The Steep and Thorny Way

by Cat Winters

  “I brought flowering almonds for you,” she said, and she handed me the flowers, which she had wrapped in a white handkerchief and secured with a ribbon the same pink as the petals.

  “Are these for luck, too,” I asked, “like the alfalfa?”

  “No, for hope.” She squeezed my hand. “An entire bouquet full of hope.”

  My parents climbed back into the winter coats and the pots and the pans up front, and Uncle Clyde maneuvered the car around in the opposite direction and steered us out of the Paulissens’ driveway. Just as I had watched our house disappear from view behind me, I peeked over my shoulder and observed the trees swallowing up Laurence’s blond hair, his blue eyes, his lanky figure—his sorrow—until all that I saw were leaves and branches and sparrows flitting across the boughs.

  Yet Fleur remained, sitting right there beside me, with her fingers laced through mine and the pink bouquet spread across both of our laps.

  Uncle Clyde drove us past the sweet-smelling fields and rolling hills of northwestern Oregon, and we traveled through the growing metropolis of Portland until the bridge crossing the Columbia River to Washington rose into view. We left the state of my birth behind and entered a new world, with different laws, different adventures and challenges; a state in which I’d taste even more of love and heartbreak, hate and triumphs; where I’d dance with Joe in jazz clubs, grow into a woman with Fleur, sharpen my brain, start a career, and meet people with skin colors similar to mine. A state in which I would eventually marry and give birth to children with their own beautiful colors.

  For me, the rest was not silence.

  It was loud and powerful and melodic.

  PORTLAND CHAPTER OF THE NAACP, 50TH ANNIVERSARY, 1964.

  POST-1923 CHANGES TO OREGON LAWS

  1925: The Supreme Court overturned the Ku Klux Klan–sponsored 1922 Compulsory Education Act, which would have required children in Oregon between the ages of eight and sixteen to attend public schools—and only public schools. The KKK had pushed for the law in an attempt to close down private Catholic schools. The overturning of the act came at a time when internal struggles and public opinion against the organization ended the KKK’s brief control over Oregon and its politics.

  1926: Oregonians voted to repeal the “exclusion laws” from the state constitution. The laws, first enacted in 1844 and written into the original 1857 state constitution, were aimed at preventing African Americans from settling in Oregon. Though not rigorously enforced, the laws deterred African Americans from entering the state in the latter half of the nineteenth century and kept the state predominantly white.

  1927: Oregonians removed a clause in the state constitution that denied African Americans the right to vote. They also removed restrictions that discriminated against African American and Chinese American voters.

  1951: The federal government repealed all legislation banning interracial marriages in Oregon. In 1967, the United States government lifted the nationwide ban on interracial marriages, after the landmark case of Loving v. Virginia.

  1953: Governor Paul L. Patterson signed Oregon’s Civil Rights Bill, outlawing “any distinction, discrimination, or restriction on account of race, religion, color, or national origin” in public places.

  1972: Oregon repealed laws that criminalized same-sex sexual activity.

  1983: Legislation abolished the Oregon State Board of Eugenics, called at that time the Oregon State Board of Social Protection, responsible for 2,648 forced sterilizations on children, teens, and adults from 1923 to 1981. Nineteen years later, in 2002, Governor John Kitzhaber issued a formal apology for Oregon’s use of eugenics. Between 1900 and 1925, thirty-two other states enacted eugenics laws in an effort to prevent the birth of “unfit” Americans.

  2002: Oregon removed racist language from the state constitution.

  2014: A U.S. federal district court legalized same-sex marriages in Oregon. In 2015, the Supreme Court of the United States lifted a nationwide ban on same-sex marriages.

  2015: Oregon became the third state to ban “conversion therapy” on minors. The practice was used in an attempt to change sexual orientation or gender identity.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  LIKE MOST OF MY NOVELS, THE STEEP AND THORNY Way grew out of a series of different story ideas that one day, without warning, exploded into a full-fledged book plot that gripped me by the shoulders and refused to let me go. In fact, I had to put this particular novel aside to write another contracted book, but the story called out to me the entire time and begged for me not to forget it.

  Inspired by the HBO TV series Boardwalk Empire and my interest in World War I history, I at first thought about writing a novel focused on female bootleggers trying to survive with their war-widowed mothers in the 1920s. I also envisioned a completely separate novel involving a teen boy who’s hiding the fact that he’s gay in early-twentieth-century America. Those two threads eventually worked their way into the fabric of The Steep and Thorny Way in the forms of the Paulissens, the Markses, and Joe Adder.

  The central plot of the book—Hanalee’s story—emerged after I researched Oregon’s nineteenth- and twentieth-century interracial marriage laws for one of my other novels. When I dug deeper into the history of the state’s prejudices and restrictions, I unearthed the troubling exclusion laws and unofficial “sundown laws,” the latter of which kept African Americans from passing through certain towns after dark. I also discovered the widespread use of eugenics in Oregon and the Ku Klux Klan’s takeover of the state in the early 1920s—including the KKK’s control over the 1922 gubernatorial election. As a lifelong resident of the typically open-minded West Coast, and a resident of Oregon itself since 2006, the lesser-known histories of the area shocked and saddened me. Whenever I experience a passionate reaction to a controversial piece of history, I find myself compelled to write a book about it—not to dig up old wounds and tarnish a region’s reputation, but to pay tribute to those who endured and overcame the forgotten injustices of the past. I’ve always been in awe of fighters and survivors.

  For some reason, the idea of using Hamlet as the template for such a book entered my head in the summer of 2013, and that’s when the entire plot of this novel burst into life. I don’t remember the exact moment the Hamlet concept possessed me, but I do remember telling my daughter about my early thoughts for the book as we walked between aisles of novels at Powell’s Books in downtown Portland, Oregon. She said, “Mom, your eyes look so excited!”

  Before I submitted my proposal for The Steep and Thorny Way to my agent, Barbara Poelle, I, admittedly, got cold feet, despite my extreme passion for the book. I worried that people would be uncomfortable with the fact that I’m a white woman writing about a biracial character. I got nervous about the controversial nature of my chosen subject matters. I nearly even changed my main character to a half-Jewish girl, because my husband is Jewish and I was raised Protestant, and we witnessed some of the prejudices against interfaith marriages when we married in the mid-1990s. Changing Hanalee’s race didn’t feel honest, though. That wasn’t the story that wanted to be told.

  I conferred with my agent and my early readers, all of whom urged me to go forward with the novel. It was important to me to consult with readers of different backgrounds, but I also understood that the opinions of a few people would not necessarily reflect the reactions of all readers.

  I approached the creation of my characters the same way I do with all my novels: through intense, detailed research. Thanks to the Oregon Black Pioneers, the Oregon Historical Society, and the Washington County Museum, I found a wealth of information about the first decades of the 1900s in Oregon—everything from photographs to letters and personal items from the time period, as well as oral histories and museum exhibits, such as the wonderful “A Community on the Move,” presented by both the Oregon Black Pioneers and the Oregon Historical Society in 2015. I also dove into 1920s Harlem Renaissance literature, exploring the works of such writers as Nella Larsen, Zora Neale Hurston
, and Wallace Thurman, who wrote about the varying experiences of African Americans and biracial individuals during the era. I do not claim to have gotten everything right. However, I made every attempt to portray Hanalee’s experiences, as well as Joe’s, with accuracy, honesty, and respect. Any mistakes made in this regard are entirely my own.

  For Joe’s character, I conducted research using such sources as Same-Sex Affairs: Constructing and Controlling Homosexuality in the Pacific Northwest, by Peter Boag (University of California Press, 2003), and the Gay and Lesbian Archives of the Pacific Northwest (www.glapn.org). I first learned about the eugenics movement when I read the book Mad in America: Bad Science, Bad Medicine, and the Enduring Mistreatment of the Mentally Ill, by Robert Whitaker (Basic Books, 2001). Interestingly, the University of Vermont’s website (www.uvm.edu) contains a highly detailed page covering the history of the eugenics movement in Oregon, including a lengthy list of links to historical documents, photographs, and institutions related to the use of eugenics in the state.

  When writing a novel about the prejudices of the past, a writer must inevitably tread a delicate line when deciding whether to incorporate terms and labels now considered offensive. If I chose to completely strip The Steep and Thorny Way of such words, I felt I’d be sanitizing history—cleaning it up and pretending that modern political correctness actually existed in the past. I strove to study the language of the 1920s to reflect how people in that era would have described both Hanalee and Joe and to learn how the two of them would have identified themselves, to make their characters and social interactions as authentic as possible. There are some words, however, whose power to hurt and belittle goes beyond the need for historical accuracy, and I chose not to use them. No offense is intended by the inclusion of any derogatory and/or outdated words within this book.

  As I mentioned before, William Shakespeare’s Hamlet served as the template for the main plot structure of the novel, as well as the inspiration for the characters and the source of the chapter titles. I also wanted to incorporate an African American story to reflect Hanalee’s father’s influence upon her. I turned to the 1996 Coretta Scott King Award–winning story collection Her Stories: African American Folktales, Fairy Tales, and True Tales, by Virginia Hamilton (Blue Sky Press, 1995)—a book I highly recommend. The Creole-based tale “Marie and Redfish” particularly caught my eye. I did a little digging and also found an 1889 retelling of the same story, titled “Posson [sic] Doré,” or “The Golden Fish,” in The Journal of American Folklore (Vol. 2, No. 4, pp. 36–40, American Folklore Society, Jan.–Mar., 1889). I strove to make Hanalee aware of stories and songs from her father’s Southern heritage, as well as from his years of working at the Portland Hotel, in which he would have met other employees transplanted from various regions of the South. To me, “The Golden Fish” also wonderfully represented Hanalee’s growing connection to Joe and his fears of getting caught and butchered. The folktale is one of violence, yet also one of survival and love. I hope readers will find the same to be true of The Steep and Thorny Way.

  I’m extremely grateful that Amulet Books has allowed me to share this novel with the world. If the pages of this book bring hope and inspiration to even one person who’s found himself or herself on a steep and thorny path in life, then I’ll feel I have done my job as its writer.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  MY DEEPEST GRATITUDE GOES TO THE FOLLOWING:

  To Barbara Poelle, my tireless agent, for her continued ability to boost my confidence in my work. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for urging me to press forward with this book.

  To Maggie Lehrman, my talented editor, for sitting across a restaurant table from me in Philadelphia and saying, “I’m sold,” after I’d merely uttered the words “I’m working on a retelling of Hamlet set in the 1920s.” Thank you for editing this novel while also launching your own writing career. I’m incredibly grateful that I’ve had the opportunity to work with you on three of my novels.

  To the entire team at Amulet Books, for their thorough and beautiful work on all my young-adult novels. Special thanks to Erica Finkel, Jason Wells, Susan Van Metre, Tamar Brazis, Maria T. Middleton, Emily Dowdell, Tina Mories in the U.K., my diligent copy editor, proofreaders, and everyone else who played a role in the creation and promotion of this book.

  To my sister, Carrie Raleigh, the very first reader of all of my books and one of the most special people in my life. She called me up in tears after finishing the last chapters of this novel and made me feel I was on the right track. Thank you!

  To Francesca Miller, for her passionate belief in this book and for sharing her insights as a woman who grew up in an interracial home. And to Kim Murphy, for always digging deep into my manuscripts and letting me know exactly what they need.

  To Katrina Sarson, producer of the OPB TV series Oregon Art Beat, for featuring me in a 2014 episode. To the Oregon Historical Society, especially library director Geoff Wexler, for being so patient while the OPB crew filmed me in the archives, and for providing me with a treasure trove of 1920s documents and photographs to peruse. Thanks to Scott Rook for assistance with the use of OHS images in this book.

  To the Oregon Black Pioneers for keeping the history of African Americans in the region so wonderfully alive. And to the Library of Congress and Karen Lange and Pam Madaus of the Washington County Museum in Hillsboro, Oregon, for the generous use of archival images.

  To my team of supportive writer friends, both in person and online: Miriam Forster (who came up with the David-and-Bathsheba connection, as well as the idea of using Hanalee’s boot as a hiding place), Teri Brown, Kelly Garrett, Amber Keyser, Laura Byrd, Heidi Schulz, Lauren DeStefano, Susan Adrian, Ara Burklund, April Genevieve Tucholke, Megan Shepherd, A. G. Howard, Sarah Skilton, Elisabeth Dahl, April Henry, Jenn Reese, Sarah Bromley, and all the amazing kid-lit authors in Portland, Oregon, and around the world. Thanks, also, to the close friends in my life who’ve been cheering me on for decades, with special nods to Regena Orr, Cindy Bullock, Susanne Brookens, Jarret Lovell, Marianne Pitterle, Sarah Eishen, Laura Ponto, and Heather Hoffman.

  To my parents, Richard and Jennifer Proeschel; my cousin Marie Rourke; my aunts, Carol Hacker and Mary Ward; Jack and Lois Karp; and Tim and Kim Karp, for all the years of love and encouragement.

  To my daughter, Meggie, for listening to the entire plot of this book before I’d even written it and telling me she was looking forward to this novel more than anything else I’d written. To my husband, Adam, who has loved and stood by me ever since we were nineteen-year-old college kids. And to my son, Ethan, for his infectious excitement for my books, even though he hasn’t yet been old enough to read them. That will change soon.

  This book is for my cousin Jimmy Hacker, who passed away while I was revising the novel in February 2015. When we were kids, he helped inspire my imagination. As an adult, he showed me what courage looks like when he made a new life for himself in a place that accepted him for who he was. I hope the dedication of this novel will help keep his memory alive and bring some comfort to his mother, sister, and longtime partner.

  IMAGE CREDITS

  This page: Courtesy of the Oregon Historical Society, # bb012946. This page: Courtesy of Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division, National Photo Company Collection. This page: Courtesy of Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division, National Child Labor Committee Collection. This page: Courtesy of Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division, National Child Labor Committee Collection. This page: Courtesy of Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division, Farm Security Administration/Office of War Information Photograph Collection. This page: Courtesy of Washington County Museum. This page: Courtesy of Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division. This page: Courtesy of Washington County Museum. This page: Courtesy of Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division, National Photo Company Collection. This page: Courtesy of the Oregon Historical Society, # bb010113. This page: Courtesy of the Oregon Hi
storical Society, # bb002204.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CAT WINTERS is the author of In the Shadow of Blackbirds, which collected three starred reviews and was a finalist for the William C. Morris Award for debut YA fiction, and The Cure for Dreaming. She lives in Portland, Oregon. www.catwinters.com.