It is no secret that COVID-19 has challenged our world in countless ways. Along with the obvious risks to our physical health, I would argue that emotional risks are at the top of the list.
As we hunkered down at home last spring, we found new ways to stay in touch, relying on video-conferencing to gather for work, for family visits, and for spiritual nourishment through online Masses, retreats and prayer groups. I am surely not alone in saying that I used telephones, emails, and text messages like never before. Technology was a lifeline in those early and trying days of the pandemic.
Communication, however, is much more intricate than technology provides. To know what people are really saying and how they are really feeling, we need to see their body language and hear their voices, without lags and internet delays. Therefore, even though I was nervous about returning to school in September, I was happy to wear a mask if it meant that I could be in the presence of other people again. I did not, however, anticipate the full effects masks would have on our abilities to communicate.
Don’t get me wrong. I am in favour of wearing masks outside of my home. I want to do everything I can to slow and prevent the transmission of this virus. Despite many standard complaints, I do not have trouble breathing when I’m masked, and I have learned how to adjust my mask to avoid having my glasses fog up (much of the time). I do find that I have vocal fatigue from having to project and enunciate more forcefully than I am accustomed to, but what I find most draining about wearing masks is the ability to truly see people’s facial expressions and read between the lines when they speak.
As a learning resource teacher, I spent significant time attempting to teach children how to communicate successfully. Along with helping them read, write and speak clearly, members of our team focus on active listening strategies. We teach children to be “social detectives” (a copyrighted term from the “Social Thinking” brand of Michelle Garcia Winner and Pamela Crooke), making a point of teaching all children to “read the room” and “read” facial expressions to help them build relationships and reduce personal anxiety.
The speech-language pathologist I work with teaches students to notice and understand faces using three important facial features, namely eyes, eyebrows, and mouths. She helps children identify emotions and decide on appropriate things to say and do, depending on the mood or feelings they perceive on another’s face. Masks have removed a key component of this facial interpretation – the mouth – and I worry about children who are missing out on opportunities to learn effective social communication during critical, developmental years.
I also worry about adults who face anxiety behind more than just the masks of privacy and denial. With mouths literally covered, we need to make concerted efforts to focus intently on people’s eyes and eyebrows. We need to listen attentively to tone of voice, watch body language, and ask specific and supportive questions.
We likewise need to focus on the ways we present ourselves to others, as expressed in the following prayer, written by Reverend Richard Bott, Moderator of the Presbyterian Church of Canada.
A Prayer for Putting on a Face Mask
Creator God, as I prepare to go into the world, help me to see the sacramental nature of wearing of this cloth. Let it be a tangible and visible way of living love for my neighbours, as I love myself.
Christ Jesus, since my lips will be covered, uncover my heart, that people would see my smile in the crinkles around my eyes. Since my voice may be muffled, help me to speak clearly, not only with my words, but with my actions.
Holy Spirit, as the elastic touches my ears, remind me to listen carefully and caringly to all those I meet. May this simple piece of cloth be shield and banner, and may each breath that it holds, be filled with Your love, In Your name, and in that love, I pray. Amen.
As we protect each other from illness, may we also strive to be “social detectives” and effective communicators, protecting each other from the rampant diseases of isolation and anxiety.