I don’t like to wear a mask, and I don’t like it when other people wear masks. I want to see faces. Also, masks are inconvenient and uncomfortable.
Yet, as we’re discovering, a mask is so much more than a mask.
To some, it symbolizes a loss of freedom. Do we live in a society with laws that can force a person to cover—cover in the same way as the Arab women must cover, which is a tradition that has been regarded by our society as an abhorrence for years? At this point in time, no, there are no such laws, only the pressure of public opinion, which is a considerable pressure indeed; and because of this pressure, it’s not surprising that some take the instruction to cover as an infringement, a cause for rebellion.
As with every push-back opinion, there are nuances. The mask also represents change to people who despise change—and I’m not blaming here, because if there’s one thing I hate, it’s change. Also, the mask embodies another truth that we’re smacked in the face with every day until we’re just sick, sick, sick of hearing it—we failed. Failure. Our country, the best country, isn’t the best. The mask is proof that we’ve been brought low by something so tiny that it’s not visible to the eye. This has led to the ceaseless analysis of the lack of preparedness, the denying, the overreacting, and, in contrast, the failure to act.
More importantly, the mask has magnified our polarization. Those who refuse to mask take this stance because of their dedication to America and its freedoms. (This is America! You can’t tell people what to wear!) Conversely, those who support the mask value life over livelihood, implying that those who don’t support the mask would gladly see everybody die.
And then there are the compliant mask-folk who speak in the most heartfelt way about protecting others. Wearing a mask when you’re in a public place isn’t that much to ask in view of what would happen if we all went around spitting on each other. To them the mask represents concern for their fellow humans. Typically, these people have fallen in love with their masks. For instance, this morning, on the broad tree-lined streets of Marble Falls, I saw a woman out walking by herself with a mask on. We have had no new cases of the virus since May the twelfth. In my completely baseless, yet not completely clueless, opinion, if she were to forego the mask during her morning constitutional, there’s zero chance that she’d be exposing herself to the virus; nor would she be spreading it to someone else.
On the other hand, considering the suspicion that always accompanies fear, I wouldn’t be surprised if that woman out walking in her mask was doing so, not because she was afraid of the virus, but because she was scared that if she didn’t wear it someone driving by would throw rocks at her. To me, what’s most disturbing about all of this is that the panic found in areas where the virus has penetrated has ended up as a horrifying presence in our sleepy little area of the country where the virus is no more significant than an ant bite on a pinky toe.
Here, in the grocery store, the workers are wisely taking care of themselves. Of the customers, some wear masks and some don’t. The people who do don’t glare with nasty judgment at the people who don’t because everybody understands that it seems stupid to wear a mask when you feel fine. I know, I know—it can be asymptomatic; but some people aren’t as quick to adjust as others, and our more stubborn ilk believes that if you don’t feel sick, you’re most likely not sick. Mainly, though, the virus simply isn’t here. But by golly when it does come, the masks are going to be ready.
Stylistically speaking, the coverings are an illuminating entity. The people who don them make choices, and these choices reveal as much about who they are as their bares face would, possibly even more so. Gas masks, painters’ masks, masks made from socks and bras—it’s fun. I saw one made of sweatbands fastened together with old-fashioned diaper pins. The most hilarious gear I’ve come across so far was a woman wearing a full plastic coverall that was snapped up the front all the way to her chin and tucked beneath a mouth-and-nose mask that hooked behind her ears, with a dive mask over that, and one of those plastic face shields extending down from her head—which of course got caught on the dive mask; and a rain hat perched on top of the whole shebang. And what, through this outfit, was she telling the world about herself? I’m pretty sure her thinking was that when her fellow humans are falling dead all around her, she’s going to be the last one standing.
Overall, I’d say that the compliant folk are proving to be more adaptable, which is by all accounts a good thing to be. You may not be scared, but chances are your neighbor is. You may think all this is silly, but an empathetic person caters to another’s fears. Also, bluntly put, the choice is quickly morphing into one between complying and becoming a pariah. Honestly, I’ve got the masks but don’t feel the need to wear them at this time. In my world, sense rules the day.
This is my face cover of choice—lightweight and comfortable. Not sure how much protection it provides for others or for myself.
