A new policy went into effect March 21 that lifted requirements on wearing masks in indoor University spaces, excluding classrooms and designated “masks required” areas.
While it’s not a full lift on mask requirements, this change has invited me to imagine a return to a mask-free classroom. After a year of training my eyes to recognize half-faces, a return to normalcy in the classroom will undoubtedly be strange.
As thrilled as I would be if COVID-19 data made a full lift on mask restrictions responsible, I imagine it would take some getting used to. I’ve connected with some people over the last few semesters whom I’ve only interacted with while masked. A shift to a maskless classroom might make these people feel like strangers.
Last semester, I pulled down my mask in class for a moment to take a sip of water. My instructor paused mid-lecture to face me.
“Noor, you look so different from what I thought you’d look like!” she said.
Once I got over my embarrassment, I was able to reflect on just how weird our world has become in the past couple of years — given that the mere sight of someone’s entire face was enough to warrant shock.
Her comment wasn’t a judgment of my appearance (at least I hope it wasn’t), but rather an expression of something I find myself thinking nearly every time I catch a glimpse of a full face. It’s as if there are two versions of everybody I interact with: mask on and mask off. It’s jarring.
Interacting with the same people most days fully masked is a type of weird that perfectly exemplifies just how strange this phase of the pandemic is, this almost-normal-but-not-quite stage.
Mask requirements are easing, but not everywhere. Large events are back on, but you might need to show your vaccine card. We can go to class in person, but only see half of people’s faces. Sometimes, operating at 95% normalcy feels weirder than just being fully locked down.
The isolation of the previous school year hasn’t fully subsided, it’s simply given way to yet another form of isolation that’s odder and more subtle. We can talk to others face-to-face, which is an improvement from previous years, but there’s something missing, quite literally. Our faces are hugely expressive. It’s impossible to not feel disconnected when half of that expression is simply not visible.
Some of us, including myself, have even changed the way we emote for ease of communication while masking. I find myself doing things like exaggerating expressions so they travel up to my eyes, squinting instead of smiling, or even making a point to laugh slightly louder to compensate for my hidden mouth. Just like theater makeup looks ridiculous off-stage, these adapted expressions would look ridiculous without a mask. But they’re almost necessary, at least for me, to feel as if I’m genuinely connecting with people.
As much as I hate masks, though, I’m not sure I’m ready for them to be fully gone. As of March 31, Hennepin County’s COVID risk level is low. But, because the pandemic has thrown so many curveballs our way already, I don’t feel right relaxing quite yet.
When the day does come that masking is no longer necessary, though, I’ll be thrilled to be smiling with my entire face again.
