As reported last night, the Arbor Lodge Neighborhood Association voted 64-10 to actively oppose renaming Interstate Boulevard for César E. Chávez. A second motion, to support the rename, went down 11-67. (About 150 people attended, but not everyone was a resident or business owner in Arbor Lodge—the only folks able to vote.)

The meeting was tense, despite the assistance of a professional facilitator. There were ground rules—folks from Arbor Lodge would have 30 seconds to state whether they were pro or con on renaming, and why. The facilitator would jot down their points. Points weren’t supposed to be repeated. Be respectful. And my favorite—oh, Portland—no clapping allowed! If you agree with the speaker, wave your hand in the air.

Like the Overlook neighborhood, Arbor Lodge had paint sticks—only Arbor Lodge’s paint sticks were twice as large, and numbered to make the speaking lineup orderly.

But all that organization just seemed to further exacerbate the underlying problem: North Portland residents aren’t feeling listened to, and feel like this proposal, and the process surrounding the proposal, is being forced on them. Last night’s meeting structure was top down—and the Chávez Committee, after giving a brief presentation, sat down, and only answered a few questions.

Residents were frustrated at the short amount of time to speak, and were upset that the facilitator spent a good chunk of time interrupting explain that time was tight (the school we were in was set to kick us out at 8 pm sharp). “Then why are you talking?” one neighbor behind me muttered.

Lots more after the jump.

One woman wanted to read a comment in the form of a poem, which would have taken about 45 seconds. Several minutes were spent debating whether or not to allow it. (As neighbors pointed out from the back of the elementary school lunch room, the woman could have read it by the time they decided not to allow it. She eventually did read it, using another neighbor's allotted time.)

I've read other reports of racial slurs being used, or racial tension. To be sure, there was tension, as there usually is when race is discussed in Portland. We've got a lot of baggage in that arena. A few comments—like one from older guy who kicked off his 30 seconds by saying he'd had a "lady supervisor" who was Hispanic, and was the best supervisor he'd ever had—were a bit cringe worthy.

But the tension went both ways (I didn't personally hear any slurs or outright offensive comments). One woman spoke in support of the proposal, saying it would honor her Latino heritage. She cited the recent Portland Boulevard change to Rosa Parks Way, and asked the audience if anyone had really been adversely affected. An audible groan went through the crowd—I'm sure most folks in that neighborhood, which Rosa Parks Way cuts through, at least know of someone who's gotten lost due to the fairly sudden change. I've heard stories of others who've had issues with their credit bureau, mortgage company, and utilities because their address changed.

The most bizarre behavior I saw came from a table of women who supported the rename. Melanie Davis, Vice President of Sales & Marketing for El Hispanic News—whose offices are in Arbor Lodge—indicated that the group was affiliated with the publication. Their table, however, was a scene out of Heathers or Mean Girls, with stage whispering, loud giggling, and even sneers at some residents' comments.

In my opinion, as someone who's talked to a lot of neighbors and business owners about this proposal (and the Rosa Parks name change), I think we'd be seeing just as much emotion and tension if a group had come forward with the idea to rename Interstate for a dead white hero. It's easier to chalk this debate up to racial tensions—a conversation this city is used to having—than to discuss why the city ignores its own rules, or why a large swath of the city feels marginalized by their own city leaders.

A few more things that struck me: The Chávez Committee has yet to make a convincing case as to why a street rename—any street—is an apt honor. What makes a street name a better honor than a building or park?

They've also heard loud and clear from two neighborhoods that there's a lot of anger that the city's official name change process hasn't been followed. I can understand why the Chavez Committee would want the same treatment as those who wanted to honor Rosa Parks—a city council ushered fast track that usurped the official public process—but I'd think they'd understand that building goodwill by following the rules would only help their cause.

After Arbor Lodge voted against the proposal, neighbors had one big question—did their vote matter? "Is this another token meeting for us silly people who have an interest in our neighborhood? North Portland people are getting real tired of this," said one woman in a striped shirt.