A place for everybody and everybody in their place

Editor,

I admit that moving back to Arkansas has had its challenges. There isn’t a decent gym in town. Going from world-class medical care in Seattle to “I’m sorry, none of the doctors are accepting new patients” has been frustrating. Carroll County struggles with poverty, hunger, addiction and domestic violence. Small town politics rears an ugly head at times. In truth, these issues existed in Seattle; the difference is that it was often easier to insulate myself. 

Eureka Springs is a confluence of ironies. I jokingly tell friends that Eureka sometimes feels like living inside a gay Advent calendar. I mean this in the most joyous, celebratory way. Snow globe is another analogy. We have balls, festivals, dozens of parades, and innumerable parties. We all live in bubbles to a certain degree. We are a hodgepodge of business owners, community servants, hospitality stewards, retirees, and families raising kids. 

Yesterday, I received my first cruel comment about living in Eureka. I was visiting Bentonville, a fine town. I met a woman who told me I dressed like I was from Eureka. At first I took this as a compliment but soon realized I was mistaken. She made sure to let me know she didn’t intend her words as a compliment. I playfully said that I try to fit in, and she looked at me as if I was infected with the plague. It was bizarre and surreal to be held in contempt for living in Eureka.

 I decided not to engage her, thinking this would tempt my own meanness. Internally, I suddenly traveled from Eureka Newbie to Defender of The Tribe. Maybe this person would be a perfect fit for Eureka because there is a niche for everyone here. After all, we had at least one Trump voter in our neighborhood. If I could press the rewind button, I would return to yesterday’s conversation and tell this person, “There will always be a place for you in Eureka.” 

Joanna ES Campbell