Reframing facemasks as tools to balance individualism and social responsibility

Disruptions

We Asian Americans are such an odd minority group. Considered a “model” minority, we have high levels of educational accomplishment, income, and health outcomes. Considering that the majority of Asian Americans are recent immigrants, excellent health, assets, and “hardiness” seem to be just necessary conditions to pass the high bar set by immigration and naturalization policies in the US.

At the same time. Asians are considered to be the perpetual foreigners. Being Asian American in the U.S. can be a very isolating experience. Because of the relatively small numbers, we often find ourselves the “only Asian” in the classroom, work group, and town.

Growing up as a woman with a disability in South Korea, I can count many incidents when I was subjected to sexism and ableism. Since I received my doctorate from an Ivy-League university, my competency has been seldom questioned. I have learned how to advocate for myself as well.

Having grown up in an ethnically homogenous culture, I was not exposed to racism until I came to the US to attend graduate school. My efforts and strategies to overcome yet another type of oppression have completely failed. That is how I learned that the social construction of racism in the US is the worst type of oppression, and that I would not be able to “overcome” it in my lifetime.

A few years ago on a Saturday, I was at the crosswalk waiting for the traffic signal to walk across to our university campus. A College football game was scheduled that afternoon. A young White man (likely to be one of our students) approached to me and started to harass me. I could smell alcohol on his breath. The feminist and multicultural educator in me wanted to use this as a perfect teaching moment. However, he was one and a half feet taller and perhaps stronger than me. He continued harassing me “Do you speak English?” “Go back to China.” To ensure my safety, all I could do was not react and run away as soon as I got walk signal.

Later that day I filed the police report. Nevertheless, I did not have any information about this young man. I often reflect on what I could have done differently in that particular situation. Unfortunately, I cannot think of any option other than to avoid that risky situation. No point in reasoning with a drunken man.

In my social work classes, I show photos of people coming from diverse backgrounds. Then I posed a question “What is your first impression when this person walks into your office? “What would it be like for you to engage with this particular client?” My social work students know how to respond with cultural sensitivity.

Yet, there was one image with which most students had a hard time; it was a photo of a woman covered with a niqab and facemask. Her striking eyes were the only body part shown. I remember a student who said aloud, “I cannot work with a person when I do not see their face.” I explained about the origin of the facemask, introduced as a sartorial expression and fashion statement to demarcate public and private space during the early part of the 20th century. Wearing it moves beyond a polite expression of making sure that you are not going to in infect somebody with your germs. In spite of my pedagogical effort to help her to understand the cultural context, it did not address the student’s reaction to feeling uncomfortable. As an outsider looking in, this was a moment of culture shock for me to perceive the animosity toward masks in the dominant US culture.

I had been attuned to the COVID-19 outbreak in China and South Korea in January. I started wearing facemasks whenever I went to public places such as the light rail, campus, and grocery stores. It was not difficult to notice that people were avoiding me. Fortunately, I was not targeted by name-calling and harassment at this particular period. Obviously, there had been increasing incidents of hate crimes and xenophobia targeted at Asian Americans in other areas during this period (Zhouli, 2020). In one instance, an Asian American doctor on his way to work was told to “go back to f****** China.”

It was extremely frightening to be treated as if I were a carrier of the virus. I wanted to say those who were avoiding me, ‘The reason I wear this mask is to protect you, as much as me. Do you know how many lives are saved because almost everybody wears facemasks in South Korea, Taiwan, and Hong Kong? The Public was educated to wear N-95 masks everywhere even with their family.’ However, in this culture where fear of the stranger is rampant, my prosocial behavior of wearing masks in the early stage of this outbreak was not rewarded at all.

Distractions

This pandemic was predicted by scientists. For many of us, who never heard the experts’ warnings, it is only in hindsight we realize that, in this era of globalization, a pandemic of this scale was inevitable. The question was not if, but when and how. In spite of enough warning signs, when the world’s richest, strongest country was finally tested by COVID-19, it completely failed. The CDC was unable to play the role of control tower. The White House had already become a ghost town of scientific expertise (Yong, 2020).

Americans received mixed messages about getting tested and wearing masks for several weeks, even though shelter in place had been ordered in most parts of the country. I could not believe my ears when we were told by public messaging, “if you are sick, stay home; do not go to a hospital.” What kind of country is that?

During uncertainty, we strive to regain a sense of control. Hoarding provides such a sense, as people feel that they are proactively addressing the threat. Toilet paper becomes the focal point of our anxiety instead of masks and personal protective equipment (PPE). Some nonessential items like guns and hard liquor become hot items.

The US, which produces tanks and space shuttles, continues to experience a dramatic shortage of masks and PPE. Stockpiles are already so low that healthcare professionals are reusing masks, calling for donations, or sewing their own homemade masks. These shortages are happening because medical supplies are made-to-order and depend on international supply chains (Yong, 2020). Unfortunately, Hubei, China, the epicenter of the pandemic, was a manufacturing hub of N-95 masks. Lombardy, Italy, is the hub of the largest manufacturers of nasopharyngeal swabs, the essential ingredient of the COVID testing kids.

Many governments are moving toward protective measures such as closing borders and adopting more authoritarian stands. Global trade will become protectionist, feeding into nationalism (Torelli, 2020). We may develop tendencies to conform to the norm and favor the familiar, such as products, brands, events, and locations. We may be less likely to taste ethnic food and travel to exotic place to broaden our horizons in the near future.

Ironically, pandemics can be democratizing experiences. Some global leaders and celebrities with privilege and power are encountering positive testing, quarantines, and bereavement. “#WeAreInThisTogether.” Indeed, “we are all in this together, by ourselves,” as Lilly Tomlin said. Whether we feel surrounded by death or are untouched by it right now depends on social determinants of health, such as our race, age, occupation, and geography.

Obviously, we notice the racial disproportionality signified by this pandemic. African American communities mourn the death of loves ones more than any other race. Undocumented Latinx workers, who are more likely to take the jobs that most Americans do not want, are not eligible for federal stimulus checks and any public assistance. Asian Americans are suffering racist insults, fueled by the White House who labeled the new coronavirus the “Chinese virus.” Emotional wounds exposed by the coronavirus may not heal until long after the virus’ threat has been mitigated. In the post-COVID-19 era, I am afraid the spread of racism will accompany a tsunami of xenophobia, which is already woven into the fabric of American life.

Low-income families who already have members with chronic health conditions are hardest-hit by risks of severe infections. Furthermore, this crisis has illuminated the digital divide. Older adults in assisted living facilities, who are already excluded from much of social life, are being asked to distance themselves even further, deepening their loneliness. Many die alone separated from their family and friends.

Are social distancing restrictions unconstitutional? In East Asian countries, often characterized as hierarchical collectivistic societies, conformity to norms is more prevalent. During the pandemic, such tendency to conformity may be more efficient for weathering the storm. Due to the dire circumstances, facial masks were rationed to each citizen via pharmacies, which my Korean friend called a “socialism experiment.” In spite of the initial chaos, most citizens follow the rules and adapt to new customs.

Individualism in the U.S., on the contrary, is associated with non-conformity, freedom of speech, and privacy concerns. As a result, it appears to be harder for Americans to embrace all the restrictive measures that slow down the spread of the virus such as shelter in place and wearing facemasks. Many of those who protest for reopening and their “constitutional rights” bring their guns, and rarely wear facemasks.

This pandemic raised many question for me. If White young adults were disproportionally affected by this disease, would we have such a strong urge to open up the economy so quickly? Would we be more likely to have different reactions? Is democracy, the best political system yet to be known to humankind, an inefficient system during the pandemic?

In recent years, science has taught us about the harmful impact of social isolation on our health outcomes. Will divorce rates increase after this pandemic? Will we be reluctant to re-engage in kisses, hugs, and handshakes? Will our custom of expressing affection be gone for good in order to keep a six-feet distance from one another? We are forced to make many changes in our habits for better or for worse. What else will be our new normal?

Discoveries

Because I am from a culture that believes that crisis always provides opportunities for new businesses, I am searching for its meaning. I want to look back at 2020 as a time of transition and renewed sense of connectedness. I look forward to some of the social changes that this pandemic can catalyze.

I am legally blind. In this automobile-oriented culture, what I struggle with most in daily life is mobility impairment rather than my visual impairment. During the lockdown period, empty roads become fertile ground for experimenting with driverless automobiles. I look forward to seeing technological breakthrough in the near future for driverless cars, which will provide remarkable freedom in my life.

Higher education institutions have adopted practices that they previously procrastinated about, including working from home and online instruction to accommodate people with disabilities. Yet, little is known about how online education poses challenges and opportunities. I started a new research project to examine the efficacy of online education for students with various types of disabilities.

There is no doubt that our healthcare workers are heroes. However, we need to acknowledge our unsung heroes such as workers in nursing homes, grocery stores, warehouses, delivery services, and meat-packing factories, where immigrant and undocumented workers are overrepresented. I hope that this crisis will extend the opportunity to establish proper sick leave, flexible child-care arrangements, and fair labor practices for these unsung heroes.

On the global level, we witnessed several pieces of unexpected good news. Civil wars were stopped in Syria during the pandemic. Since factories in China are not in operation, air pollution has significantly decreased. Clear blue skies are showing in New Delhi. Wildlife is thriving in national parks in the US. We hear bird songs everywhere this spring. We need to rethink how we use our environment to protect biodiversity. We need to establish stronger policy to prohibit wildlife trades and promote clean energy.

This pandemic revealed that female leadership has presented an attractive alternative form of wielding power. From Germany to New Zealand and Denmark to Taiwan, women have managed the coronavirus crisis with great efficiency. Plenty of countries with male leaders have also done well. However, few with female leaders have done badly (Henley and Roy, 2020).

These female leaders listened to scientists, held no-nonsense press conference, oversaw a “test, trace, contain” strategy, and communicated physical distancing messages demonstrating empathy and decisiveness. Their actions are in stark contrast to strongmen using the crisis to accelerate a terrifying display of authoritarianism: pointing fingers, and blaming “others,” (e.g., U. S., Brazil, Russia, India, Philippine, etc.). I hope that this global crisis helps us to be more open-minded about welcoming different kinds of leadership.

In my Foundations of Social Welfare class, I lead a discussion on whether the framers of the Constitution intended for social policy to fall within the province of state and local government. A majority of students favor the federal government having limited powers in developing social policies. I expect that we will have more thoughtful and serious debates in the fall.

US history shows that bold, innovative and dramatic social policies (i.e. mother’s pension, G. I. Bills, and workers’ compensation) were established only after unprecedented crisis. Recently, we have witnessed some unusual events. Governors are standing together to demand federal support for Medicaid expansion. We realize the high price to pay due to wealth inequality and health disparities in this country. Because of the fluidity of this unprecedented pandemic and willingness of the American public to accept massive social changes, we may be able to entertain such bold idea as “basic income,” “Medicare for All,” and initiatives to bridge the digital divide.

As an immigrant, I have high hopes and dreams for my adopted country. The U.S. should lead a new global partnership focused on solving challenges like pandemics and climate change. More than anything else, this pandemic has taught us how interconnected we are. The principles of “America First” and American exceptionalism have proven to be inefficient strategies in this era of new normal. Public health should be the centerpiece of national security.

As security searches at the airport became the norm after 911, handwashing for 20 seconds 10 times per day, coughing into your elbow, and wearing facemasks will be our new normal. Just like how we advanced safe sex behaviors following the HIV epidemic, there are many lessons to be learned.

Particularly, wearing facemasks should not be a fashion statement to reveal your political stance; a mask ruins one’s fashionable look, anyway. In the post COVID-19 era, facemasks are not a symbol of oppression and subjugation. We need to reframe facemasks as social responsibility and etiquette to protect public health. No matter how inconvenient it is, our new custom of wearing facemasks will provide a perfect learning opportunity of balancing individual freedom and social responsibility.