By Diane M. Jarrett
The man behind the counter glared at me with unveiled hostility. He then turned away and busied himself with unpacking some boxes and clearing off a desk, ignoring me completely. Odd. I was a potential customer hoping to spend hundreds if not thousands of dollars on hardware necessary for a home remodeling project. You’d think he might offer to help me or at least acknowledge my presence.
At first I couldn’t imagine what I’d done to stimulate such antagonism. To that point I had said not a word, and there was nothing about my appearance that I could think of as being objectionable. I was professionally attired, with no accoutrements such as political slogans or religious paraphernalia or anything else that might offend. I looked like a mild mannered and middle-aged faculty member, which is what I am. Surely he didn’t believe me to be a shoplifter or to have other nefarious intentions.
I stood there puzzled while the man continued to alternate between snubbing me and flashing his scowling face in my direction. Then awareness came: It was my mask. After quick reflection, I realized that utterly no one else in the store was wearing one.
Just a few minutes earlier, I had parked my car outside. My reflex was to grab a mask, but then I wondered: To mask or not to mask at this place of business? Usually the answer about masking would be: Yes, of course. You work at a university medical center, in a residency program, and you wear a mask from the moment you arrive until you leave. Simple. No ambiguity. Mask up, wash your hands, complete your daily screener, and stay distant. You came from your office in a building with a clinic where COVID-19 patients were being seen – of course you will wear a mask when you go into this place of business.
But in those pandemic months that had involved buying a house that needed updating, I had encountered many strangers who didn’t see it that way. I remember a laborer telling me that he refused to be vaccinated because he wasn’t going to do anything that would give him cerebral palsy. After I responded to him courteously and nonjudgmentally, he relaxed somewhat, and we agreed to disagree with no hard feelings.
Not with this fellow at the store. In my mind, I nicknamed him Angry Eyes. Since there was no one else working in the showroom area, I approached him with a nod and a greeting. No response. Then I asked politely if he could help me find the materials I needed. Through clenched teeth, he finally growled out one word. “What?”
I offered to show him a couple of photos to give him an idea of what I was looking for, but he would have none of it. In a furious posture, he continued to clean off the desk while muttering under his breath. His few replies were monosyllabic (mostly “no”), and our very limited interchange ended abruptly when an unmasked customer stepped up. As simple as changing the TV channel, Angry Eyes transformed into a genial and helpful staffer, abandoning the minuscule attempt he had offered at recognizing my existence. It was all over for me, and I had lost interest in shopping.
As I walked back to my car, nodding civilly to the unmasked and silently staring employees along the way, I pondered if this was what it would be like to be a person of color, or a woman wearing a hijab, or someone who appears to be unsheltered – going into a store or any other venue and becoming the brunt of antipathy despite having done nothing wrong. A pariah, unwanted and disparaged. I suppose I could have complained, but to what end? I might have removed my mask, but I doubted that Angry Eyes would have cared. I was already marked as the enemy.
During our house remodeling process, I met tradesmen who cheerfully donned masks and offered to show me their vaccination cards. I’ve known well-educated and professional persons who are proudly, vocally anti-vax and anti-mask. Two I remember in particular died after an extended period on ventilators. I give up on determining the characteristics that lead a person in one direction or another in response to a pandemic.
What I don’t want to give up on is human kindness, and managing to remain considerate even when a person looks different or has opinions that to some will seem controversial. I don’t want to forsake the notion that I can walk into a store and be treated respectfully while wearing a mask. I grieve for my son, a resident physician who was accused of hyping the pandemic so that he could make money and so that he could shill for a government that was conspiring to impose dangerous acts upon the citizenry. I want him to live a life in which he is unafraid to encourage his patients to make medical decisions that benefit us all.
In 1992, Rodney King was responding to the riots that arose after video of his beating by police officers was widely shown. With astonishing grace he pleaded, “People, I just want to say, can’t we all get along? Can’t we all get along?”
That was the question I wanted to ask Angry Eyes.
Diane M. Jarrett Ed.D., M.A., is an associate professor and Director of the UAMS College of Medicine Department of Family and Preventive Medicine Office of Communication and Departmental Relations and Co-Director of the department’s Office of Leadership and Professional Development.