Fremont County is large, diverse, and filled with opinions, or “talk in the 10.” “Talk in the 10” is an opportunity for you, our readers, to articulate and share your thoughts about what is happening in the community with the community. Letters may have been edited for clarity and length, but generally have been published exactly as received. The views expressed in the following are solely those of the author. Send your letters to our editors by emailing opinion@county10.com
“More Grit Than Quit” reads the billboard greeting southbound drivers on their way into Riverton. It’s a strong slogan—one most of us can get behind. Hard work, discipline, perseverance—these are values worth celebrating. But the image attached to that message tells a different story.
There’s a reason public indecency laws exist. As a society, we’ve long understood that some things are meant to remain private—not out of shame, but out of respect. Respect for ourselves, and for the unconsenting public. It’s why you can compliment a stranger’s shoes or her hairstyle, but not her body. One honors the person; the other crosses a boundary.
That boundary matters—especially in shared spaces.
The current billboard, displayed prominently along a main thoroughfare, forces that boundary to be crossed for every passerby: families, children, and individuals who did not choose to engage with that level of exposure. If I wanted to attend a bodybuilding competition, I could buy a ticket. That would be my choice. But here, there is no opting out. The audience is involuntary.
And that’s the issue.
Ironically, Iron Works Gym itself maintains a policy against indecent exposure within its own walls. That standard recognizes something important: environments shape behavior, and standards matter. If discretion is expected inside the gym, why is it abandoned on a billboard five times larger than life, facing the entire community?
This isn’t about targeting an individual. It’s about what we, collectively, normalize.
When we blur the line between public and private, we don’t become freer— we become coarser. Moral relativism has a way of spiraling into something else entirely: a kind of cultural immoral self-centeredness where personal expression overrides communal respect. And once that line moves, it rarely moves back on its own.
For many, this billboard isn’t aspirational. It’s a reminder of how easily standards can erode when no one is willing to say, “This is inappropriate and we can do better than that.”
Because it is and we can.
We can celebrate strength without sacrificing modesty. We can promote fitness without compromising dignity. We can build a culture where our daughters are encouraged to be strong, capable, and confident— without feeling that their worth (and bodies) must be displayed to be recognized.
That’s real grit. And it doesn’t require us to quit being thoughtful and considerate about the people around us.
So here’s a simple request: take down the current billboard and replace it with something that reflects both strength and respect—something that aligns with the very standards already upheld inside the gym.
Let’s aim higher as a community. Not just stronger—but wiser, too.
Signed,
Ali Etsinger

