PORTLAND, Ore. — Not every neighborhood in this city is one of those Northwest destinations where passion for espresso, the environment and plenty of exercise define the cultural common ground. A few places are still described as frontiers, where pioneers move because prices are relatively reasonable, the location is convenient and, they say, they “want the diversity.”

Yet one person’s frontier, it turns out, is often another’s front porch. It has been true across the country: gentrification, which increases housing prices and tension, sometimes has racial overtones and can seem like a dirty word. Now Portland is encouraging black and white residents to talk about it, but even here in Sincere City, the conversation has been difficult.

That’s from this piece in today’s New York Times—under the tag “Portland Journal,” which explains why we get so much press from that paper. (Side note: “Sincere City”? Huh?)

The piece focuses on Portland’s Restorative Listening Circles. And from what the NYT reporter found, those circles might not be restorative to the folks who’ve actually been hurt.

The goal of the project, which is sponsored by the city’s Office of Neighborhood Involvement, is to have white people better understand the effect gentrification can have on the city’s longtime black and other-minority neighborhoods by having minority residents tell what it is like to be on the receiving end.

Once armed with a broader perspective, said Judith Mowry, the project’s leader, whites should “make the commitment that the harm stops with us.” That might mean that whites appeal to the city to help black businesses or complain to companies that put fliers on the doors of black property owners encouraging them to sell.

Yet what has been clear from the meetings this month and last is that talking about the impact of gentrification is easier than finding ways to reduce it. For some minority residents, the notion that white Portland now says it feels their pain is cold comfort.

“That’s been our history,” Norma Trimble, who is Native American, said during the question-and-answer session this month. “They take all you’ve got. They take your land. Now they want your stories.”

…“Where’s this meeting going?” Mr. Booker, 85, said in an interview days later. “No place. People get there and vent their frustrations, but who hears it?”

Several blacks echoed that concern in interviews after the meetings, while many whites — and the audiences were overwhelmingly white — said the meetings had been invaluable in helping them see another point of view. Whites often nodded sympathetically, even gasping at times, as they heard blacks tell stories of discrimination and of feeling betrayed by the city in its quest for economic development.

Compare that to the Oregonian's breathless piece about the listening circles in April, part of an entire package about the program. (The piece is archived here, but you'll have to pay for access.)

Here's a snippet, about a hug:

The city of Portland is using a deceptively simple technique --storytelling --to confront the complicated issue of gentrification.

And it's bringing surprisingly powerful results.

The Restorative Listening Project, run by the Office of Neighborhood Involvement, invites blacks to tell whites how it has felt to see them move into and remake inner North and Northeast Portland --for decades, the heart of Oregon's African American community.

Some question how storytelling can make a difference after housing prices already have forced out so many. Yet similar projects that grappled with much weightier issues --the horrors of apartheid, the Holocaust and World War II --show how the fundamental acts of telling and listening can heal...

Since the project began last year, 15 African Americans have presented their experiences and some 225 people have attended at least one session.

Results are personal and profound. Blacks are getting past their anger to talk about their pain. Whites are getting past their political correctness to admit their confusion. Some leave frustrated. Others experience relief. All can gain insight.

Noni Causey wasn't sure she wanted to tell her story until she realized that some of the cohesion she once felt in her neighborhood could be revived if whites and blacks stopped fearing each other.

"I don't even talk to my neighbors because my neighbors don't talk to me," Causey, 46, told 70 participants at a mid-March Restorative Listening session at the First AME Zion Church in North Portland.

Causey said that at an earlier session, a white woman who agreed with a concern Causey raised didn't voice her support but instead confided in Mowry afterward.

"Am I that scary?" Causey asked the gathering. "If I can't come to my neighbor and let you know how I feel, something is wrong."

Causey returned to her pew as the moderators invited audience comment. Several people spoke. Then a white woman at the back rose and walked down the aisle.

"I want to introduce myself to Noni," said Terri Pintarelli, 52. "I didn't talk to you at that meeting because I wanted to listen and honor what you said."

Pintarelli stuck out her hand. Causey, surprised the woman was there, took her hand.

"No," Causey said, embracing her. "I'm a hugger. I need to hug you and thank you."