Beneath the creative use of fabric from aprons, t-shirts, bandanas, and bandeaus to make DIY masks, and with cottage industries popping up to provide face masks during this 2020 Covid-19 Pandemic; there is the deeper issue of the emotional maturity it takes to consistently wear one. Wearing face masks and showing other humans love has to do with personal growth and emotional intelligence. It’s a growth process.

This is my story.

In the beginning, weeks ago, I was self-conscious about it. Wearing a face mask felt undignified. I wondered if people would laugh at me or be derisive. It was early in the spread of the virus. I might find myself the only one wearing a mask out there. I’d busted through the social discomfort of wearing gloves pretty easily, especially when I saw grocery clerks wearing them. Donning the face mask was harder.

I have a lot of colorful bandannas on hand. I use them to tie up my unruly curly hair when I just don’t feel like taking the time to fix it. So I began there with the face mask. I’d call forth courage and venture out in public looking like an Old West bank robber! Looking like an Old West bank robber with a penchant for purple and baby blue bandannas that is! No one laughed at me and, better yet, my husband’s response was, “I like it!” Even so, once I figured out how to make one using two elastic hair bands with a bandanna, it got a little easier. I was able to create something that looked closer to the real thing but colorful.

With time and being consistent about wearing them, feeling embarrassed about wearing a face mask has diminished but still lingers. The next issue is eye contact with others.

How can we manage if we can’t see each other smile?

My eyes naturally sparkle when I smile. So I’ve noticed that when I smile at people while wearing the mask, I can feel my eyes twinkle even more. It seems it’s impulsive, to make up for the fact that people can’t see me smile at them. I think it makes a difference. I’ve noticed other people’s eyes sparkling in return.

Sometimes, though, I find it easier to avoid eye contact because there’s a natural shyness and sort of feeling invisible while wearing the mask. To avoid eye contact turns down the feelings of insecurity and embarrassment. 

I’ve noticed too that when I feel shy and avoid eye contact it sometimes has to do with protecting my own and others’ dignity. For instance, in the beginning of the mask wearing, some people’s eyes revealed how scared and self-conscious they felt. I took to glancing at people in case they wanted some measure of human connection but avoided too much eye contact to protect their dignity. I think this is what led to giving my natural sparkle extra oomph to communicate, “It’s going to be all right.” Wearing face masks and showing other humans love got a little easier.

With some, it’s harder.

Currently, around people wearing no protection I tend to avoid eye contact with them. Their lack of protection suggests they’re giving the virus and caring for others the finger. I don’t know that this is true. But for what’s in the news these days, it might be true. Not only in terms of contagion, but in a social sense they seem unsafe to me and so I don’t want to invite them into my physical, mental, or emotional space.

And then there are those I very much want to help protect.

One day a teenage girl at the post office struggled to manage her address change. She had her bandanna on like a bank robber and yet, clearly nervous and insecure, she sounded so young and fragile that I wanted to scoop her up and take care of her! More than social distancing kept me from doing just that.

While she was at the counter, I was several people deep in line with all of us six feet apart. The clerk was kind in how he spoke to her as he gave her the paperwork she needed to fill out. My heart hurt for the vulnerability she couldn’t hide, even behind her mask.

When it was my turn, she’d finished her paper work and didn’t know what to do next. It was hard for her to get the clerk’s attention through the plastic veil draped from ceiling to counter top that was protecting him. Since I had my eyes on her, she looked at me in confusion as to which of us should go next. I smiled real big beneath my mask, making my eyes twinkle extra much, and said, “Yes, you go now. You stepped aside to fill out paper work so that means when you’re done, you get to step back up to the counter.”

I softly added, “I think that’s how it works,” to not sound quite so self-assured, to hide my mama bear instincts, and to protect her dignity.

She nodded and took her paper work to the counter. When she turned to leave she looked at me, those doe shaped eyes big and round, vulnerability and youth exposed. Because she couldn’t see my smile, I was extra sparkly with my eyes and gave her a little wave of my hand. Then her eyes sparkled as she waved back.

I said, “Have a good day.” She nodded as if to wish me the same.

It was then I was convinced we humans can see each other smile while wearing whatever kind of mask we have on. We can smile with our eyes and with the tones and warmth of our voices and laughter – communicating welcome, concern, camaraderie, compassion, empathy, and love with our eyes and our vocal chords.

Wearing face masks and showing other humans love works on many levels.

We protect ourselves and each other while showing love and respect with our choice to wear the mask, our twinkling eyes, and the warmth of our voices. And if we speak with someone that needs to read our lips to be able to understand us, we can “sparkle” and put 6 feet between the pair of us before safely lowering the mask to connect and communicate.

We can do this. We can be resilient and thoughtful and meticulous, so that we do no harm.

It’s going to be all right.