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Journey into New Normal -Day 61

May 21, 2020

Today's dialectic – I’ve been thinking about the mask thing. On the one hand, they are essential for curbing the first lines of transmission. (I don’t know where people around me have been, and I don’t really want to know - TMI.)  So if one accepts the science, it is self-evident.  These nano-sized hitchhikers know how to catch a ride on spewed words and allergy sneezes, hang ten on droplets as they ride through the air following gravity, and innocently find their next host. So our public health agents have offered logical recommendations – when we go out in public, wear a mask and when you get to home base, wash your hands. It’s not rocket science; it’s epidemiology 101. But thanks to the fool in the White House, public mask-wearing has become a political game of chicken. And half of the Midwesterners with whom I now publicly circulate have taken his lead, bringing the chicken game with them.

I might assume that those who opt out of masking in close public spaces are, by default, Trumpers. But it is a false assumption; one quickly disproved by a progressive millennial colleague.  She told me that native Midwesterners like to exercise freedom of choice – to wear or not wear a mask.  It is like a badge of honor; she referred to this sense of implicit prerogative as the region’s fiercely independent nature. They dislike doing what they’re told if they don’t have a say. Wow, I’ve been wearing blinders, my impressions have been trained on the mellow, understated side of that coin.

So here we have it, a dialectic on masks. My reasons for wearing a mask run wide in another direction. I do it as a sign of solidarity – remember, the we are in this together thing? It’s like Kaepernick taking a knee during the national anthem.  Sure, it keeps me mindful of the blatant indiscrimination of the virus.  But when I look into the mirror of another homemade masked face, I am reminded that we are in a massive moment of shift, full of possibility.  One that we collectively generated through a mesh of extenuating connections.  We are in a tumble together, the whole planet.  The masks say, pay attention and remember – you are not alone nor are your inconsequential.

I have noticed since the soft reopening that corporately owned businesses have put into place a more prescribed prevention protocol, with their employees wearing masks, checking customers out behind screens and directing shoppers to social distance with visual reminders strategically placed. I put my hand up and admit that I am comforted by the measures – all of them.  I have also noticed that locally owned businesses implement a more cavalier protocol, ones that seem to suit the owners’ sense of self-determination and, perhaps, their politics. In these stores, very few employees and customers wear masks, and there are no shields between customers and retailers at the registers. Where a line might form, there are usually taped six-foot sectioned markers.  As I conducted my business at these establishments, I was not at ease, making a mental note not to return until a vaccine came out, which is counter to my preference for supporting local business.  But as I moved through those local stores, I felt like I’d walked into a meta-game of truth or dare.  Oh yeah, or the chicken game.

I asked my young colleague what circumstances she would consider mask worthy.  She texted back, “I sort of have mixed feelings…I feel like you should wear a mask when you’re going to be in close quarters with someone, especially someone you don’t know well?  But then again, I haven’t been wearing a mask by default at the grocery stores…I just try to avoid people being close to me.” For her, the right to choose the moment and circumstance is the most important thing.

Personally, I think there is another reason she doesn’t wear a mask. It is because she has not found the right one. She has built her personalized mask wardrobe. Women want choice! I can see her in one in a Minion patterned fabric, another with a Wonder Woman print, and don’t forget Mario or a space aliens’ motif. Like millennials and hijabs, if they must be a thing, let them make the right personal statement.  

Myself, I like to wear bandannas in an Annie Oakley statement some days.


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