Anonymous Once Again
Today is June 13th and in two days’ time California will end all Covid restrictions. The end of an era is upon us. This past year plus a few months have seen unfortunate deaths and prolonged disabilities, quarantines, social distancing, mask requirements, remote learning and working, and finally vaccinations by the hordes. During these trials of human endurance a social science observation proved interesting—the figurative unmasking of society. In general, we know that people come in all shapes and sizes, all manner of demeanor, inclinations, and obsessions. We don’t generally know who fits in what category unless they are close friends or family or something in the news “unmasks” a particular individual as a person…, fill in the blank. During Covid, however, we saw plain as day who were the deniers of Covid and who were not, who was willing to abide by the law and who thought they were above it, who was willing to do for others in a society where we all rely on each other for safety and welfare, and who isn’t. We could figure that certain people standing in front of us online somewhere, or someone shouting at a cashier for refusing to ring-up the items in their cart because they were not in compliance with Covid mask rules, were likely listening to certain television channels and reading certain online sites and ascribed to certain political affiliations. You just knew it, plain as day. You might have had the same affiliations but decided differently on the Covid issue and thought the person violating the rules was crazy and an embarrassment to your political party. You might have been with a different political party and still thought the person crazy. Either way, the telling of the persons beliefs and politics were on display.
It used to be that you never knew, you never really knew how someone voted on election day or what their social or financial or political leanings were. You may even have had several conversations with someone, maybe even worked with them on a regular basis, but your discussions focused only on family, travels or the doldrums of the office. You bonded as like-minded individuals and felt like in any other situation—not at work, you’d be buds, best friends, hanging out at his or her house enjoying barbeque weekends. I’ve had many of those, conversations where someone asks the pivotal question, “You’re Republican/Democrat right?” And I straight up tell them, “Nope, I’m the other.” “Wow,” they say, “somehow I kinda thought we were the same.” Ironically, we were. Politics plays very little into what we do for fun, who we choose to befriend or marry, or how we raise our kids. It really is peripheral to our lives. If you don’t ask you might never really know, and it really wouldn’t matter.
Starting in 2015, however, things changed. The political identity of one affiliation proudly displayed their allegiance with a hat that spoke their motto. It was a standard political campaign promise that had been used with little truth or honesty for over a hundred years, in some version or other. It implied that things were better in the past and if we travel back—metaphorically or policy-wise, we can relive those better times. It’s a catchy concept that pulls on the psychological insecurities we all have. Weren’t things better back when? Isn’t our youth always a time of Camelot? The concept works as a campaign slogan which is why it’s been around for a long time. That it was polished off and pushed back on stage is no surprise, we would have heard it from some campaign sooner or later. In 2015, the political landscape was quite inflammatory from the beginning of the primaries right through to the general election. The hat with the motto identified who your guy was and it became a symbol that made its way on to flags, posters, shirts, billboards, and anything else you can put four letters on. We knew what you stood for, and in an election cycle that grew acrimonious, just the hat alone drew boundaries of inclusion or exclusion. People lost the intimacy of family and friends, the workplace became a battle ground, not of work related opinions but of disaffection and hostility.
Covid entered the scene and compliance with CDC guidelines⏤to mask or not to mask, added to or replaced the hat wearing campaign. Along the way, two things happened, a presidency was lost and vaccines were found. Gone are the hats and the need for masks. But people haven’t changed, you just can’t tell who they are. They’re anonymous once again.
The other day my daughter stood in line at a grocery store and noticed once the lady in front of her got to the cashier and turned sideways, that she wasn’t wearing a mask. She sent me a photo. “Look Dad, a…,” fill in the blank. My daughter knew. In the last days of Covid compliance, the ones who were forced to comply for fear of no-service or arrest, are now flaunting one last fling of defiance. “Bedamned Covid, the law, and grocery workers. I don’t care,” is what the lady was really saying. A calculated risk, of course. The store manager could have made an example of her, but her cowardice saved her. She wouldn’t have done what she did two weeks ago, she would have complied out of fear of arrest. Now, with just a few days to go, she’s flaunting her contempt, hoping people will see her protest of identity. She could have simply worn a hat.
© Eric Clark 06/13/2021
Photo by: Natilyn Hicks @ Unsplash
