Photo by aboodi vesakaran on Unsplash
March 1, 2022. A day we had all been anxiously awaiting. We never thought this day would arrive. Our first Tuesday in March marked our first day at school without a mask mandate. We had made it through two years of a horrid pandemic.
I was thrilled the virus rates had lowered so much in our area. Our school announced three days prior that on March 1, masks would be optional for all of those within our school community who are vaccinated. We are fortunate to have over 80% of our population vaccinated, and our state’s virus rates were under 2.5%. (Maryland Health Department Covid Link) Our school also has a regular testing plan in place which helps identify any positive cases.
Driving to school I said to my teenager, “Today is our first maskless day! Aren’t you excited?”
“I’m wearing mine anyway,” she grunted.
“Why?!” I asked, hardly able to contain my own excitement for being liberated from teaching with a mask on all day.
“Just to be safe,” she replied.
I figured she would take it off halfway through the day anyway, so I did not continue the conversation.
When we arrived at school, I walked up to my building and looked in my bag for my mask out of habit. I saw a colleague approaching without one, and I was reminded, oh yeah no mask today. We walked through the door together and for the first time in two years, I smelled the building. Scents of construction, furniture, and tennis shoes filled my nostrils. This is beautiful, I thought. Yet so unusual. I don’t remember smelling any of this. The day began with a fresh start.
I climbed the stairs to my classroom and saw some students. All wearing masks, they stared at me. I smiled. As more students arrived, a ratio of about 50/50 developed.. Half of the students wore masks and half were running freely smiling to start the day.
My colleagues and I joked with students who were not wearing masks.
“Oh my goodness, who are YOU?”
“Your face! That FACE! It’s beautiful!”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t recognize you–”
Students were confused at first, and then they began to laugh and play the game as well.
I went into my colleague’s room at the start of the day during her advisory and said, “Ms. Buseck, so nice to SEE you again!!” The kids went wild with laughter. Colleen replied, “You look great today, Ms. Smith!” I replied by blowing her a kiss from my lips saying, “Look what I can do now!”
In my morning advisory, three students chose to continue wearing masks. When one decided to take it off, I asked if his parents allowed him to do so. “Oh yeah,” he said, “they don’t care.” I found that interesting. Here was a fifth grader who chose of his own accord to wear his mask to school and keep it on.
I suppose he wanted to test the waters slowly. He wanted to see who would buck the habit to which they were so accustomed. He was hesitant to take the risk after so long wearing a mask. Interestingly, this student not only is vaccinated, but he had a mild case of covid-19 three weeks ago. His immunity was probably the highest in the grade.
As the day wore on, I saw more and more naked faces. It was beautiful, yet it felt so strange. It was as if we were breaking a cardinal rule. As if we were breaking into someone’s privacy. As if we were stark naked among everyone in our community.
My colleagues started a group chat, “Is it just me, or is anyone else truly seeing these children for the first time?”
“I had no idea some of these children looked like this!”
“Their faces are so different without the masks!”
We all agreed. The children did look radically different. We did not recognize some of them without their masks.
In the afternoon, I heated a cup of tea to sip while teaching. When drinking, I kept reaching down after each sip to replace my mask. Yet, it was not there. And I laughed at myself. As my students watched my continued fumbles, they laughed at me as well.
Over the course of the year, there is one student who struggled to keep his mask on his face appropriately. I was constantly reminding him to place the garment over his nose. His tablemate came up and said to me, “Ms. Smith, it’s the first day you won’t have to remind him to replace his mask!” I laughed and looked at the boy. Ironically, his mask was fully covering his face as he had chosen to keep it on all day.
Throughout the day, more and more students took the chance of lowering their masks. They placed masks in lockers or allowed them to hang underneath their chins. Students ran around gleefully showing their smiles. I chatted with my colleagues and saw their faces all day long. It was beautiful.
Of course, we had to balance the fun so that those who remained masked were comfortable. A few students are unvaccinated or come from high risk households. Some were wearing masks because they have plans for the upcoming spring break. “No way am I missing our spring break trip, Ms. Smith!”
That Tuesday was the most uplifting day in quite some time for us. What gave us joy was not just ridding ourselves of the mask. We were also ridding ourselves of the constant nagging fear we had held onto so tightly for years. We were allowing ourselves to let in a ray of hope, a brighter light at the end of the tunnel, and a new fresh perspective on daily life.
All of this happiness because of a little mask. Who would have thought such a little piece of fabric could make such a difference?