To the anti-masking parents in my Facebook feed,
I am an educator. And I’ve been listening to you for awhile now. You’re tired. I get it. You’re angry. I get that too. But it wasn’t until the statewide student mask mandate that your rage fully unfurled.
Now, you’re storming city meetings because you’ve had enough of the government taking away your rights. You say masked children can’t get enough oxygen. Their parents won’t wash them so kids will be swimming in bacterial infections. And incredibly, masks are more harmful than the virus. (Yep, you totally said that, too). Never mind that surgeons wear masks all day every day. Never mind that parents wash their kids’ underwear, socks, and lunchboxes, so why not masks?
I hear your frustration though. These are our children. For better or worse, we do our best to control for idyllic childhoods, demanding more for them than any previous generation of parents. But here’s the rub: no matter how hard we try, we cannot control for Mother Nature’s most brutal acts of defiance. Sometimes, she foils even our best-laid plans.
When a post popped into my news feed a few weeks ago, my frustration with this conversation bubbled into something akin to despair. It was from a Utah mother, requesting prayers for her child’s beloved elementary school principal who had been life-flighted due to complications from the virus.
I ask you, anti-masking parents, if you win this fight, how many of our teachers are we going to lose before you change your mind? How will you feel if your child’s bus driver dies? How might you feel if your elderly parent was the librarian or lunch attendant?
The statistics tell us an important story: Countries that require masks fare far better than those that don’t. Taiwan, an island jam-packed with 23 million people just a stone’s throw from China, stockpiled masks and other supplies right from the start. We did not. And while we have accumulated 149,000 deaths in just four months, Taiwan has seven. No, that’s not a misprint. Seven. Single digits. You’ve told me that comparison is apples to oranges, but I’m telling you, I only see fruit.
If I’m being honest, what scares me most about the anti-mask fervor is your general distrust for institutions that hold society accountable. You don’t trust mainstream media, a term most of us didn’t give much thought before 2016. Back then, we mostly trusted the profession to investigate and report. They went to school for it, after all, and they’ve committed to ethical standards. But these days, you believe that the vast majority of the 33,000 U.S. journalists at 1,400 papers are lying to the masses.
This distrust has now seeped into science. You do not trust most doctors and epidemiologists, about this disease. Never mind they’ve spent their careers studying illness. Never mind they took an oath to do no harm.
You say politics have divided us in a way that is unprecedented. I used to agree. But lately, calling it politics feels like minimization on the grandest of scales. When hundreds of former Bush administration officials endorsed Joe Biden in an effort to “restore the soul of this nation,” I felt something click. This isn’t about politics anymore. Our country is at risk of losing its soul.
Last week, when President Trump threatened the tax-exempt status of universities if they continue the “propaganda” of “radical left indoctrination,” I felt my heart sink like a rock. Like usual, his comments were met with initial scoffs and eye-rolls. But if history really does repeat itself, the talking heads who sound a lot smarter than he does will begin rolling it over the airwaves in bits and pieces. And before long, Trump’s claims will no longer sound like the ramblings of the crazy relative you brush off at family reunions.
Is higher education the next victim of citizen distrust? If so, may God help us all.
You have said we have to get on with life. I agree. We can’t stay home forever, or even until the pandemic is over. But we are not spoiled children. We cannot wish this virus away or pretend it doesn’t exist. And we most definitely cannot have our cake and eat it, too. If we want to resume our in-person interactions, we have to protect each other. And I’m willing to bet the children, grandchildren and friends of the 149,000 victims would agree.
You keep asking, “When will this end?” It will end when there is a vaccine. And, no, you don’t have to remind me you will not be getting the vaccine. I already know. So maybe I should say this will end when enough of the rest of us get the vaccine so that you and your family can be safe, alongside ours.
I close my note with a question: What if you’re wrong? The way I see it, if scientists are wrong about masks, the worst case is some dreaded infections from dirty masks. Historically, kids have endured far worse in times of calamity.
But if you’re wrong, the consequences are a matter of life, and unfortunately, death. So please, can we call it quits with the tantrums and have some faith in our kids? I have a feeling they’ll surprise us.
Jamie Belnap
Jamie Belnap is a high school counselor. She lives in the Heber Valley with her husband and four children.
