Purpose

By Ayisha Elliott

With the passing of John Lewis, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Chadwick Boseman, Kobe Bryant and more, it has felt like a loss of greatness, a loss of connection, like pillars fallen. I don’t know these people, but they were all symbols of something, and it’s different for everyone. Each created tangible change that benefited others. They were consistent, steadfast, focused.

With the fires, the relentless smoke, painful loss, devastating genocide, rampant racism and, of course, the consistency of COVID, it’s hard to find strength for the upcoming election. We don’t know what’s happening. The what if’s are almost paralyzing. Fear is at its height, and we all know there’s more to come.

This is why the memory of the people we lost this year is critical. It’s critical because they each were a symbol of purpose. Read their stories, not just what we know of them on social media, but who and why they lived their respective lives.

Purpose. It’s the hardest thing to understand because there is no set of instructions. It’s the age-old question: What is life all about?

In a healthy Black community, Black household, Black friendship, we are taught and challenged that we are here for a very specific purpose. This is how we face relentless racism. This is how we accept the fact that Black people are expected to not only match white expectations of knowledgeable contribution but to be better than our counterparts to even be heard. Our collective reality in this society is with poignant purpose. Our fight is about value and respect.

Each person individually and collectively has a purpose, whatever it may be. I want to share the purpose of Black resolve. We are taught that we are not here for others, but by others, of others, to serve within our purpose, each other. An understanding of the greater good is essential. The wellbeing of our families, our men, our children, through doubt, through fear, through violence, through despair. The collective wellbeing as a whole. It requires the acknowledgment of a healthy relationship with change, with grief.

We focus on the development of our purpose as if it is our lighthouse in the fog. I lend this piece of perspective to guide us through the fog of 2020.

We all have a purpose. It doesn’t have to be grand, it doesn’t have to influence the masses, it doesn’t have to make the news. We just have to get up every day and work for the greater good of ourselves, our families, our neighbors. We have the greater purpose within us. You are needed in this world. We all have a purpose.

Your purpose may be to learn; open your ears. Your purpose may be to listen; quiet your mouths. Your purpose may be to grow; accept your opportunities, easy and difficult. When each meaningful effort has the intention of purpose, for the greater good, we will overcome, and we will persevere.

Ayisha Elliott’s podcast Black Girl From Eugene is raw and uncensored monologues and conversations about living while Black in the PNW. Listen locally at 11 am Sundays on FB Live; simulcast on KEPW 97.3 FM. Audio found on all major podcasting platforms.

A Note From the Publisher

Dear Readers,

The last two years have been some of the hardest in Eugene Weekly’s 43 years. There were moments when keeping the paper alive felt uncertain. And yet, here we are — still publishing, still investigating, still showing up every week.

That’s because of you!

Not just because of financial support (though that matters enormously), but because of the emails, notes, conversations, encouragement and ideas you shared along the way. You reminded us why this paper exists and who it’s for.

Listening to readers has always been at the heart of Eugene Weekly. This year, that meant launching our popular weekly Activist Alert column, after many of you told us there was no single, reliable place to find information about rallies, meetings and ways to get involved. You asked. We responded.

We’ve also continued to deepen the coverage that sets Eugene Weekly apart, including our in-depth reporting on local real estate development through Bricks & Mortar — digging into what’s being built, who’s behind it and how those decisions shape our community.

And, of course, we’ve continued to bring you the stories and features many of you depend on: investigations and local government reporting, arts and culture coverage, sudoku and crossword puzzles, Savage Love, and our extensive community events calendar. We feature award-winning stories by University of Oregon student reporters getting real world journalism experience. All free. In print and online.

None of this happens by accident. It happens because readers step up and say: this matters.

As we head into a new year, please consider supporting Eugene Weekly if you’re able. Every dollar helps keep us digging, questioning, celebrating — and yes, occasionally annoying exactly the right people. We consider that a public service.

Thank you for standing with us!