I felt weird. Embarrassed.
It was a warm spring day and I was strolling around inside Fleet Farm with a bandana covering my face. I was pretty sure I caught a few folks snickering at me, and more than a few staring.
After all, covering your face indoors isn’t something most of us usually do in America. But this is COVID-land. And I’m gonna make the argument it should become bandana-land.
I had decided a few days before that I was gonna give this face-covering thing a go the next time I ventured out. That occasion came on Thursday, a day before the CDC officially recommended everyone wear face coverings in public spaces.
Note I said “face coverings.” Not masks. Masks, in our COVID vocabulary, are for the sick and those caring for the sick. I’m neither.
But I might have the coronavirus.
You can have it and not know for days, perhaps even ever. But you can still spread it.
In fact, some research suggests up to 25 percent of people infected with the coronavirus don’t show symptoms. But they (we?) are still contagious, and such “stealth spreaders” could be part of the reason why this thing moves so swiftly. And it’s the reason the CDC is now recommending we all cover our faces.
It’s pretty basic: First, they said cover your cough. Now, cover your face.
So I’m wearing a bandana because I don’t want my spit, my breath, or even my voice to carry little droplets anywhere you might breathe them in or somehow pick them up. Because they could be laced with the coronavirus.
And I don’t know if I have the coronavirus.
So covering my face is a selfless act. Sort of.
But — and this is important — I also don’t know if you have the coronavirus. And you don’t know either.
My bandana isn’t great protection from you. But your bandana is.
Your bandana — the one I’m asking you to wear — catches your droplets.
You see how this works? It’s an agreement: I stay 6 feet away from you, and you stay 6 feet away from me. I wear a bandana, and you wear a bandana. Or a scarf, balaclava, muffler — we Minnesotans have closets full of this stuff this time of year. Or you can make your own.
We all social distance — health officials are clear that a face covering is no substitute for this — and we all cover our noses and mouths.
This is basically the same agreement that emerged in several southeast Asian countries starting with the SARS outbreak in 2002 and was cemented by ensuing influenza outbreaks. It’s resulted in a starkly different face-covering culture than our own, to the point where covering your face in Hong Kong during a health crisis is standard etiquette.
So I cover my face, which makes you want to cover your face, which protects me. So it’s actually selfish, too.
We’re not there yet. This will feel weird for a lot of us.
President Trump acknowledged he’s not comfortable wearing a face covering.
“Wearing a face mask as I greet presidents, prime ministers, dictators, kings, queens — I don’t know,” he said, moments after announcing the CDC recommendation.
But, I wonder, what if the other president, prime minister, dictator, king or queen also wears one? If we all do it, maybe it won’t feel so weird.
I’ll keep wearing mine if you start wearing yours.
