Would the real
The hand-made poster on
eoffice wall reads: “To Don-
eWant Your Bod!” Next to it
a picture of a little boy, shoes
¡tied and clothes askew, a
)k of bewilderment in his ap-
aling big eyes. Below -him
i the words: “We’re All In
iis Together!”
These posters next to each
her seemed incongruous;
wever, they were very
scriptive of the young man I
is about to meet.
A smile and a warm han
hake while being led into his
ice along with a continuous
ribling of spilled words from
» 19-year-old Associated
Government
udent
jsiden.. Don Porter, varified
e differ ng opinions I found
lile researching this story.
My ears were hearing Por-
•’s smoke-screen of words
out what the ASG is plan-
ig, doing, hopes to do and
en may consider hoping to
.Allthe while, my eyes and
ises were telling me, “Here
a young man who is deter-
ned and quite skillful at
owing what he thinks is his
st side.” I wondered . . .
ve 1 met a true politician?
Porter continues his constant
wof words while I settle in,
d begin to see his energetic
dy movements and try to
ep up with his thought and
eech patterns, which seem to
np around like a scared jack
et. Every-which way!
He is stylishly dressed in a I
11-sleeved rose colored shirt
ier which he’s added a calf-
in leather vest. His dark curly
iir hangs to his shoulders and
mes the brown eyes that ap-
¡ar to see through and
Sondme, .
He talks non-stop. I had to I
interrupt his talking marathon
for, as yet, I had not asked him
a question. “Don, wait just a
minute, I came to find out who
you really are . . . Who IS Don
Porter?” I asked.
His dark eyes gleamed, his
mouth stopped working and
genuine pleasure spread over
his face as he exclaimed, “You
know, no one has asked me
that before!”
Because Porter seems as
though he has never asked
himself this question, and. says
so. I decide to break the
question into parts to try and
Porter please stand up”
find the man who seemed to be
“I guess that answers your
hiding behind the ready smile, question, I have no close frien
ability to recall (and use) first ds.” We talked of why that
names and “back-slapping might be and he seemed sur
Porter-style of being the suc prised to hear himself saying, “I
cessful politician.”
talk too much and never really
“What do you consider your listen.” This came after several
best characteristics?” I asked. comments about how “I can’t
But Porter wasn’t ready yet to allow others to bring me down
trust me, as he answered, “I with their problems . . . not
am my own best friend.”
many people know me ... I
“Does that mean you trust date a lot but never seem to
no one but yourself?” I pushed really get to know any one per
on because Porter was stalling son very well.”
for time by rambling something
At this point I ask Porter to
about “how one can’t please describe his idea of what a per
everybody.”
fect friend might be. “That per
“Do you have many close feet friend would be someone
friends?” I countered. His reply who. knows my good and bad
was an almost flippant, “I have points and will give construc
many friends, I probably know tive criticism and still care about
more people by their name me.” He begins to talk of his
than anyone else on this cam relationship with his father, of
pus.”
whom he says, “My dad not
With even more deter only asks interested questions,
mination to find the person but cares enough to listen to
who seemed to be hiding my answers.”
Although Porter tells of his
desire to get into politics, study
law and even become governor
of Oregon, he says he dislikes
going to classes which hold lit
tle interest for him. The irony in
these statements reminds me of
his relatively tender age. When
pressed about his wish to
become a successful politician
and his dislike for structured
learning, Porter replies, “I
learn more from working with
people than from any class 1
may attend.”
Porter graduated from
Milwaukie High School in 1978
and tells of his lack of self
discipline and preparation for
college with more than a little
anger.- He says he was taught
little in high school and spoke
vehemently about a need for
change in public schools.
Don Porter cares very deeply
about many things. He enjoys
movies, especially the old-
Photos and story by Dea Shepherd-Kent
November 28,1979
behind this wall-of-words, 1
asked, “Do you have one or
two close friends to whom you
can tell about your fears, your
successes and your failures?
Are you lonely?”
At this, Porter swung his
chair from behind his desk
where he had been sitting, to
within three feet of where I was
and sat facing me as he began
to let me see the Don Porter
that he says, “only my family
knows.”
Don Porter is a highly
motivated, highly sensitive,
impatient and very determined
young man. He talks of his hurt
and disappointment when he
was in high school. He had
thought, like many other
young men and women, that
“having a nice car was the key
to being popular.” He told of
the pain he felt when for a time
his car was not running and all
of his “supposed friends”
essentially disappeared. He
continued, “It was the car they
liked, not me.”
Porter acknowledges his im
patience with "persons who ap
pear to be apathetic toward
what is going on in the College
society and in society in
general. He sees his impatience
as a fault and also an attribute.
“After all, if no one tries to
make things better, we only
slide backwards. But one thing
I know after being in this office
for six months is that we have
to work within the system.”
The sensitive side of this
gregarious young man shows
as he speaks of trying to help
handicapped students with
their special problems. Porter’s
throat seemed to tighten with
emotion as he tells of a
problem he failed to help solve.
He speaks of feeling guilty
because he is healthy and able
to move about as he wishes.
This usually talkative young
man raises his arms in a gesture
of helplessness when words fail
him.
timers, he works off excess
energy when he skiis, he feels
useful and pleased with the 20
hours he devotes to manning
the telephone at the county
Crisis Center each month.
He also is lonely much of the
time. He is often afraid to let his
emotions show through the
facade hes built around him
self. He laughs, he cries, he
feels proud of his successes and
deep disappointment with his
failures.
After three hours of probing,
listening and watching a Don
-Porter that, apparently, few
people really know, this repor
ter hurried to the typewriter
determined to catch this illusive
side of a youth who is
struggling to grow into that
“mystical-self” we all are
striving to become.
Like the posters on Porter’s
office wall, he is a dichotomy . .
. ljut then, “We’re All In This
Together”—aren’t we?
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