The folly of the Oscars, Shinola, and Detroit
Why community-driven narrative is so darn important!
In case you weren’t one of the ~30 million people who tuned into the Oscars last Sunday, they happened. A super problematic film about white saviorism, Green Book, won Best Picture and then, during the acceptance speech, we bore witness to this moment...
Yes, that’s a Shinola watch on the wrist of Green Book director, Peter Farrelly and yes, he for some reason felt compelled to proclaim, “Shinola watches!...They’re saving Detroit!”
Now, for anyone who doesn’t understand why this is important, I’ll just simply state that it is an iteration of a commonly perpetuated false narrative that some corporation (or singular entity) is “saving” Detroit.
There are countless layers to why this sentiment is so false and problematic. Some of them being:
The fact that Detroit never needed “saving” it just needed justice for white flight, redlining, the war on drugs and wide-scale disinvestment.
There is a community of countless leaders, organizations and approximately 700,000 people that are integral parts of Detroit’s recovery.
The only person/people who should have agency to tell the story of Detroit are those who are a part of it.
Wait, let me fix this photo for you…
Does this conundrum make more sense now? Either way, stay with me.
Sunday night, not including anyone who consumed it on various social media platforms, roughly 30 million people watched the Oscars on television and, when this scene occurred, there was nothing to prevent them from taking it at face value.
Detroiters (and anyone meaningfully connected to the recovery of the city) reacted in one of two ways either 1) taking the collective rallying cry of outrage to social media or 2) sitting back and waiting for the outrage to inevitably surface.
It did.
Late into the night and early into the morning, the war drums of Twitter, Instagram and Facebook rang, led by local politician and activist, Rashida Talib, among others. At 8:50 the next morning, Shinola published this statement on their Facebook and Twitter accounts (sorry, they couldn’t compromise the Instagram brand)…
By the end of today, four days later, that Facebook post had 3.1k reactions, 139 comments and 359 shares while the Tweet mustered up 411 likes, 116 retweets and 15 comments. Social media marketing friends, please chime in if I’m off-base, but I think we can generously say that their reconciliation message reached upwards of tens of thousands of people who were most likely already in the Shinola network, aware of their brand identity and corresponding impact on Detroit.
Then the local news media weighed in their unbiased, middle-of-the-road way, because, you know, they have to stoke the coals, keep their viewership engaged and make sure not to take a meaningful stand on anything. The City of Detroit-run media outlet even dropped two coins - this and that - into the echo-chamber gumball machine.
Now to the most important part, the Detroit community members. Remember them? Well, this is what my Newsfeed looked like on Monday...
The various actions of the powerless - satire, proselytization, outrage and elaboration - attempting to fight back.
This isn’t even to criticize the actions of my friends and peers. Continuing my dartboard math, it’s to combine the ~200 people who interacted with these posts with the people who engaged with the public announcement of Shinola to realize that it didn’t even counteract a few percent of the impression that Peter Farrelly’s careless statement left on 30 million people watching live. Include the frustrating middle-ground approach of local news media outlets and the lack of national follow-up coverage; that’s a microcosm of how powerless local communities are to craft their own narrative today. This happens in so many different ways every single day in Detroit and communities like it. That’s why my time working in nonprofit consultation and community economic development in post-bankruptcy Detroit heavily influenced why [here].
Through all of its trials and tribulations, Detroit was home to no less than 675,000 people during the last 50 years, but, unfortunately, when the city emerged from bankruptcy, long time residents were the last people to have a say in how their city and communities would be perceived. Going unheard and being neglected was the reality for Detroit citizens before the bankruptcy; it wasn’t much different after. Large-scale developers, fly-by journalists, well-resourced foundations and even well-meaning young people (like me!) all moved in competing for a chance to be the one to re-brand the city as a place that was on the up-and-up. I even got flown to Toronto six months after moving to Detroit to be a Detroit Delegate of all things at a global summit for young urban changemakers in Toronto. Yeah, problematic, I know.
In many regards Detroit was in fact recovering, but also, as alluded to above, the focus on unwavering progress neglected the terrible realities of housing foreclosures, water shutoffs, failing school systems, steady crime and failed transit initiatives. Those of us working on the ground tirelessly advocated for the community to have a voice and to wield real power, but in so many ways our advocacy went unanswered and the community was ignored or silenced. Similar to the in-fighting we see between progressives in regards to Democratic presidential candidates today, I started being combative with my peers and developing an unhealthy relationship with my work because of how futile it began to feel. That’s what ultimately led me to seek for opportunities outside of the community and to eventually leave.
But that unjust narrative paradigm is one of the core reasons why [here] is now a thing.
That paradigm exists everywhere. It’s the narrative of every location on your must-visit list being communicated by an influencing travel blogger rather than a local community member. It’s the narrative of hopeless South Side, Chicago gun violence being published and discussed over engaged, resilient communities trying to bring about nonviolent change. It’s the narrative of fly-over America prevailing over the unique pockets of culture, innovation and history that exist everywhere. It’s the narrative of all these places that we are quick to disregard without hearing from them first.
I believe that no one has the right to an opinion about a place or community until they’ve heard about it from the people who actually exist there or they’ve experienced it for themselves.
One of the primary goals of this project is to find a way to capture, compile and elevate the individual perspectives that make up a collective community narrative to be consumed by people who exist outside of those communities and their information ecosystems.
Stories should be told by people rather than about them.
As we become increasingly divided and disconnected thanks to the constant misinformation, unhealthy digital engagement, and lack of human interactions across different lived experiences, this work of becomes more-and-more vital. We have the tools, platforms and connectivity to make that a reality; what’s stopping us?