To face mask, or not to face mask? In the eyes of shielders like myself, there is no question.
Rewind the clock to July 24th, 2020. After weeks of uncertainty, the UK government finally decided to make face masks mandatory in enclosed public spaces, including shops and supermarkets. A week later, they were enforceable by law.
Many questioned why it had taken this long, considering the country is now slowly coming out of its lockdown. The delay left members of the public confused. “After all,” they say, “if masks were helpful, surely it should have been the advice from the start?“
While the politicians, scientists and Tesco’s maskqueteers argue over their usefulness, I have made my own judgment. Face masks are sensory hell for autistic people like myself. My glasses steam up constantly. They make you feel hot and sticky, especially in the UK’s recent, dastardly 30C heat. A stream of acne (or “mascne?”) has appeared around my mouth, reminding me of those embarrassing teenage years, and the idea of masks alone remind me of all the dystopian novels I love to hate.
Nevertheless, I wear my face mask whenever I can.
Many mask-rejecting friends ask, “why are you following the herd?“
In scenarios like these, I have to follow my principles. Wearing my mask is inconvenient. Still, in the grand scheme of things, putting on a face mask is not a heavy burden. After all, in the age of an undeniable, worldwide pandemic, even the smallest act of kindness counts.
I’ve heard many theories. ‘It’s just a virus’. ‘It’s only a flu’. ‘It’s all part of Bill Gate’s alien invasion plan’. ‘It only kills the vulnerable, you’ve got nothing to worry about.’
Covid-19 does not ‘only kill the vulnerable’. Even if it did, the ‘vulnerable’ includes my mother. ‘Vulnerable’ includes my best friend, her husband, and her mother. Worst of all, it potentially includes my partner, a cancer survivor with learning disabilities who wouldn’t understand why he’s in hospital.
Wearing my mask reflects my personal decision to take a chance on something which may prevent the spread of disease. As the weeks went on, I started to appreciate the benefits of face masks. There’s a silent joy in having to smile at everyone, and not having to worry about misreading other people’s emotions. Wearing a mask means I don’t owe the world excuses, and nor does anyone owe one to me.
Personal boundaries and personal space have never been more important during the pandemic.
For instance, I took my first steps onto my high street around a week ago to pick up some fish. No sooner I put my purse away in my bag, another woman – a stranger – is centimetres away from my face, reaching for my ears with a bouncing smile. She almost coos at me.
She says. “Oh, love, don’t be so silly. It’s only a virus, we have to get on with things, and you don’t have to wear that here. Nobody’s died here.”
I know this woman is trying to be kind. Still, the jump comes out of bafflement more than Covid-19 fear. Short of three hundred people have died on my side of the Mersey. That’s hardly ‘nobody’.
Even before the pandemic, social distancing was a gesture practised in British society. We treasure personal space. I memorised my Picture Exchange Communication Cards (PECCS) cards well; always stand back about a metre. Give people room to breathe.
As the days pass, I catch myself looking at those around me. Bafflingly, those who did wear a mask seemed to prop it under their chin. Others even hung it from their ears, or even wore it as a necklace.
I silently ponder: are they the secret immune? Do these people breathe through gills, like one of the X-Men from days past?
Abusing shop workers is not acceptable, either.
Speaking to cashiers and shop owners, many have told me tales of the mask rejectors. Those who swagger into the stores, plastered with a victorious expression. Some thrive on drama and perceived small “acts of rebellion.”
For some shop workers, the refusal to wear a mask has led to a flurry of abuse. Last week, the Co-op reported a sharp rise of physical and verbal violence from customers, There are even concerns about the impending mental health crisis amongst frontline workers.
Let’s be frank: the UK government’s conflicting advice has not been helpful. Nobody knows what is right, and what is wrong. Nevertheless. any help – no matter how small – might make tomorrow’s world a better place.
Why are people so up in arms about face masks? Poor education? Lack of awareness? Being a grot bag solely for the sake of it?
We all want our “old normal” back. Of course, not everyone can wear masks. Still, why do so many refuse to place a small piece of fabric on their face, claiming it’s all a big conspiracy?
I don’t get it. Honestly, I don’t. Surely a few minutes of sweaty, acne inducing inconvenience is better than tens of thousands more deaths come December?
For me, the answer’s simple.
I will wear my mask until it is no longer necessary for me to do so, regardless of how silly I may look. Bleat at me if you dare. To my mind, it is better to do something than do absolutely nothing.
Nobody likes face masks. They’re horrible things. All the same, whatever discomfort I feel is minuscule in comparison to the idea of my partner having a ventilator shoved down his throat. That is why I believe face masks are a necessary evil.
So to any of you out there who refuse to wear a mask for ideological reasons, I respect your decision. Best of luck – and the very best of health to you. Because, who knows?
In the end, both of us may need a mask.
April Ryan
Tweet to @April_L_Ryan
Feature image by Anna Shvets from Pexels, and article photo by Annie Spratt from Unsplash.