Who Will Survive in America?

“The world is changing right in front of me

Grey hairs, I’m aging, quicker than I thought I’d be”

—J. Cole, “Clouds”

A lot of people ask about the violence when I tell them I live half the year in Northern Mexico. I’ll answer the questions directly and honestly, as the overly “Midwest nice” person that I am.

But if we have a chance to really get into it, I think that living in the United States is more dangerous; at least based on my own personal experiences in the last few years.

Last year I spent more time in Mexico than I did in my “home” of Durango, Colorado. I put home in quotation marks because I often feel just as much, or more at home in Mexico. The people that I’ve interacted with are often welcoming, and warm, giving me a sense of belonging and comfort that I often don’t find in the USA.

I have been back in the USA for one month.

• In that time period there was a shooting across the street at our local Rec Center (by a guy wearing a Maga hat), an armed person threat at the Starbucks next door, and I’ve had to call the police several times for a variety of incidents. All of this in one month, and all of this a stone’s throw from the condo that I own.

This is America. And I feel more likely to be injured or killed by violence in my very privileged, rich community than I do in the comparatively poor place where I spend my winters in Mexico.

I am writing these words in desperation. I am working on a book right now, and I’m trying to save most of my writing energy for that, but this morning I woke up, and I knew I had to write this essay.

If one of these forms of violence ever strikes me, I want to know I expressed myself, even if in a short essay, so that someone else could read it.

This last month my greatest worry has been the state of our economy, and the actions that our president is taking, which could make it very difficult for small business owners like me.

Stressed out, is the perfect phrase to describe how I’ve been feeling.

And then I took a trip to the desert.

Four days without cell service, surrounded by friends. Climbing rocks, hanging in camp, and making new friends. This trip to Indian Creek was super unique because the age range was 19 to 84 years old. And while we were all from different generation we were united in a love of the outdoors.

Coming back I felt a sense of clarity. I am stressed out because others are trying to take my livelihood from me.

I want to lift weights at the rec center, but I’ll do so wondering whether a deranged lunatic will shoot up the place.

I want to go to Starbucks (who am I kidding I’m not going to a local Starbucks) but if I did should I have to worry about an armed person when I just get a cup of tea?

photo by Greg Cairns

People often perceive that as a full-time climber I live a dangerous life. And it is true, I take risks. But they are the risks worth taking, after all the most dangerous place for someone like me is the couch.

Lately, the biggest risks seem like just living normal everyday life in the USA. So many people have mental health problems, and there are so many weapons available to them.

Coming back from my most recent desert trip I felt rejuvenated in my spirit, but I also came back with a sense of clarity that I don’t want to live like this. From my experiences with contacting the police, dealing with my HOA, and navigating the legal system it seems like many dangerous people are allowed to be harmful in plain sight, while good law-abiding citizens become the victims.

I don’t know exactly what my actions look like now, but I do believe in following your intuition, your gut, your “third eye” whatever you want to call it.

And mine is telling me to take measured action, and also to be aware that the United States is becoming less great, by the minute.

Peace, Luke

Check out my new Dirtbag State of Mind podcast episode: “The Art of The Belaytionship with Andy Vo”