OPINION Students walking a fine line
Notre Dame won game — but lost face with public
TheNotreDame student noticed Iwasn’twearingmy mask on campus.
“Would you like one?” she asked, revealing a smile behind her mask.
I politely accepted it and thanked her.
Saturday, I visited the beautiful South Bend campus to enjoy its palpable buzz before the start of the university’s football game against top-ranked Clemson. The entire campus felt electric on that unseasonablywarm day as the fall colors blended together— Irish green and Clemson orange.
Iwandered from a mostly deserted part of the campus to another section swarming with students, faculty and football fans. I likely stood out because I didn’t sport any green or orange, and Iwasn’twearingmy mask at that time. You could say I letmy guard down, something thatwould happen on a larger scale later that evening inside the stadium.
Most of theNotreDame students I sawwore masks of some kind, many with “Here” printed on it. Under the late-afternoon shroud of Touchdown Jesus, I pulled outmy phone to find an explanation.
“’Here’ is a declaration that takes on new meaning after a period of separation,” the university’swebsite states. “There is a special feeling of being here, going to school here, working here. Aswe return to campus, the renewed excitement of students, faculty and staff must be met with renewed diligence for caring for each other in very practicalways. It will be challenging, but if any place is equal to the task, it isNotreDame. It is here.”
The “Here” campaign was everywhere on campus. But later that night, afterNotreDame upset Clemson in a double-overtimewin, a GreenWave of controversy took place here. Hundreds of students rushed the field in an instinctive frenzy to celebrate, an image broadcast to millions of TV viewers.
Social media blew up with comments – and judgments – over some of those students notwearing themasks they had used throughout the day and throughout the game. Or against other students whose masks didn’t cover their mouth or nose. Social distancingwas sacked for a highly publicized loss, and the incident prompted the university to intensify its exit testing protocols ahead of the Thanksgiving break.
NotreDamewon the football game but lost the public image game. If the team had lost, this scene of students crammed together in delirious celebration wouldn’t have occurred. Yet this situation offers us a sideline viewpoint howwe, as a society, are reacting to theCOVID-19 pandemic.
Peer pressure in public works bothways— to do the right thing or the risky thing. I’ve done both. I’ve preferred social distancing to maskwearing when in public spaces. I’ve intentionally avoided more people these past five months than I have in the past 50 years. When mask usage is mandated, or simply smart, I put one on. It could be the “Swiss cheese” theory of public health protection, as experts have called it, poked with obvious holes of complacency.
I’ve been in situations where people proudlywear amask one minute, then lower it or remove it thinking no one has noticed. Or
they keep putting one over their nose after it slides down. Or theywear it wrongly, fooling themselves but no one else. It all seems like one big charade to me at times.
This isn’t a judgment call. It’s an observation. I’ve never ranted to anyone about notwearing a mask. I’ve never done so on social media. Wear one, don’t wear one, it’s your playbook. Amask has become a political prop and a lightning rod of differing values. I’m not here to bring any verdicts. I don’t deserve it.
Public health experts are nowrecommending for those families who insist on getting together for Thanksgiving to sit in every other chair at the dinner table. And towear amask in between meals. Really? Seriously? Ridiculously. It’s an illusion thatwe’re preparing for that day. Either get together and roll the dice or don’t get together and do the safer option. Don’t pretend to care about public health and your grandparents’ health by wearing a mask for the first half of the holiday and preaching about maskwearing in the second half.
I’ve witnessed people attempting to cover their mouth and nose with part of their shirt or coat while talking tome. Iwould have laughed out loud but I didn’twant to offend them. It’s comical howmany of us, myself included, are reacting to this health
crisis. Many of us have the most careful of intentions yet the carelessness of old habits, like some of those NotreDame students.
Our masked hypocrisies are being revealed amid our pandemic fatigue. As we enter a dark winter, this is no time for false pretenses while debating our national conundrum— public health versus financial health. This also is no time for post-election cognitive dissonance.
“It doesn’tmatter your party, your point of view. We can save tens of thousands of lives if everyone would justwear amask for the next few months. Not
Democrat or Republican lives, American lives,” presumptive Presidentelect Joe Biden said this week.
Our country, including Indiana and Illinois, is experiencing record cases ofCOVID-19 infections and hospitalizations since the pandemic struck. I can’t keep up with specific numbers of cases and deaths. “Another daily record,” is nowa daily newspaper headline.
TheU.S. leads theworld with roughly 10 million cases and 240,000 deaths, according to JohnsHopkinsUniversity. The latest wave appears larger and
more widespread than the previous surges in the spring and summer.
“Our hospital is beyond capacity and are experiencing staffing shortages due to employees testing positive. It’s only going to getworse here,” said one hospital emergency room professional in nearby St. Joseph County.
Last Saturday, on the NotreDame campus, I witnessed a predictable microcosm of our national challenge— prayerful intentions with dubious results. Arewe equal to the task “here”?