Trauma Sponges by Jeremy Norton

Author:Jeremy Norton [Norton, Jeremy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: BIO026000 BIOGRAPHY & AUTOBIOGRAPHY / Personal Memoirs
Publisher: University of Minnesota Press
Published: 2023-10-10T00:00:00+00:00

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And then what happened?

Oh, right: The police killed an unarmed Black man again, and the city erupted—briefly. The riots lasted four nights; the damages will echo for years. Most of us have never experienced the spasms of violence and destruction, the blocks of buildings immolated, the rage and sadness blending into a furious force. If we can learn from this, we might spare ourselves—and our children—having to experience it again.

The racial justice marches and protests were not superspreader events. The Black community took care of itself. In Minneapolis, at least. At the marches and protests I saw widespread and self-conscious masking on the part of the white participants. The weight of guilt and demonstrations of care were apparent. (Yes, the police just killed another Black man. I will do my part by putting this sign on my lawn and wearing a mask to the protest march.) During the riots, with the tear gas and video surveillance, people were incentivized to mask up. Regardless of motivation, we did not see a spike in infections in the weeks after the uprising.

Here’s the thing: wearing a mask gave me confidence to engage with the public, to be in proximity—at a time when people were keeping distance. Masked, I worried less about my health or spreading the virus to the public (on the chance I had been infected). I felt comfortable in large crowds, interacting with people during the protests and at what became George Floyd Square, standing close, listening to what people were saying. These are all real parts of our job, I believe, and my comfort level in a mask improved my comfort level among the citizens, building better relationships, overcoming mutual wariness. I did a lot of expressive eye movement, communicating with my squinty-smize eyes that I was not there to fuck with people, that I recognized their suffering and humanity, that I appreciated the history that lay all about and upon us, no matter the simple interaction. Many people were doing the same: effusive, manic nodding and gesturing, trying to express both concrete and existential support. That is a lot of weight for our eyes to carry . . . regardless, masked up, I felt comfortable in proximity to everyone we encountered, anywhere we met.

I have never felt my “liberties” or “freedoms” were infringed upon or sacrificed by wearing a mask. I am confounded by those who claim to believe this. Masking is my duty to myself, my family, my coworkers, and the general public.

I worked on my birthday in January 2021, and, because it was work, I forgot I had my simple mask on when I went to blow out the candles on my carrot cake.

Guess what?

I couldn’t. I put my face next to and above the candles and could not force air through—the flame did not even wiggle. I tried thrice before remembering my mask.

“Pretty cool,” I said to my giggling crew. Science.

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