Before sharing the mic with the nine young men seated with him at the table, moderator and Multnomah County employee Kory Murphy solemnly listed off statistics illustrating the challenges they face as black youths in the United States.

“Homicide is the leading cause of death for African-American males between ages 10 and 24,” he said. “How many of you are between the ages of 10 and 24?” Hands around the table raised. They all were.

Murphy went on, “If the current trend continues, 1 in 3 young African-American men will serve time in prison.” He then counted around the table, slowly shifting his gaze and motioning toward each of the young men with his hand. “One, two, three. … One, two, three. … One, two, three.

“We could go on, and on, and on about the incredibly bleak current reality of young black males in our country.”The men were situated in the center of a conference room on the third floor of the Portland Marriott City Center hotel downtown. It was Oct. 14, the first day of the National League of Cities Black Male Achievement Initiative symposium.

A couple dozen black leaders from across the country surrounded the young men, waiting to hear straight from the mouths of the demographic they were focused on lifting up. Representatives from cities participating in the Black Male Achievement Initiative had gathered in Portland to discuss ideas, programs and policies aimed at changing the grim statistics facing these youths.

Portland was selected as one of 11 cities to take part in Phase I of the initiative, which kicked off in January. National organizers hope to have 500 cities signed up by 2025. So far, 76 mayors are on board.

Source: Oregon Violent Death Reporting System

Among the young men at the table were four youths from Portland and five others hailing from Florida, Virginia, Indiana, Nebraska and Wisconsin.

The Portland men were four of eight graduates from a Summer Youth Experience program put on by the city, Multnomah County, Black Male Achievement Initiative and Worksystems Inc. The program included college internships and emotional intelligence-building workshops and culminated in a Summer Youth Summit in September, where the men facilitated discussions among their peers, discussing the relationship between race and economics, education and the justice system.

What follows are excerpts from the responses these four young Portland men gave during the roundtable discussion and during a Street Roots-led question-and-answer session immediately following the event.

Question: Given the statistics and what you know about the situation of young black males, in your opinion, how does race and racism play a role?

Stephon Hartley, 19: I was that one black kid in a classroom full of white kids. Me and my peers have been talking a lot about building relationships with teachers and how that impacts the way students will learn. A lot of the white teachers – because I was the only black kid – were very standoffish. They didn’t always rush to help me. The school actually had to call my mother and tell her that they thought I was retarded – and I was in kindergarten passing second-grade tests.

Or, it’s Black History Month, and you’re learning about black history. Everybody’s giving their take on it, then they look to you to give your African-American take on it. That’s happened to me multiple times. It’s the same take you guys have. I may feel stronger, but everything is wrong. Why do I have to have a different take?

Then there’s being an African-American male and having that perception of danger, or whatever, in most white people – that does stop that level of relationship to be built with students and teachers. I know it affects a lot of kids.

Q: We have a black president, though. Racism – is it real still?

Joshua Davis, 19: I was pretty young when Obama was elected, and I wasn’t really paying attention to a lot of issues before that, but I feel like because we have a black president, in some ways, even though it’s made things better, in other ways, it’s made things a little bit worse. It’s a lot easier to deny it now, because we have come so far. We came from slavery, and now the head of our nation is black. But it doesn’t change city to city, state to state, all the issues that have been going on since the 1800s, and back before that. All the issues – all the Black Lives Matter, it seems like when you bring it up with people, a lot of times, there’s a lot of anger on both sides. You hear people say that exact thing, “We have a black president.” And to me it’s like, so what? It doesn’t do much for people in real life.

Q: When you turn on the TV, or you watch a video on your phones, of multiple black males being gunned down, regardless of what they did, how do you feel?

Wesley Black, 21: It rains a lot in Portland, so I often wear a sweatshirt. I used to live across the street from my job, which was at the Dollar Tree, and I would work the night shift, so I’m walking home, in the dark, probably when it’s raining. I remember specifically they said in the Trayvon (Martin) case, that he was looking suspiciously in other people’s cars. The time it takes me to walk home, I probably look in, like, 20-some cars. Some are empty, some are not, but still I look in the car. I remember this one night, I looked into a car, and I thought, I’m it – I am Trayvon. Somebody from neighborhood watch just saw me look in this car and thinks I’m going to rob them, then I’m going to turn the block and get shot by a bunch of cops.

Hartley: A common thing that I see with my peers, the millennials, is that we support things that support racism, like WorldStar. (WorldStarHipHop is an aggregate video site known for posting videos of violent street fights.) All WorldStar is, is an outlet for racist people to get on there and bash blacks. But if you look at most of our phones, we’ll have the WorldStar app. We’ll be on it 24/7, supporting racism. So I just want to say we should pay more attention to the things we do and the things we support.

Q: What do you guys think when you see this portrayal of gang violence in the media? What kind of conversation happens in your homes around this issue?

Black: Honestly, sometimes I wonder if it’s actually a gang shooting. I might just not like you and decide to shoot you, but since we’re both black, they’re going to assume that it was a gang shooting.

Hartley: Definitely. You know, me and my family, we talk about this stuff all the time, and it’s like it doesn’t even matter if both people in the parties are African-American, as soon as there’s a POC, as people like to call us, a “person of color,” in any type of altercation – it doesn’t even have to be a shooting – they’re going to say it is possibly gang related. Even if they don’t know, they’re going to throw that “maybe it might be gang related” because of the race of the person. I know for a fact that every shooting that happens is not gang related, and it’s just sad that even though I’ve seen Caucasian people shoot other people, the “maybe” isn’t even in there.

Nine young men ages 15 to 24 are led in a roundtable discussion moderated by Multnomah County employee Kory Murphy about the challenges young black men face. Photo by Emily Green

Q: In Portland, what are the root problems contributing to a lot of black youths joining gangs?

Hartley: Unstable homes, off the top – definitely. With the Community Center Initiative that the mayor’s office just started, we’re just now getting youth into places, but there’s not enough opportunities for young black men and every other ethnicity to be spending their time positively instead of out kickin’ it with friends and things like that. I guess we should buckle down the access to everything negative.

Q: What’s causing the violence in the first place?

Wilandrae McCall, 18: It’s like a game of chess. You got your pawns, you got your king, your queen, and then basically this pawn is trying to make it to the other side ’cause they see – you got blacks on one side, you got whites on one side in the chess game, right? You got the black side trying to make it over to – not all pieces do stuff, but a pawn, if you make it to the other side, you’re a queen now, so you can do everything that a queen can do. So it’s like if you’re in the hood, and you see somebody else doing better, you’re going to want to do better, so you’re going to try and move up another spot, and whatever it is, it’s survival of the fittest. You basically want to be better than whoever else.

Hartley: I would say a lack of stability meaning maybe one parent, maybe no parents, maybe two parents and neither of them care. The youth, they don’t feel like they belong to anything, they don’t have a sense of belonging, so then they find people who claim that, “Oh, you know, if you come and join my hood, then you’ll have this certain level of respect, you’ll have this you’ll have that,” and then they cling to that because then they feel like they belong to something, they are someone, they mean something.

I think our African-American population here, they feel alone. We’re attacked just for walking down the street. We’re attacked for being black, by our police, the people that are supposed to protect us, even the media. We don’t get really any good media coverage, so we feel like we have to fend for ourselves and do things on our own.

Q: Do you think gentrification has played a role in the increase in violence?

McCall: I’ve lived in the same neighborhood most my life; Peninsula, Rosa Parks area – so it used to be there were a few black people on the block, and now, there’s this main strip where all you see is white people now, but if you go a couple blocks back, you start to see, oh there’s a bunch of black people cluttered in Section 8 homes, low-income housing. You’ll notice, in the gentrified neighborhoods, the violence is usually close to somewhere where there’s Section 8 living, like, behind Jefferson there’s Section 8, behind the other side of PCC there’s Section 8. They’re putting black people together to basically make them fight against each other, I guess.

Hartley: I think gentrification is a way to shift the area of violence, because I know North, Northeast, there used to be a certain amount – or a higher level – of violence, and now that rent prices are going up, everything is going up. And out in, say, East Portland and Southeast Portland, all the way from about 102nd and Burnside to Gresham, rent’s not necessarily going down, rent’s a lot lower, everybody’s being moved out there because they can’t pay rent, and all the violence is shifting out there, and I feel like – yeah – gentrification is a way to shift that violence away from the community they are trying to reclaim.

Stephon Hartley shares what he learned from leading discussions about race and family stability with his peers at the Summer Youth Summit. He’s joined on stage at the Summer Youth Experience graduation in September by fellow graduates Malik Farrakhan and Joshua Davis. Photo Courtesy of City of Portland/Office of Equity and Human Rights

McCall: They’re basically neglecting what needs to be done, so until something is done, that family is just going to put up with it. “Oh, we’re not putting any money in, but we’re going to raise your rent so you gotta move.” If you’re not putting any money in that community – like I lived at a house for four or five years; not one improvement was done. We moved out, they tore it down, built a new house – that definitely shows a lot. I think white people own that house now.

Q: Is there is a hesitance to call the police among members of your community, and do you think that fuels violence in some situations?

Hartley: I’ve lived that situation. It depends on the neighborhood; it depends on the neighbors. People know if certain things happen, nobody’s going to call the police, and oftentimes, it does escalate, and I blame the police. I would say, yes, it does have an effect.

McCall: It’s school season now; it’s sports. This is a time when gang members are out usually in the neighborhoods, so the police do what they call a sweep. They come through and they search only black kids – well from what I’ve seen, only black kids – for weapons. They do a pat-down; they don’t go in your pockets or anything, but they say it’s a mandatory search they can do this time of year and they’re looking for guns. Last year, I’d just left a Jefferson (High School) game and was walking home, and a cop pulls me over, tells me he needs to search me ’cause I look suspicious or something. I’m like, “No, I’m refusing a search at this point,” and he’s like, “Well you can’t really do that; you’re not of age.” And I’m like, “Well, that seems wrong,” and he’s like, “It’s like a routine search; just go with it.” When they go into communities, they build that into people’s heads, like, “Oh they’re just going to do this,” or, “Just let them do this and get away with it,” rather than parents sticking up for their children or people nearby sticking up for the victim.

Street Roots asked Portland Police Bureau whether a person can refuse a pat-down such as the one described. Sgt. Greg Stewart, a police spokesman, said an officer must have “an articulable reason” for suspecting the person has weapons and cannot subject them to a pat-down simply for being in a particular area.

“Juveniles can refuse a consent search,” he said, “but as long as an officer has reasonable suspicion, they can pat a person down for weapons. We do not use this very often.”

He said Portland police stopped 99 pedestrians during the past quarter.

Q: During the roundtable discussion, someone mentioned how differently he was treated going to the mall wearing a hoodie versus wearing a suit. Have any of you experienced that form of racism here in Portland?

Hartley: Yep. I swear to you, me, my brother and two of my girl cousins had just got to the Lloyd Center mall. We walked in through Macy’s, a security guard met us and said, “You have to leave.” We asked why. “There was just a group of African-Americans walking through the mall, and we think they were going to fight, and you guys look like you were part of the group.” Things like that – walking around, maybe just window shopping or looking at things before I buy them, people walk up, “Oh, well do you need help?” No. I know what I’m looking for. Or you start seeing the same security guard following you, start leaning on the rails, then you see them and they try to go to the other side of the mall but they’re still following you. That happens consistently.

Q: Does it matter what you’re wearing?

Hartley: I know officers approach me differently or talk to me differently depending on how I’m dressed. And they don’t know I work for the mayor. I’ve been in my street clothes – I wear Nike boots, Levi 501 stiff jeans, and a jacket, graphic tee or cardigan – and it actually hurts my feelings to a certain extent, but I’m not that much of an emotional person because it’s like, how come my clothes change the way you look at me? I dress like this every day damn near (he said as he motioned toward the clothing he wore: gray slacks and a baby-blue tucked-in button-up shirt). And yet on the weekend, I look like a gang member because I change clothes.

Davis: Same for me. In Alberta area, it’s like the most gentrified place in America, and over there, for my job, they stress that we have to be professional, because all the guys at my job are young black men, so we have to wear white shirts and slacks. One day after work, I had something later, so I changed into sweatpants and like a graphic shirt. Before, I could walk down the street and I’d say hi to people and people would recognize me, but over there, dressing casual, people like avoid me. And some people, like – wait, so you cross the street, and then you kept on going, and then you crossed back later? Was that really necessary? Was the view really that much nicer over there? I’m noticing how people stereotype “we can’t trust you, because you’re wearing baggy clothes” or something.

Q: How does that make you feel?

Hartley: It enrages me.

McCall: Basically I feel like even if I’m in a professional outfit, that still doesn’t change my skin color. People are still going to look at me like I’m a black guy.

Hartley: I think it depends on the generation, too, that that’s a fact. I was working since I was a freshman in high school – because it was a must, is a must – and I’m coming from home, 99th and Gateway, the Chase Bank, cashing my check, worked 80 hours plus. I’m about to miss my Max on my way to work. I’m slightly dressed up – it was Friday; it was casual. I had on regular slacks, dress shoes and a dress shirt. I started jogging for my Max, and all of a sudden, a couple women look at me and just clutch their purses. I wanted to stop and be like, “I don’t need your money.” I was about to be late for work, but it’s like, “You guys are a waste of time. You really just tried to clutch your purse like I was going to run up and grab it? Look at how I’m dressed. Do you really think I need that from you?” That’s just a consistent thing, like you’ll get on a bus and sit somewhere and someone will get up and move. It doesn’t bother me. I’m an introvert anyway. I don’t want to be around you, you know, but it’s the thought of it happening to other people that may care. It makes me pissed off.

McCall: Or going into a restaurant. I’ve been in multiple restaurants where I’m walking in by myself and there’s all white people sitting down having dinner, but I walk in and all the heads turn toward me like I’m not supposed to be here, but I’m just ordering my food.

Q: Is there anything you’d like to tell white Portland?

Hartley: If the motto is “Keep Portland Weird,” then how come when you see someone different from you, you assume something bad, or you don’t like it? If Portland is supposed to be weird, than everything should be accepted, not looked down upon or treated a certain way. Because everything applies to weird, so weird is normal in Portland. Why does Portland portray something it doesn’t truly believe?

Black: We need to be consistent with our morals. At one time we push for a black man to be able to marry a white woman, but then when it’s two men – there’s a pause. We say people need all these civil liberties: I can’t just kill you, I can’t just search you, I can’t make you work for free, but as soon as one of you guys gets incarcerated? Death penalty; I can make you work for slave wages. We’re not really consistent. Why is it OK when you’re a prisoner? And yeah, it’s black people now, but it could totally flip, and now white people are incarcerated, and they’re going through the same thing, and they’ll be like, “This is unjust.” We’re still human.

Davis: One thing I’ve noticed with a lot of my friends, is like, something I try to tell people is: Don’t ignore it just because it doesn’t apply. Because if it’s someone being treated wrongly, it does apply to you. I can’t remember if it was Martin Luther King who said, “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” So if it’s affecting someone else, it’s going to come around and affect you. It might be blacks one day, but soon, it might be everybody.

Wilandrae McCall, left, speaks at the Summer Youth Experience graduation on Sept. 26 at the Ambridge Event Center. He's joined on stage by fellow participants in the Black Male Achievement Initiative's summer internship program, from left: Adwin Nettles, Wesley Black and David Lemo. Photo Courtesy of City of Portland/Office of Equity and Human Rights

Q: What should we do about the issues facing young black men in Portland?

McCall: What I think is youth intervention program. Different from a mentor program – having someone older come talk to you about how you should be better in life – but hearing from somebody you know, that you’ve seen grow up with you. It’s a different perspective.

Hartley: I was a part of the Community Centers Initiative here in Portland, and we basically made it free at two different community centers in East Portland and in Northeast Portland for low-income families to have the availability to put their children in the programs. What I tried to do with the children that were there, because we had over 1,300 kids just sign up at one community center, which pushed us to open another community center free, is have the police, in some capacity, be there interacting with the kids, building those relationships at early stages, because I know as a young black male, I was taught not to trust the police, never to talk to the police; police are bad. I feel like the crime would go down if police are interacting and building these relationships at young ages instead of just always being found in our communities when they’re looking for problems that they believe we are causing.

Davis: This is kind of broad. I’m still thinking about it. But we talk about wanting everybody to be treated the same, or treated with equity. Have that be a start. If you want everyone to be the same and have the same opportunities, treat them the same. Give them the same opportunities, but don’t assume they can’t take the same challenges. If you grow up feeling like you’re different, that’s what you’re going to act like. Everybody wants to think they control themselves, but pretty much what people tell you you are, if you hear it enough, you believe it. We hear people say we’re at risk; we start to believe it.

“We’re going to dream a little,” Murphy said. He asked the young men to envision a world where the statistics he listed at the beginning of the discussion didn’t exist. “Describe what that might look like.”

Hartley: That is pretty hard to envision for me because of everything I’ve been through. But I guess if it ever did happen, I would see less African-Americans having depression problems because they don’t know how to identify themselves. I would see the whole racial aspect of any type of application taken away. I would see more black males actually taking care of their families and, you know, in the family instead of out somewhere, just leaving the mother to fend for the family. I’m going to leave it at that because I can’t really see that.

Black: (Wesley began by describing a scenario where someone he knew reached out to him and others in his circle of friends to say goodbye because he believed someone was coming to visit him in a violent manner. Wesley and his friends wanted to help their friend and thought the only option was to go to his home.)

No one called the cops – not a single soul thought to call the police. I was on the Xbox, and I was talking to some friends that actually knew him, and they were like, “Hey, why don’t you call the cops?” And I was pretty emotional at the time, I was like, “If I call the cops, they’re going to come kill him and the person that’s coming to get him.”

But in this dream, we’d all have called the cops.

Davis: For me, a lot of my friends live in Beaverton, and when I go over there with my friends to hang out, I’m cool, but sometimes, like taking the bus and stuff, I get a little nervous. When I’m with my family and we drive over there, on two separate occasions – we have a minivan, and there’s seven of us in our family – we’ve been tailed by the police; like just tailed. And sometimes when I go over there, I get nervous. What if I’m walking and someone just like – they have no ill intentions, nothing against me personally, but just because of a stereotype, they call the police? It could be something where I end up getting arrested or end up being dead. I dream of a world where I never have that fear.