September 7, 2020
The first time I wore a mask with fidelity was early in April. I was helping package meals for children over Spring Break. All of us who packed and distributed the meals wore them and were thankful for friends who were sewing up a storm to keep others safe. One morning after volunteering, I had to go to the grocery store. My mask was secured, and since I was unsure of how full the shelves would be, I was ready to tackle the store with creativity and an open mind. What I wasn't ready for, however, was the feeling I got when I realized others couldn't see me smile. I wondered if those I greeted could hear the smile in my voice or see the twinkle in my eyes. I remember being really troubled, but also thinking the masks were temporary. Never did I ever think we would still be wearing them in September!
Nearly six months later, I've become accustomed to the masks. My family has a large supply of them, and we each definitely have our favorites. There is a clean basket ready for perusal, and there is a dedicated dirty mask basket in the laundry room. We each have extras in our cars, desks, and backpacks. We are willing and ready to do our part to stop the spread of COVID-19. I am not ashamed to admit that I'm sufficiently annoyed when other people don't wear them or they wear them incorrectly. Those I encounter not wearing them make me incredibly uncomfortable, and I have to remind myself that I am only in control of my actions.
Recently my daughter and I went shopping for the perfect outfits for her senior pictures and the first day of school. On that particular day, I was feeling emotional. I'd like to say that the emotions were driven by nostalgia and the impending sense of loss at this being her last year of high school, but that was not all of it. I was thinking about masks, and I realized that people have always worn masks. The masks just haven't always been visible. More and more, I find myself in turmoil about the invisible masks that people wear and the ways in which I see people ripping them off.
The unrest in our country is really unsettling. For far too long, we have worn those invisible masks and not talked about what was on our minds. Controversial conversations have not always been considered appropriate, and they make people feel anxious and uncomfortable. With the rise in technology, it seems to me that many people seem to have lost the ability to communicate in a way in which others feel supported and heard, even if there is a difference of opinion. Instead of actually talking, more and more people are turning to social media as a tool for saying anything and everything. Social media posts are, for some, a way of ripping off the mask and sharing thoughts and feelings that otherwise would have been hidden. For others, the posts seem to be a way to lash out and say hurtful things that would, in all likelihood, not be said aloud.
Over the summer, I participated in a book study dealing with racism. We read fiction and nonfiction books, and I thoroughly enjoyed the discussions we had. One of the books contained some things that made me, as a white woman raised in the south, question myself. Rather than letting my worries get the best of me, I reached out to two good black friends from high school to ask their opinions. As always, we had good conversations, and I walked away feeling grateful for their insight the way we can be open and honest with each other. We've never masked our feelings with each other, and I do not think we ever will.
Throughout the summer, I've read many posts about school. When it comes to education, it seems like there are no metaphorical masks. There are so many opinions, and I believe everyone has a right to their own opinion. What I don't believe everyone has a right to do is to be judgmental. We all deserve grace, and there is not one of us who is perfect. This is another time when I must remind myself that I am only in control of myself. I am thankful for the opportunity to teach in the building with my students. I am extremely grateful that my children will be in their school buildings as well. I know that their teachers are going to do everything in their power to make this school year a phenomenal one.
Because education is my calling, I have committed to being the best I can be for my students and their families each and every day. I will don my mask and adapt lessons and my classroom to fit the guidelines set for us this year. The physical mask, however, is the only one I will wear with my students. My hope is that they, too, feel comfortable taking off their metaphorical masks when they are with me. I promise to love them and to truly listen to them. I want them to always feel heard. When they have questions, I will answer them openly and honestly. When their questions get tricky and go beyond what I am able to answer, I will seek out people and resources to help find the answers they deserve. By listening, loving, and learning, we will make our impact on the world this school year. Years from now, I pray they reflect on the year with a warm heart and a twinkle in their eyes. I know I will.