It’s Okay To Hold On To Your Mask For A While – It Can Really Only Help You

With three COVID-19 vaccines making their way steadily through the country, states are hustling to open up and get the public back to the office (and to the mall). As of today, two states require everyone to wear masks, 15 states require unvaccinated people to wear masks, and 35 states do not require anyone to wear masks – including Wisconsin. 

The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention announced in May that vaccinated people can resume normal activities without social distancing or masks. I can’t be the only one that blinked at that! Just last week, I was flagging down a rushed customer at Whole Foods with a blue disposable mask in one hand and a sign that said “Masks Required” in the other. Now they are saying he can pick up oranges and a six pack bare-faced? 

We considerate people trusted the CDC completely when they told us that masks save lives, so are we wrong to keep wearing them long after the powers-that-be say we can take them off? 

The short answer is no: It is your body, so it is your choice, as long as that choice does not put anyone else in harm’s way. Plus, wearing a mask can only help our overall health (When was the last time you had a cold?), so, you do you! 

The long answer is, expectedly, more complicated. 

Cases and deaths are continuing to trend downward, aside from a relatively minor uptick following Memorial Day. According to the CDC, the current 7-Day average for new cases is around 13,000, which is still a lot, but is down 6% from the previous week. 

Don’t throw those masks out yet – the rate at which Americans are getting vaccinated is also on the decline. We hit our peak in April, vaccinating more than 3 million in a week, but just two months later are clocking in less than 1 million shots per week.

Nevertheless, a promising 42% of the country is fully vaccinated. But, again, 58% isn’t – whether they don’t have access or just don’t want to. 

Black and Hispanic/Latinx people make up just 30% of the population, yet account for more than 40% of COVID-19 cases. Despite this obvious disparity, the same group accounts for just 21% of fully vaccinated people. 

Why aren’t we vaccinating those who are most vulnerable? Health care disparities, distrust of the government, and other factors block these people from getting their shots. 

So maybe it isn’t quite time to upcycle my mask collection or swap my sweat pants for party pants, and that’s okay. Believe me – I want things to go back to normal just as badly as the next person, and the doom and gloom of disparities in health and safety are upsetting for sure, but I’m starting to think I don’t really know what ‘normal’ looks like anymore. 

Pandemic trauma is real. I find myself completely forgetting to count the entirety of the last year when recounting things that happened pre-pandemic. I have vague memories of shaving my head and making bread in my comically small kitchen, and losing a job (or was it two jobs?) at some point. Other than that, I can’t even remember which classes I took last semester or the semester before. 

I work at Whole Foods now, a choice I made begrudgingly because a corporate job seemed more secure, and on June 3 I tried to go in unmasked, as some of my coworkers had been since the mandate was lifted in Milwaukee. 

As I walked from the front entrance along the registers, through the freezer section, then past the tofu and yogurts, my heart rate seemed to pick up exponentially. Customers seemed like they were bumping into me constantly, then apologizing so I can almost see the aerisoled saliva spraying from their mouths and into the air I am about to breathe in in order to reply that it’s okay. The lights were suddenly giving off the approximate brightness and heat of tiny suns, and I realized I was sweating. I crashed through the swinging double doors labeled “Team Members Only” with an aggressive push and speed-walked to my locker to dig my mask out of my New Yorker bag. 

My heart was racing for hours after, and a big neon sign was flashing in my head: “YOU ARE GOING TO GIVE THAT CUSTOMER COVID, AND THEY ARE GOING TO DIE.”

Maybe my anxiety is irrational. Or, maybe, it is a symptom of experiencing the mass death and illness of my fellow humans. Plus a market crash. Plus the hyper-politicization. Plus getting COVID myself and thinking I was going to die everytime I felt short of breath walking from my bed to the sink. Plus thinking my family was going to die because so many of them refuse to get vaccinated, or really change their lives at all. 

Maybe our caution is born out of wanting to keep other people safe, and isn’t that sort of nice? 

So, no, you aren’t a radical liberal or irrational for wanting to keep your mask on for a while. You might want therapy, though.