Brooke McLaughlin opened her mailbox one day in Anchorage and found it stuffed with a flood of political mail, and instead of tossing it in the recycling bin, the longtime Alaskan decided to build something beautiful from the anger. The source reported that McLaughlin, who had been collecting the campaign flyers and attack ads, felt the weight of the divisiveness pressing down on her, so she pivoted her community art installation into something that refuses to give the vitriol any more oxygen.
The project started as a hive-shaped structure, but McLaughlin quickly realized she didn’t want the hateful words plastered on the outside of something meant to celebrate connection. “There is no growth or give back of service in complaining,” she said, explaining that the sheer volume of mail she received in a single day left her exhausted and searching for a different focus. What began as an idea to cover the exterior with political mailers transformed into a plan to fill the inside with 300 triangles, each one covered with artwork from Anchorage classrooms and community groups.
The Geometry of Healing
McLaughlin’s hive will stand as a physical metaphor for what a community can build when it chooses collaboration over conflict. The structure features a wheelchair-accessible door and a shell made entirely of recycled materials, ensuring that the project itself embodies the sustainability it hopes to inspire. Inside, visitors will look up to see hexagon shapes and triangular panels that tell stories about what community means to the children and families who contribute.
“Children will be able to go inside the hive, essentially, and look up to see all of these different triangles, hexagon shapes that tell us about our community,” McLaughlin said. “Hopefully it’ll spark conversation and honestly it’ll spark love amongst all of us.” The design choice carries weight in a state where political discourse often feels as harsh as the winter wind, and McLaughlin is determined to create a space where that energy simply doesn’t exist.
Shielding the Next Generation
The decision to exclude the political mail from the final structure wasn’t just aesthetic—it was protective. McLaughlin pointed out that children today are bombarded with divisive content not just in their mailboxes but across every digital platform they touch. “Our children are exposed to it on social media. They’re exposed it digitally. It is everywhere, and they see it. They hear people talking about it,” she said. “Let’s just not even bring that into the conversation one more time. Let’s give it no energy.”
By keeping the angry words out of the hive, McLaughlin is creating a sanctuary where kids can focus on creativity rather than conflict. Each triangle represents a classroom’s vision of community, a collage of neighbors working together, replacing the shouting match of campaign season with quiet collaboration.
Paper, Reborn
The political mail isn’t going to waste, though. McLaughlin plans to recycle the flyers by breaking them down into pulp and pressing them into new paper, which she hopes to use for thank-you notes or other materials the community can share. It’s a literal transformation of noise into something useful, a final act of alchemy that turns complaints into gratitude.
McLaughlin is asking schools and community groups to commit to the project by December 1, and anyone interested in contributing can reach her at [email protected]. The hive’s creation shows what happens when someone rejects division with art instead.
“I don’t even want the words, I don’t even want the material, to be part of something so beautiful,” McLaughlin said, a sentiment that hangs in the air like the hum of bees in a healthy hive.