We’re all still neighbors

Recently, as I listened to (highly opinionated) politics podcasts in the car, my middle child started asking questions, which led me to provide an explanation of exactly what and why the commentators feared for our country.

A familiar expression settled on his face. It’s the same one I see when he’s spent too much time thinking about black holes and how we can’t see them so what if one is nearby and it’s sucking in our solar system and how would we even know until it was too late...

Fear. Panicky fear.

So, I checked in. I asked if he wanted to talk about it or if he needed help calming down first. He said he wanted to talk.So, as I often do, I attacked his worries with logic. I looked for the worst possible scenario and I tried to game out what would happen to us. Our country falls into violent totalitarianism. What then? What of us?

“Do you think there were happy people living in Soviet Russia?” I asked him. He didn’t know so I had to tell him. Yes. There are happy people everywhere. Even in unhappy places.There was a lot I left out. A lot of “what if’s” ignored. A lot of assuming we’d be among the lucky. I was trying to assuage fear here. I had to rose-y it up a bit.But the fact remains, in even the bleakest times there are still birthdays and holidays, graduations and afternoons playing with your kids. The little things making up life.

I had a morning like that today. My middle child and I cracked open geodes he got for Christmas. His sister joined us for a brief round of video games. I helped with set-up and clean-up when they painted with their mom.Then I logged onto Facebook. As is usually the case these days, the debate was in full swing. It was like stepping into a fast-moving river of bile. People I love and respect refused to hear each other. They debated which facts were facts and which were spin. They assigned to those on the side opposite them a list of crimes and motives. The other side, in turn, ascribed those same motives and crimes right back.

It bummed me out. It darn near ruined a flawless day.One truth I live by is that we all choose our own explanation of the facts we see before us. It’s one of the reasons I don’t fear strangers. I was a police reporter in the Valley for 10 years. For a decade, I read every police press release issued. My neighbors did some pretty heinous things to each other in that time. My takeaway? Nearly 100 percent of violent crime I wrote about involved people that knew each other. This is a pretty safe place to live as long as you aren’t in the drug scene or married to someone with severe and untreated rage issues.This isn’t an opinion you hear often. More often, people encourage each other to invest in home security, be that a doorbell camera or a handgun. As I still leave my door unlocked most nights, my neighbors are girding themselves against that one-in-a-million shot that they’ll be the first person in a decade to fall victim to some stranger showing up at their Mat-Su Valley home.

I find solace in the statistics. In the facts.

So here are the facts presented to me currently: I live in a supremely divided country. Half of my Facebook feed is accusing the other half of countenancing treason and the other half is making an identical accusation right back.

Judging by the facts presented via social media, we’re teetering on the precipice.

But here is another fact to add to that mix: on a daily basis I meet people I disagree with politically face-to-face. They are my colleagues. They are my friends. They are my family. I love and respect them and feel they return that affection. Politics rarely come up but, when they do, the conversation is usually light with some good-natured ribbing back and forth. We remain friends, neighbors, co-workers.

As the news darkens and the future seems uncertain, I choose to believe that my neighbors will continue to be my neighbors. I will believe this until my neighbors prove me wrong.

The facts, as I see them, are on my side.

Andrew Wellner is a former Frontiersman reporter and resides in Wasilla.