The first anniversary of Hurricane Katrina stirred a few mainstream journalists to reflect on President Bush’s performance in its wake. Despite the president’s acknowledgment of the role that a history of racial discrimination played in the lives of many New Orleans residents, he has done little to follow up on his noble words. Nonetheless, before the rest of us become too self-righteous, it would be wise to take a closer look at the history of race relations. Even in Maine, a state where racial politics seems less salient than in much of the rest of the United States, race has often been an occasion for bitter conflict and injustice.

I recently received a stunning illustrated anthology that highlights both the persistence of racism and continuing efforts to redress it. “Maine’s Visible Black History” (Tilbury House of Gardiner) is a collaborative, multi-scholar work edited by and with extensive commentary from H.H. Price and Gerald E. Talbot. Price is a longtime civil rights activist with a background in African American history. Talbot is an eighth-generation black American and black history scholar and the first black to be elected to the Maine Legislature (1972-1978). (Full disclosure: Harriet Price is a longtime family friend.)

Price and Talbot will be speaking and signing books at the Bangor Public Library at 2 p.m. Saturday, Sept. 9. Their anthology covers slavery in Maine (which lasted until 1783), work, religion, family, education, military service, community, social change, arts, science, sports, politics, law, civil rights and the underground railroad.

One comment cannot do justice to this broad range of topics, but as a totality the collection should alter the way that black history is taught in our high schools and universities. The role that Maine played in the underground railroad, the contribution that free blacks made to escape efforts and the persistence of racism even in post-World War II Maine are all themes worthy of more attention in our history texts and our broader politics.

We think of the South or of major northern cities like Chicago as scenes of struggle for equal access to public accommodations and rental housing. Nonetheless, while national media focused on demonstrations in Selma (1965), anti-discrimination initiatives in the Maine Legislature “encountered vigorous opposition from landlords, realtors, and conservative legislators.”

The continuing national crisis and the activism of the Maine chapter of the NAACP were crucial in the 1971 passage of the Maine Human Rights Act. Yet important as these milestones have been, racial discrimination has remained a problem in need not only of constant attention but redefinition. The willingness both to expand the definition of rights and to explore the question of to whom these apply is a source of controversy but also political vitality. Equal access to public accommodation is vital, but cultural equality is as important to both self-identity and to freedom. NAACP pressure in the ’90s helped expand corporate economic opportunities and pressed L.L. Bean to employ minority models in their advertising.

In the past quarter century, the quest for racial justice has become intertwined in both positive and negative ways with broad patterns of working- class economic stagnation. In a negative vein, unemployment in some mill towns in the 1980s was accompanied by occasional outbreaks of Klan activism. These outbreaks in turn led to coalitions by interfaith activists to foster racial harmony and counter the scapegoating of minorities for the economic troubles of working-class white males.

Other equally significant initiatives have included efforts to combat both racial profiling and indiscriminate sweeps of Hispanic communities by immigration officials. In a broader sense, the quest for racial and ethnic justice both depends on and is crucial to expanding economic opportunity for working-class Americans, a theme I will explore in future columns.

The historical narrative of the earlier and more desperate struggle of blacks for their freedom is impressive and breaks some new ground. Not only did Maine play a key role in the underground railway, blacks in Maine were major contributors to that struggle. Many historians have assumed that liberal whites were key actors in hiding and aiding escaping slaves. Blacks also, however, played a significant and neglected role. For most whites of that era all blacks looked alike. What better way to hide a runaway slave than at the home of free blacks. Price learned something “black people have always known but white people have ignored – including yours truly. Blacks quietly helped runaways without fanfare and documentation, and that is why the clandestine operation worked.”

As we look to our own troubled times, this sort of activism and courage should lend us hope. There is no guaranteed answer to the dangers and inequities we face, but humans in the most desperate of circumstances are capable of extraordinary acts. If reform is to happen, it will require courage, persistence and sensitivity to fluid circumstances.

“Maine’s Visible Black History” deserves the consideration of scholars and activists alike.

John Buell is a political economist who lives in Southwest Harbor. Readers wishing to contact him may e-mail messages to jbuell@acadia.net.