From Tillamook to Terrebonne, LaNicia Duke is challenging assumptions about the Black experience in rural Oregon
By Kristie Perry
“Rural living does my heart well,” says LaNicia Duke, a participant in the first cohort of “Turn Up Your Voice,” a learning initiative for women and gender-expansive rural leaders offered by PSU’s Center for Women’s Leadership. “I like the quiet. I like knowing everyone in town. I like having to drive half an hour to the grocery store. It makes living more intentional.”
Duke is no stranger to urban life, however. A preacher’s kid, she grew up in the Los Angeles area. Her family attended First African Methodist Episcopal Church, the oldest Black church in the city. Founded by a former slave, this house of worship has nurtured social and political change for more than 150 years. Notably, it became a base for rebuilding the city in the wake of the Rodney King uprising.
A preacher’s family, of course, is always on the move. So Duke found herself next in Omaha, NE, and then Seattle, WA.
In search of purpose
The land that gave birth to Microsoft, Starbucks, and Amazon was fine as far as it went. But over time, Duke began to yearn for something completely different. By 2014, she could ignore that yearning no longer. She made a list of what she wanted her life to look like and, based on a Google search and a prayer, landed in Cannon Beach.
Although she knew few people in Oregon upon her arrival, it didn’t take much for her to start forging connections. Her natural charisma, resolve, and skin color—black in a sea of white—made her a magnet. “I think my presence took people by surprise. They wanted to know me. They wanted to know how I ended up there.”
A few months later, she moved to Tillamook County in search of purpose. She quickly found it. “I’d never lived anywhere that did not celebrate Martin Luther King Day before,” she explains. So Duke launched the Love Coalition, which focused on convening conversations about equity and creating inclusive events. By 2017, MLK Day commemorations had been initiated and by 2020 she was hosting a show on Coast Community Radio called “Rural Race Talks.”
Duke was still learning how to navigate coastal living when she was invited to join a group of social services professionals that met monthly to network and share information. While the experience helped her gain greater understanding of the power structures in Tillamook County, it left her convinced that bureaucratic systems often obscure the very individuals they’re intended to help. “Our government makes itself so convoluted that people don’t understand it. We would have more engaged citizens if they knew how it worked,” she says.
Inspiration borne of that frustration led Duke to evolve the Love Coalition into Humble Beginnings, an initiative that works to empower rural communities to address critical gaps in transportation, healthcare, and education.
“Rural living is hard,” she says. “It is as hard for the people born and raised in it as it is for those who just moved to it.” Workforce gaps and affordable housing problems can be extreme in places where tourism is the main economic engine. When nurses and teachers can’t afford to live where they work, for example, healthcare facilities and schools can’t retain workers. The revolving door of faces inevitably erodes trust in those systems and the systems struggle to deliver on their promises.
We are here and we are thriving
While pressing for solutions to these complex problems, Duke sometimes encountered pushback, especially when it came to discussions around race and equity. Too many decision-makers, it seemed, believed that Black people didn’t live in rural communities. And too many Oregonians believed rural communities were unsafe for Black people. These assumptions came into stark relief as grant-making entities unleashed a torrent of money to advocacy and social service organizations following the murder of George Floyd. Duke couldn’t help but observe how much of that money went to urban areas and how little to rural ones.
In response, Duke launched the Black Rural Network (BRN). Her aims were simple yet profound: dispel the myth that Black people don’t live in rural areas and counteract the narrative that Black people are marginalized and disadvantaged. “I wanted to create opportunities for Black folks to talk about being Black within the context of how to support our communities in various spaces. Black people are living in rural areas and we’re thriving in rural areas.”
As Duke was crisscrossing the state to build BRN, she began drawing ever wider recognition. In 2022, Governor Kate Brown appointed her to the state’s Racial Justice Council (RJC) Environmental Equity Committee. That same year, Coburg-based Rural Development Initiatives (RDI) invited her to speak at its biennial “Regards to Rural” conference. She maximized the impact of that invitation by hosting BRN’s inaugural event one day later at the same location, attracting more than 100 participants from across the state. She secured grants and sponsorships to cover transportation, lodging, meal, and registration costs so financial considerations wouldn’t be a barrier to attendance to either gathering.
A great incubator
Duke’s work made her a perfect fit for CWL’s “Turn Up Your Voice.” In a mutually beneficial arrangement, Duke helped CWL spread the word about the program and, by participating in it herself, further honed her advocacy skills. “It's always good to be in community with like-minded people because iron sharpens iron,” she says.
“CWL creates a safe space for women to grow into their power,” she continues. “A lot of times power is not given to us. And even when there's space for it, we don't know how to grow into it. CWL is a great incubator.”
In 2023, Duke was appointed to the Oregon Commission for Black Affairs and received a Professional Achievement Award from the Oregon Commission for Women. She also relocated to Central Oregon, where views of Smith Rock State Park now help soothe her soul and refuel her tank.
In this higher, dryer, and sunnier landscape, Duke continues to focus on the needs of those who are often left out of the political process. She jumped at the opportunity to help develop a curriculum for the Oregon Health Authority’s Consumer Advisory Council aimed at teaching Oregon Health Plan members how to advocate for improved mental health services in rural areas. “I’ve participated in a lot of trainings and I know where the holes are. Most trainings are geared toward middle- and upper-income people,” she says. Her goal is to bridge that gap so that everyone, regardless of economic status, can learn how to influence local and state government.
A book and a possible run for office are on the horizon. “I’ve definitely heard from others that my voice is needed at a different level. I'm trying to get myself together for that.”
Her book will recount her advocacy experiences in Oregon and examine the nuanced realities of race and class. “In rural areas, Black people often live in biracial households, and their experiences are different from those of Black people in urban areas,” she explains. “I understand there’s suffering, but there’s also resilience. Our communities are a testament to survival, and we’re doing just fine.”
In a state often stereotyped for its progressive ideals, Duke’s tireless work reminds us that true change requires grappling with complex truths and confronting the systems that keep all people from thriving.