By Mary Jane McKinney
To mask or not to mask? That is the question a lot of people are wrestling with as the coronavirus pandemic in Texas worsens. We as a culture have been here before. Americans have resisted seat belts, helmets, infant car seats, and other safety measures. They have also resented laws prohibiting driving while drunk, buzzed, or high. And for 60 years, Americans have been warned not to use tobacco. Laws now prohibit smoking in public places, but tobacco use persists in spite of overwhelming evidence that it is harmful. Most Americans go along with changes, but there is always a percentage of the population who are slow to comply. Now it’s wearing a protective face mask in a pandemic.
Our village post office is the size of a large walk-in closet. The mail is put up Monday through Saturday by 11 am. After that time, more than 300 residents enter the closet-sized space to get their mail. The daily trip has become dangerous as residents try to social distance. I thought I had the answer to safe mail pickup when I started getting my mail after 7 pm. My plan worked for four weeks until others had the same idea. Now there is a line of cars parked on Main Street between 7 pm and 8 pm. Almost everyone I’ve seen at the late mail pickup is over 60 years old. Nobody wears a mask except me. I’ve got gloves on, too.
The whole idea of the late pickup is to go to the post office when no one else is there, thus eliminating the need for a mask. Why the resistance to masks? We can blame human nature for the reluctance to change. I also think the mask seems so low-tech; primitive; and to some, silly, that a lot of people dismiss its power to make a difference in the pandemic. But masks work to slow the spread of the virus. I heard a reporter in Hong Kong say that not wearing a mask in public is like not wearing clothes. In China, Singapore, South Korea, and other Asian countries, wearing a mask is accepted as a public health requirement and a cultural norm. The root of resistance to masking up in rural Texas may be the fear that the custom will become a cultural norm in the United States.
As the number of coronavirus cases in Texas rises, we will also see an increase in mask-wearing. We’re just putting off the inevitable as long as possible. One of the best things about living in a small town is the feeling of safety. The illusion that the virus won’t come here is just that—an illusion. As more businesses open, we will see more cashiers, clerks, and store managers in masks. We will see more stores requiring customers to wear masks.
As the covid-19 cases increase in my county, I already see more West Texans wearing masks. At first, we had three cases, then 17, then 29, and now 106 cases. The virus is here, and more people will be infected in the next few weeks, especially after the abandonment of social distancing on Memorial Day weekend.
Epidemiologists are calling the spike in cases “the second wave of the first wave.” Texas cases may reach 100,000 at the rate they are going. Eventually, Gov. Abbott will have to follow in the footsteps of Gov. Murphy of New Jersey, who told his citizens to wear masks and stay six feet apart. Exasperated, he finally tweeted, "ATTENTION KNUCKLEHEADS: KEEP A SAFE DISTANCE."
Mary Jane McKinney of Christoval, Texas, writes her "Plain English" column for Texas newspapers.
To mask or not to mask? That is the question a lot of people are wrestling with as the coronavirus pandemic in Texas worsens. We as a culture have been here before. Americans have resisted seat belts, helmets, infant car seats, and other safety measures. They have also resented laws prohibiting driving while drunk, buzzed, or high. And for 60 years, Americans have been warned not to use tobacco. Laws now prohibit smoking in public places, but tobacco use persists in spite of overwhelming evidence that it is harmful. Most Americans go along with changes, but there is always a percentage of the population who are slow to comply. Now it’s wearing a protective face mask in a pandemic.
Our village post office is the size of a large walk-in closet. The mail is put up Monday through Saturday by 11 am. After that time, more than 300 residents enter the closet-sized space to get their mail. The daily trip has become dangerous as residents try to social distance. I thought I had the answer to safe mail pickup when I started getting my mail after 7 pm. My plan worked for four weeks until others had the same idea. Now there is a line of cars parked on Main Street between 7 pm and 8 pm. Almost everyone I’ve seen at the late mail pickup is over 60 years old. Nobody wears a mask except me. I’ve got gloves on, too.
The whole idea of the late pickup is to go to the post office when no one else is there, thus eliminating the need for a mask. Why the resistance to masks? We can blame human nature for the reluctance to change. I also think the mask seems so low-tech; primitive; and to some, silly, that a lot of people dismiss its power to make a difference in the pandemic. But masks work to slow the spread of the virus. I heard a reporter in Hong Kong say that not wearing a mask in public is like not wearing clothes. In China, Singapore, South Korea, and other Asian countries, wearing a mask is accepted as a public health requirement and a cultural norm. The root of resistance to masking up in rural Texas may be the fear that the custom will become a cultural norm in the United States.
As the number of coronavirus cases in Texas rises, we will also see an increase in mask-wearing. We’re just putting off the inevitable as long as possible. One of the best things about living in a small town is the feeling of safety. The illusion that the virus won’t come here is just that—an illusion. As more businesses open, we will see more cashiers, clerks, and store managers in masks. We will see more stores requiring customers to wear masks.
As the covid-19 cases increase in my county, I already see more West Texans wearing masks. At first, we had three cases, then 17, then 29, and now 106 cases. The virus is here, and more people will be infected in the next few weeks, especially after the abandonment of social distancing on Memorial Day weekend.
Epidemiologists are calling the spike in cases “the second wave of the first wave.” Texas cases may reach 100,000 at the rate they are going. Eventually, Gov. Abbott will have to follow in the footsteps of Gov. Murphy of New Jersey, who told his citizens to wear masks and stay six feet apart. Exasperated, he finally tweeted, "ATTENTION KNUCKLEHEADS: KEEP A SAFE DISTANCE."
Mary Jane McKinney of Christoval, Texas, writes her "Plain English" column for Texas newspapers.
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