Gatekeepers of paradise

By Ben Olson
Reader Staff

Being born and raised in Sandpoint, I’ve done a bit of gatekeeping over the years.

The term “gatekeeping” began trending a few years ago to describe “When someone takes it upon themselves to decide who does or does not have access or rights to a community or identity,” according to Urban Dictionary.

It can exist in a frivolous form, such as someone taking a picture of their delicious burrito and posting it online; then, when someone asks where they bought it, the poster might reply, “Nope, not going to blow this little spot up on the internet.” Or when someone says they love a band, a gatekeeper might say, “Oh, you do, huh? What’s the bass player’s name?” as if only true fans will know the answer. (That’s a trick question; nobody knows any bass player’s name).

But there’s a more sinister form of gatekeeping that isn’t just about burritos and bands. The term once referred to people who have their hands on the levers of institutional power — such as media executives or political leaders — as they are the ones who decide what voices should be heard and what issues deserve attention.

Gatekeeping in Sandpoint comes in a few different forms. There’s the old-school gatekeeping that most locals have practiced here for decades: don’t tell anyone about our “secret,” and maybe Sandpoint might experience a few more years of bliss before becoming another soulless resort town. That means to hell with the “Best Place to Live” awards and “Funkiest Small Town” honors that you see pop up from time to time. That invented nonsense only serves one purpose: to entice people into either visiting or moving to Sandpoint.

The newer form of gatekeeping around here is especially odious because it involves an entitled group of people — mostly newcomers who have fled here for political reasons — who believe Sandpoint is only open to one particular ideology, one religion, one worldview, one mentality.

They often spout these opinions on social media.

I encourage everyone to give up on Facebook because it has become a cesspool of fear, anger, xenophobia, division and, yes, gatekeeping that doesn’t serve a small community like Sandpoint. I abandoned it years ago after growing tired of dedicating several hours a day to monitoring Reader posts for hateful, inappropriate comments.

After the election, I got a call from a friend who was feeling down. They’d just read a Facebook post from some jerk mouthing off about how North Idaho doesn’t welcome people who aren’t Republicans or people who don’t support Donald Trump. This friend moved here about a decade ago and said that back then, the people of Sandpoint were especially welcoming to them as they began their new job.

“People used to ask me, ‘What brought you here?” they told me.

I can relate to that. Growing up, we’d often ask tourists what the hell they were doing in this little backwater town.

“I’ve noticed people don’t ask new people that much anymore,” they continued, “I guess now everyone just assumes you moved here for political reasons.”

It is undeniable that Idaho has become a haven for right-wing extremism over the years, but what the national media often gets wrong is that even in the reddest part of a red state, there will always be a heterogeneous mixture of people that balance a community. That means this place has straight people, gay people, bisexual people and transgender people. There are white people, black people, brown people, Asian people. There are conservatives, independents, centrists, liberals, apolitical people and everything in between. There are Jews, Buddhists, atheists and Christians. 

Just like everywhere else in America, there might be majorities, but there are always variances that give a particular place its unique flavor. It’s no different in Sandpoint. 

“People feel like they’re not welcome in this state anymore,” my friend said. “It’s a hard thing to read the majority of comments on that Facebook post saying I’m not welcome here anymore. To tell the truth, I wouldn’t have moved here if I knew Idaho was like this.”

We ended our depressing conversation by giving each other hope that not everyone is like this. There will always be a community that exists underneath the ugly reality. It’s the people who volunteer — who serve on nonprofit boards and dedicate their spare time to improving our community instead of tearing it down. It’s small business owners who donate their services to good causes, service workers who work long hours and often deal with grumpy customers, artists and musicians who add flavor to our community. It’s the people who root for all of us to succeed, not for some of us to fail.

You are welcome here, dear reader. No matter who or what you are. You will always be welcome. Don’t ever let anyone gatekeep our community from you. Red, blue, gay, straight, old, young, conservative, liberal — it doesn’t matter. You are welcome.