By Salvatore A. Barcia Jr.

Posted April 11, 2022

This particular day in March 2022 was much like any other.  I prepared for work, followed my morning routine, and read from my regular script.  At a glance there was nothing ceremonious, just another day at the office.  But in reality everything was changing.

The masks could finally come off.

Walking on the Wild Side

On a typical day I walk to work.  It’s a little short of two miles, not bad for a guy in his 50s trying to keep in better-than-awful shape.  Plus I avoid the urban parking nightmare, which sadly dominates daily planning.

The walk offers a glimpse into contemporary city life.  On a daily basis I watch neighborhoods evolve, showcasing varied ethnicities sprinkled with bits of gentrification.  Widespread trash underlines our collective disdain for the planet, and homeless camps highlight economic dilemmas.  Occasionally I have to dodge an absent-minded driver making a turn, or a bicyclist who believes traffic laws do not apply to two-wheeled vehicles.

This time I was on a different route, dropping off the car for an oil change.  With the service station beyond walking distance, the subway offered alternative transport with requisite anxiety over delays.  Therein lies the power of the walk: complete control over pacing; no parking concerns; fresh air (as fresh as you get crossing an overpass to the Gowanus Expressway); and time to exorcise demons.

Road to Somewhere

A long walk creates a true meditative opportunity.  No checking news, talking, watching shows, doing chores, scanning email, fielding complaints, preparing paperwork, solving issues.  Nothing except my thoughts.  On a bad day I sort feelings, on a good day I fantasize plans for lottery winnings (I’m not very daring; even in my fantasies most goes to savings).  News stories become fodder for internal point-counterpoint debates.  I’ve composed drumming parts for my after-school program, planned class activities, mapped trips, managed to-do lists, sorted weekend schedules, and even crafted ideas for this blog.  Time alone with our thoughts is more important than we realize.

Unfortunately time on the train does not provide the same spiritual sustenance.  I paced and counted minutes like a 1950s dad-to-be in a hospital waiting room.  Trash on the tracks was supplemented with foraging rats.  Less hospitable subways meant I looked over my shoulder a little more often than usual.

Still, I couldn’t help obsess over one lingering question:  Will I wear my mask today?

The Best and Worst of Times

I recall those weeks in March 2020 like Marilu Henner.  Everyone has endured so much since, placing a fog over our lives.  It’s as if we’ve warped to the future and lost two years.

By March 2022, rules around COVID had faded.  After a winter surge, attention turned to the elusive light at the end of the tunnel.  A declaration to unmask felt monumental.  “This is the final step, so now it’s over . . . right?” I pondered.  “They lifted the school mask mandate, so we can get back to normal, yes?”

Then again, COVID has ignited a darker side of humanity (to be fair it has also shone a spotlight on the integrity and bravery of many), so I am not sure what “normal” means anymore.  We are constantly “on the brink” of a cataclysm, preparing go-bags and mapping out crisis meeting points.  There has been social upheaval (for better or worse), rioting, economic calamity, insurrection, and war.  Nuclear conflict is back in the realm of possibility.

Bad times beget bad times . . . and there’s a lot of begetting to go around.

Arrival

Expectations were mixed as I approached my school.  We survived a remote spring of 2020 followed by an awkwardly hybrid school year.  This school year had been fully masked.  Like many, I had rarely been mask-less indoors.

A mask had joined wallet, keys and phone as essentials earning the old American Express slogan “Don’t Leave Home Without It.”  I’d gotten used to fibers in my mouth, an itchy face, a louder voice, and hidden faces.  Suddenly, it was declared OK not to wear one.  This was different than New York’s later proclamation ironically insisting athletes and performers must be immune so no vaccine required — this was universal.

Upon entry, I habitually retrieved a mask from my pocket.  After a brief flirtation, it calmly retreated for (hopefully) an extended hibernation.  Many teachers revealed their faces, others were not ready.  Some kids unmasked with exuberance, others were frustrated following parental orders.  One said she had to keep it on “until COVID is gone” (this may be quite a wait).  Most resisted removal, a security blanket difficult to expunge.

Celebration

We began our day with a school-wide Zoom call, one new outcropping of COVID.  “Zooming” is a blessing and a curse.  It’s wonderful to keep touch with friends, run meetings with people in faraway locations, and coordinate large-scale discussions.  Those working from home have a new outlet to be productive, and international connections are extended.  Conversely, it’s created a crutch for some to avoid human contact while allowing businesses to keep their employees on an ever-shortening leash.  Meetings much better suited for in-person are relegated to a screen, and distractions are more common since efforts on other devices remain hidden.  Still, I must accept the inevitable winds of change bringing the next step in our evolving communications.

To acknowledge the moment, we watched a video set to U2’s Beautiful Day, highlighting people unmasking to show either a face or a second mask.  Despite most of my kids still masking, they interestingly cheered when someone in the video took it off and booed when they revealed a second.

Teachers smiled as we passed in the halls, happy to see each other’s faces again.  I likely overused the corny joke, “So that’s what you look like!”  It was a relief to speak to my class without a face covering.

Suddenly, after two years, it felt over.

Twirling, Twirling to a Better Future

Cautiously optimistic, we can’t help but wonder about things to come after witnessing so much uncertainty.  We are constantly watching for the next variant or another world shaking event.  I long for a time when the biggest news is an Apple announcement, a celebrity trial, a new movie, or Kim Kardashian’s latest life declaration (Will Smith has temporarily diverted our attention from the world’s ills, simultaneously shining an unfortunate spotlight on the disintegration of societal norms).

Two years ago, when we first entered a temporary shutdown to “flatten the curve,” we accepted a few weeks to manage this and then get back to our lives.  This was a temporary bump before we returned to normal programming.

Clearly we were wrong.

Where will we be two years from now?  Let’s talk at the crisis meeting point.