Sunday, June 14, 2020

Walk the Walk

It is not museums or concerts. It is not leisurely crosstown busses, sunset skylines or even reasonably priced excellent restaurants. It is certainly not crowds or subways, or crowded subways.

What I have missed most during the pandemic is walking. But I am not just talking about the biomechanical act of bipedalism. I mean walking with an unstoppable, get-away-from-me-I-am-going-somewhere-without-you, purpose: towards an imaginary anywhere, but via, everywhere.

Although walking through New York is a “hike in the woods” of sorts; it is not a hike in the woods. It is not a stroll around the suburban block to peek at the neighbor’s yard. It is more like hopscotch than it is like a treadmill. It is dodging and weaving: over sidewalk irregularities, under scaffolding, avoiding cyclists wooshing by. It is safe until suddenly, it isn’t really, but then quickly, it is again.

It is a series of darkened circles of old gum atop the intermittent glitter of concrete. Who chews so much gum? It is the mini rush of relief after I avoid stepping in something. It is a little past life so gone and dried that I can’t tell if it was a mammal or a bird: 300 million years of evolution flattened into an indiscernible urban pancake. Poor thing.

I did not grow up in New York City. I got my driver’s license at sixteen in the suburbs. But I was always an anxious driver. My mother was also anxious, especially in snow, and my father was sexist. So driving was a much bigger drama than it had to be, and I felt trapped. Thankfully, I was surrounded by a group of independent young women friends and they drove me everywhere. I was a B+ front seat companion. I talked too much and if I was supposed to navigate we were 100% going to be lost. But we would be laughing. 

Coming from this suburban situation, walking in NYC was downright practical. But it was also a rebellion. I didn’t need to pump gas and I didn’t need anyone’s fucking help. I walked so the anxiety, the sexism and the horrendous sense of direction were behind me. But it gave me more than just a means of getting around. It calmed me down, I saw things, I felt full of purpose and strong. Walking in NYC is a smorgasbord of people-watching but also – a flagrant spree of ignoring everyone. It is Mary Tyler Moore, and it is environmentally green. But mostly, it opened my mind to the thought landscapes you cannot access while sitting around — probably via endorphins disguised as hope. 

I am certainly not the first human to celebrate walking. In fact, walking is perhaps the oldest human story out there. Poets, writers, artists, scientists and philosophers have been living and breathing the secrets of walking for centuries. And our hominin ancestors have been walking on two legs for at least 6 million years. When we examine the past, searching for scientific evidence, we cannot know if walking gave Homo erectus the courage and the vision to travel farther than any other hominin had before. We just know they had the long legs. But which came first: the vision or the legs? 

I know for me that walking is not simply a form of locomotion, it is a way of life which began as protest and ended up being a drug — one that despite being the most humble and hackneyed human behavior out there, still sometimes convinces me that I am going places.

Monday, June 1, 2020

Eyes Without a Face

It’s smart. It’s socially responsible. It’s awkward, it’s science, it’s love but people hate it and it’s only slightly bigger than a piece of toast, but more the proportions of a postcard. It’s a pandemic postcard: from me, to you.

The primary purpose of the everyday fabric mask is not to protect you from coronavirus. The purpose is to protect others from your facial droplets which, may, or may not contain coronavirus. In that way, it is a public display of affection, a tip of your hat, a neo-politeness. Have we ever had such a powerful accessory - both intensely personal and flagrantly public – in our everyday lives? I haven’t. 

Did you ever try to put booties on a dog? And then watch them march around like a weirdo after? That’s how I feel wearing a mask. The mask’s presence smolders on my face. It shifts my sensory and social experience like I have glasses on upside down, but it’s not funny. I don’t wear glasses and I cannot stand stupid things like snorkels or even kaleidoscopes touching my face. So you are telling me the mask is on my face, but it’s not about me? How’s that for a riddle? But we have to accept this minor discomfort and collective reality and just get used to it.

Here in New York City, masks are mandatory in many places and highly diverse in their morphology, materials and probably efficacy. Governor Cuomo has been urging the wearing of masks for weeks, he ran a contest for the best public service announcement about the importance of wearing a mask, here is the winner. He has even given the power to turn the maskless away in stores, on busses, etc.

Trader Joe’s, Columbus Ave. and 93rd St., May 31, 2020

The impact of wearing a mask is staggeringly profound: epidemiologically, socially, even fashion-wise. I have been ruminating about this for weeks: how can one strip of fabric serve such an essential function, but also communicate and evoke such wildly conflicting messages?

What about the science behind masks? 

At first, we were told not to wear them because they would increase the probability of touching your own face and therefore inadvertently increase disease transmission. Also, health care workers needed the N95 masks and they did not want everyone buying them. The part about touching your face is still relevant, and there are certain best practices for mask wearing that medical professionals adhere to.

But also, because of how rapid this pandemic has progressed, there is a dearth of empirical data on how fabric face coverings, worn by a whole population, affect the spread of coronavirus specifically [UPDATE: a new article was just published about the effectiveness of masks to prevent spread of COVID-19, see here].Though a few studies with small sample sizes are out there, and this is a hot-off-the-not-yet-press that reviews all of the relevant literature together. Look at section 3, Filtering Capability of Masks, this is my favorite quote, “Particle sizes for speech are on the order of 1μm”. This is quantifying the size of droplets that disperse when you talk. Here, speech - which I thought was a little more than spitting into the wind - isn’t.

And several other studies have focused on the physics of droplets and how they scatter when you talkcough or run.

Our daily fabric masks are, in some ways, an “experiment in progress”, which can be uncomfortable. New discoveries and data regarding the coronavirus are unfolding each minute. Certain studies really require years of longitudinal data and rigorous analysis and not a quick reductionist quote to the popular press. On a regular day, science can be seen all around us in technology and medicine, but the process of science never fully shows its face: the messiness, the time it takes, the failure. Now, we have all entered into the lab together as a society. And people are standing over scientists, breathing down their necks, and demanding they are more certain about unknowns. The fabric masks are some of this.

There are some data on the N95 masks protecting health care workers. But, to be continued for sure. 

And, how do we socialize in a mask? 

One of the twisted riddle-risks is that wearing a fabric mask does not make you invincible, so you should not act that way. People’s behavior while wearing a mask may make them more bold and therefore counteract the effectiveness of the mask in the first place. This is a potential problem. Cover your mouth and nose and, ideally, keep 6 feet apart - not a recipe for intimacy or even smooth communication with anyone. So what does mask culture mean for interpersonal relations?

It will mean we have to gesture in different ways to communicate things like kindness, thank you’s and their unkind opposites. You can’t see people smile except with their eyes - which is sort of sweet and literary - but also incredibly subtle in some cases. I have seen people nodding their heads to others and I recently gave someone a thumbs up in real life (not just an emoji). I already talk with my hands, maybe now that will be seen as a more positive attribute.

And can a mask be an expression of your politics? Is it the flag of the face? It is difficult for me to think this way because of where I live right now. But I know in other parts of the country it can seem this way because masks are more optional. So, wearing one exposes your values, acceptance of science, perceived compliance, anxiety perhaps. And anyway it doesn’t have to be political. It’s not a flag or a muzzle. It’s more like a facial tissue that stays put. Who would argue with you about your use of Kleenex? I get it, I do, but it’s stupid.

And there are also more serious social complications like racial issues or challenges for those who are hard of hearing. I am privileged that I do not experience these issues.

One unequivocal plus of the mask is that you can mutter under your breath in a much louder way, and no one sees you. Now we’re talkin'! I have found this particularly helpful as I navigate the landscape of the new and aching city and what distance means to me. In the market especially, where I have always wanted to mutter, because it kind of always sucks because someone is reaching for the same exact item as you want on the shelf, at the same exact time - and now I can mutter away without really getting into an altercation. Here, the mask is an accessory to enable my continued passive aggressiveness.

Related to that, the mask makes my emotions more cryptic and my face more anonymous, which I like. But I won’t say anything more about that.

And what about mask fashion? 

As we bear down on the absolute essentials of life: is fashion generally dead, with masks the final unsightly straw? Can you be all dressed up and wear a mask? Or is it—like my old office cardigan that I did not wash nearly enough—an “outfit ruiner”?

Can I feel pretty in a mask? not really. Does someone look handsome in a mask? not really. It’s all about the lips, noses and jawlines I guess.

People have been married in masks, and blessed are those who have gone the distance to color coordinate their masks with their pantsuits. I am not there yet.

And remember when masks were fun, like on Halloween? Me neither.

What about mask sizing? One size most certainly does not fit all faces, there is a lot of variation.

Museums are already collecting mask memorabilia as a piece of pandemic history. And of course people all over the world are getting creative and churning out homemade masks which are expressions of love and sewing skills - a little bit heartbreaking, a little bit lovely. I will always cherish the homemade masks that were sent to me during this strange time.

This post was supposed to be a short mediation on masks, but it’s more complicated than that. And even though this is the end of my post, this story is far from over.

Eyes Without A Face


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More mask articles at these links: