Arts Blog by Sabra Comins
July 2026 – Celebrating Perspectives
With the country’s impending 250th birthday, I am taking my time to decide how to celebrate.
I know a piano professor who plans to recognize the 250 years by arranging a week-long program with music written by immigrant composers. Another concert boasts classical music by all American composers. Could they perform the same pieces?
A small community on the Olympic Peninsula prepares for their 15th annual Interdependence Day to celebrate the interconnectedness that sustains their region.
Oregon Humanities offers Beyond 250: Conversations About Democracy and Community throughout Oregon to provide space to reflect on our country’s past 250 years and contemplate where we aspire to be in the future. These facilitated discussions have weighty titles such as: Talking About Values Across Political Divides, To What do we Pledge? and Who are We the People?
I sign up for one of their discussions. When I walk into the Corvallis Library, I realize it is not a program where I can comfortably sit in the back and take notes. Nine of us seat ourselves in a circle of chairs to tackle the question: What does it mean to be American?
Our facilitator, Chisao Hata, is a performance artist, educator, arts integration specialist, and third-generation Japanese American living in Portland. Before leading us through activities, she gives us three rules to follow: speak from your own perspective, listen without judgement, and realize that different truths exist simultaneously.
We introduce ourselves with body gestures and feelings. Collectively, we are curious, open, present, thirsty, hungry, fatigued, interested, and alive. We walk through the room with a notecard and pen in hand to answer Hata’s question: When did you first realize you were American? Her words roll around in my mind; I increase my pace hoping to conjure an answer.
The difficulty of this query surprises me. I don’t have a specific memory when I know I am American. As a child, I identified as being Alaskan – though not Alaska Native – which felt distinct from being American.
When everyone stops walking to indicate they have an answer, Hata reminds us, “There is no right or wrong response.” We share stories of dads wearing military uniforms, an immigrant getting his American citizenship, and the youngest participant being temporarily separated from her mom to get through customs. I start to feel that my memory of being Alaskan has merit, though I still long for a defining moment that illustrates a greater awareness of others’ perspectives.
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Speak from your own perspective.
Before going to this discussion, I tried to answer, What does it mean to be American? Every idea I thought could define an American also did not. An American could wear red, white and blue and be patriotic, or not. An American could be born or live on American soil, or not. Similarly, Americans could vote or pay taxes in the United States, or not.
For our next activity, we write one American value on each of three slips of paper, then work in groups to write a single sentence that incorporates all of the values. My group struggles with this and ends up excluding the words ownership and uniform. We write: Americans value a welcoming, free, protective, and open society; however division, selfishness, and greed seem closer to our current practices.
Listen without judgement.
Hata invites us to a mock cafe for our final activity. Half of us casually converse about the afternoon while the other half listen. Comments include: a struggle to assemble because of different values; a hope for a future that values the richness of our diversity; a need for balance with individual experience; a sadness for lofty values that don’t align with deportations; and a statement that if it was really bad, the country would be emptying out of people. We listen without responding, allowing everyone’s perspective to exist in this shared space, all true.
Different truths exist simultaneously.
We end the discussion with gestures and feelings. As a group, we are grateful, open, present, unsure, contemplative, worried, interested, and compassionate. Wrestling with these topics and hearing the opinions of others feels important. It helps me to decentralize my perspective, a worthy practice that acknowledges our need for one another, accepts multiple truths, and aids in discovering the diverse ways to celebrate 250 years.
In the spirit of collective perspectives and interdependence, in my studio this month I will exchange altered paper, textiles, or other media with artists to make art that reflects mutual reliance. Outside of my studio, I will explore two upcoming events (see below) to expand my awareness of Latinx culture and representation through monuments.
Happy celebrating!
Sabra
On July 10, Oregon Humanities and the Corvallis Museum will host Master Artist Michael Bernard Stevenson Jr. in presenting Monuments and Memorials: Who, What, Where, When, and Why?
Oregon Humanities Beyond 250 Conversations: Monuments and Memorials
On July 16, Unspoken / Unseen opens at TAC. This exhibition showcases work by Latinx artists who have selected art they feel is urgent to be seen now.
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Sabra Comins weaves her natural science background, curiosity of human behavior, and thoughtfulness toward all beings in her writing and art. She has been involved with The Arts Center since moving to Corvallis in 2018. Sabra completed TAC’s Artist Accelerator Program in 2020, and currently leads Unlocking Art activities and serves on the Exhibition Committee. When Sabra is not outside or in her studio, she is likely to be sending letters in handmade envelopes.