How to survive 2024 in Portage County – The Portager

There is one scene in Civil War that scared me more than all the horrors of modern weapons and merciless war crimes. If you haven’t seen the film, don’t worry, I won’t give anything away.

You may be familiar with the premise of the film: the United States is at war with itself, while rebel states fight against an authoritarian government in Washington. The political contours of the story are never revealed, so we can all relate to it. It’s an anti-war film meant to send a warning, because the protagonist says, “Don’t do that.”

The civil war brings violence into everyday life, resulting from the stress of scarcity and fear.

The scene I’m referring to takes place in western Pennsylvania. A group of war correspondents approach a gas station — which looks strikingly like the Marathon on Main Street in Mantua — and find it occupied by an armed posse. In the open back of an adjacent car wash, two bloodied men hang from the rafters, apparently dead but not quite.

“Who are you?” asks a journalist.

“Looters,” a man with a gun replies. “I used to know this guy. We went to high school together. He didn’t talk much. Now he’s much more talkative. We’ve been discussing what to do with them for two days now.”

Neighbors turn against neighbors. One steals from the other, who tortures him in revenge.

The production of this film and its popularity reflect the national fear that our country is being split in half, like neighbors at the gas station. Division breeds hatred, and from there it’s a short path to violence. Even country artists seem to have retreated from inciting the culture wars and instead are repairing “The Great Divide,” as the song by Luke Combs and Billy Strings puts it. “We’re about to fall apart.”

I try to avoid alarm and don’t watch cable news. As someone with a mix of values ​​that range from capitalist to communalist, I oppose both parties’ programs and can’t stand the fearmongering I hear on Fox and MSNBC. And given all the good work and cooperation I see in Portage County through my work at The Portager, I generally assume there won’t be a civil war here.

And yet, in the summer of 2020, I witnessed signs of evil when some residents raised the specter of violence in response to the protests following the killing of George Floyd. Their messages and comments on social media were terrifying:

“I’m ready for all of you.”

“I will make sure you live one more day.”

“You have to get run over.”

“It’s almost like wanting to be found on a milk carton.”

Where in the world did that come from? That’s not the face of Portage County that I see most days in the pages of the Portager. In this newspaper, you’ll find Republicans and Democrats working together to feed their community, clean up after a tornado, and cheer on their children’s sports teams. Political ideology is irrelevant at the level of our communities and churches. You don’t have to shake up your party to fix a pothole.

So why the anger? To me, comments like “I’ll let you live” suggest a dark undercurrent on the fringe, fed by national political rhetoric, that could become mainstream under stressful conditions like the attempted murder of one of the candidates.

Under the wrong conditions, the human brain switches from a cooperative attitude to a tribal one. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing – it’s how we evolved to stay safe in more dangerous times. In his book The Status Game, author Will Storr shows the human need for status in work, life, and politics. If we can’t get it through success or virtue, then we seek it through dominance. Everyone is susceptible to status games, and sometimes dominance games.

We can’t change our brains, but we can learn to recognize when emotional narratives cloud our common sense. If someone on TV convinces you that Republicans or Democrats are evil, but you then see Republicans and Democrats volunteering at a food bank in your community, you can be sure that the television version is a caricature.

For a politician who wants your vote or a media platform that wants your clicks, the enemy is manipulative, selfish, and trying to harm you.

For you and me reading this article in Portage County, the “enemy” is Rick or Julie or Blake from up the street.

They go to your church and complain about the price of eggs at the checkout. They want their children to be safe and have enough money to start their own family one day. They want their parents to stay healthy as long as possible.

This newspaper was mailed to every home in Portage County today, so they’re probably reading this. They’re reading the story about people adopting kittens and the girls who went to the state. They’re praying for the Bey family of Brimfield on page 6, who got the news no one wants to hear. They think alpacas are cute. And they’re looking at the obituaries, which tell where we’re all going one day, no matter what we do or say, whether it’s “I’ll let you live” or “I’ll help you.”

This year will be emotional, but we must not give up our goodwill towards our neighbours. If we treat each other with unwavering decency, 2024 will be a model of community solidarity, despite our differences.

Reject dominance games and emotional manipulation.

Join the people who will support you through any situation: your family and your community.

We are a community.