The Middletown Press (Middletown, CT)
Declining COVID cases: A New England thing?
Recent news about the COVID-19 pandemic in the United States feels increasingly grim. Anyone who is paying attention can see that our country could be doing much, much better at controlling the spread of the virus. But while states like Florida continue to set record after record for most new cases in a single day, Connecticut and its New England neighbors to the north have admirably contained the virus’s spread.
The question is, how? Are we better about wearing masks? Are we more likely to trust medical experts about social distancing? Are we just lucky? Maybe. But there’s one factor that we shouldn’t overlook: our ability to politely ignore one another.
When asked to describe the Connecticut (or New England) personality, many people are quick to point out that we are not known for our warmth. “People (aren’t) super friendly and no one looks at you in the face,” writes one commenter in an online forum about what it’s like to live in New England. “If you come from the South, people around (here) will seem obscenely rude,” cautions another.
On the one hand, I want to challenge the stereotype that New Englanders are unfriendly. I was born in Connecticut and have lived here most of my life, and not all Nutmeggers are shut-ins eager for an excuse to bar the doors and stream “The Tiger King” in blissful solitude. But our reputation for social frigidity isn’t entirely undeserved. Sometimes polite avoidance is preferable to alternatives like road rage or an honest conversation.
In fact, avoidance is our chosen method of conflict resolution. We know a dozen excuses for extricating ourselves from unwanted conversations. We are schooled in the science of leaving passive-aggressive sticky notes. We know how to glance through the blinds to make sure the neighbors aren’t watering their plants so that we can avoid them when we leave the house. We can even avoid knowing our neighbors’ names if we want to. We know that, in order to evade what Larry David terms a “stop and chat,” all we need to do when encountering an acquaintance at the store is smile, give a perfunctory greeting, and — most importantly — keep walking.
We are pros at avoiding one another when necessary. And right now, it’s necessary. During this unprecedented public health crisis, our well-practiced avoidance tactics have become useful in unprecedented ways. Maybe the shift into social distancing isn’t as hard for us as it has been for those more accustomed to spontaneous and lengthy conversations with friends, acquaintances, and even strangers.
When visiting Georgia, for instance, I couldn’t believe how long it took to check out at the grocery store. This wasn’t because the line was especially long, but because the bagger evidently relished the opportunity to share her life — and ask about mine — in a way that felt more appropriate for a family reunion than a Publix.
Of course, we’re not doing anything new when we politely avoid these kinds of unwanted intimacies. This behavior is a part of our state history. In 1633, Thomas Hooker politely excused himself from England to cross the ocean and settle in Boston. Three years later, he politely excused himself from the Massachusetts Bay Colony and traveled south to found Connecticut. And in 1776, Connecticut joined with 12 other colonies in politely excusing themselves from the British Empire.
Now, in 2020, we have good reason to politely excuse ourselves from all kinds of obligations. In Connecticut, our efforts may be paying off: on July 7 and 10, Connecticut celebrated its first and second days of zero COVID-related deaths since the first death was reported on March 17. On July 21, we heard reports of another day with no Connecticut virus deaths. And for nearly the entire month of July, fewer than a hundred Connecticut patients have been hospitalized due to the virus at any given time.
Not that we should start congratulating ourselves yet. COVID-19 infection rates are changing day-byday, and my comments on Connecticut’s relative success in limiting the spread of the virus might prove tragically ironic in the weeks or months to come. But for right now, when those from other regions accuse us of being as cold as a Litchfield morning in January, we can smile (politely, of course) and take silent pride in how that coldness may be helping to keep us safe.
Of course, we’re not doing anything new when we politely avoid these kinds of unwanted intimacies. This behavior is a part of our state history.