other things that make it tolerable as a tourist and more frustrating as a resident. Portland’s problems really stem from governance that’s hellbent on consensus at all costs, even if it means never making a decision until everyone agrees. The more I read about this going back years, the more annoyed I get.

We’re getting ready to elect new leaders for the city’s first new government change in over a century, our City Council will go from 4 at-large members + 1 voting Mayor, to 12 members from 4 districts + 1 non-voting Mayor who appoints a city manager to run government. It’ll be way different than we’ve had before, no one has any idea how it’ll play out and it’s very different than any other city’s governance, just like the old one was. There are some good parts to it, but the warts will show up quickly and it’ll be interesting to see if we can move past them or if it’ll make stuff even more mysterious and ineffective.

What does this have to do with the city’s social scene? Things move slower here. The more I talk to people from other places, we recognize a common thread that motivated people from other places willing to get involved in things in Portland, have more opportunity to lead those efforts because too often, other people don’t actually want to do anything, they just want to be part of the committee/team/in-crowd or whatever.

The remarkable thing about putting together Portland Design Month with volunteers in less than a year was how desperate the city was for some kind of way to come together. We saw it through other events we’ve hosted through AIGA Portland, that people craved more community and chances to meet people they might not otherwise come into contact with. I’ve though about this a lot, because I think it’s easy after a while to assume you’ve kinda met everybody there is.

A few events we’ve done this year, I’ve run across times when there’s 50+ people in a row and I only know the few people from our Board. It’s one thing to have this happen at a concert or event where I’m not expecting to run across anyone I know, but discovering all of these people who’ve moved here in the past 2-3 years, and it reminds me I like connecting people and connecting myself.

You never know what people are going through, so I’m not too worried about people not speaking on the street or even on the elevator. Instead of worrying about it or complaining about it, I’ve just resolved myself to create more spaces and opportunities to get people together. If I’m on the elevator, I hold it. I say hello. Sometimes, we have a conversation. Other times, it’s nothing but a polite smile and nothing else. Hell, there are times when I don’t really have much to say either and I just want to get to the ground floor and head to the store or whatever I’m plotting to do that day.

In the end, Portland’s social climate is what we make of it. While the city’s reputation for aloofness isn’t entirely unearned, there’s an undercurrent of desire for connection that’s waiting to be tapped. Whether it’s organizing events, holding the elevator door, or simply offering a smile, small gestures can gradually thaw the “Portland Chill. As we navigate this new era of city governance and continued growth, perhaps the real challenge isn’t just reimagining our political structures, but also how we interact with each other on a daily basis.

After all, a city is more than its policies and landmarks—it’s the sum of the connections we forge and the communities we build, one awkward elevator ride at a time.