George Washington University reinstated its mask mandate a mere eight days after first lifting it.
GWU reinstated its mask mandate on Tuesday, a mere eight days after first lifting it.
T he George Washington University policy regarding Covid begins with three commitments for care on campus: “care for myself,” “care for others,” and “care for our community.” This includes wearing a mask as a key part of caring for others. Wearing a mask is characterized as being a considerate member of a community. Okay, my school cares about building a community. That’s nice. Then why did I receive dirty looks and inhospitable comments when I remained compliant with school policy by forgoing my mask during our brief alleviation from the campus mask mandate that started last week and, absurdly, ended eight days later?
Beyond this clear façade of empathy that acts to empower the virtue-signaling of many of my peers, the university policy answers my rhetorically intended question. In the subsequent section on “noncompliance” — a phrase that has eerie associations with dystopian clichés — the university sows divisiveness by deputizing students to turn on one another. “An individual engaging in noncompliance with the policy should anticipate having their behavior addressed by another member of the GW community,” the policy states, indicating channels to which transgressions can be reported.
Well, so much for seeking a community environment with a foundation of trust and mutual understanding and respect for others’ beliefs.
This is not to say that masks never have a time and place. Perhaps masks make sense in hospitals or made sense in the early days of the pandemic, when there was so much uncertainty about the prevalence and effects of Covid. Perhaps not. I am not a researcher introducing new empirical data. I am a student who has simply observed a clear shift toward a more hostile campus climate over the past two years.
What I do know is that just about every decision made by an adult, or by anyone, for that matter, involves some degree of a risk–benefit analysis. What I do know is that I’ve been reprimanded by professors when I’ve pulled down my mask to take a sip of water while sitting ten-plus feet from anyone in a lecture hall — all while the professors are exempt from wearing a mask in the same room. What I do know is that I am required to wear a mask while by myself in a private study room in the school library. What I do know is that I have friends who’ve had hearings before panels for a mask below the nose while working out in the school gym. What I do know is that my school initially waited to lift the mandate until 34 days after nearly all members of Congress (with a far lower vaccination rate than at my school, and many of them elderly) packed into the House chamber maskless to hear the State of the Union just down the street from us.
What I do know is that many aspects of our Covid response have been nonsensical and often proven redundant in retrospect.
That may be my opinion. But that is the point. Everyone has a different opinion on how to weigh various factors in a risk–benefit decision. We should not be shamed, chastised, and reported on for placing different weight on different aspects of a now-everyday practice.
I have made an effort to adhere to the mask policies on campus (perhaps aside from the heinous offense of sipping water). I disagreed with many aspects of the university’s Covid policy, but what I do believe in much more fervently is the maintenance of rules and order.
That being said, I also believe wholeheartedly in the key tenet of personal freedom and in everyone making an independent decision based on what one believes is best. So I greeted last week’s mandate reprieve with relief and agreement. It did not require anyone to not wear a mask. It merely gave each individual the opportunity to make their own decisions.
Many students went maskless immediately following the announcement, with many more removing their masks a day or two into the new policy. Many students kept their masks on, as was their prerogative. I made the personal decision to not wear a mask, but I never sought to make life miserable for those who made the decision to continue wearing one.
Unfortunately, that deference was not reciprocated. My decision, and the decisions of many others, were met with the aforementioned social repercussions. Glares, comments, and social-media posts were made during our week of mask-free school.
Do I really care that much about a piece of cloth on my face to articulate all this in an opinion piece? Not really. I have better uses of my time. What I do care deeply about, however, is this new culture on campuses — and even in society — that this whole mask episode is indicative of.
Being a conservative on a college campus is hard enough. It’s always been difficult to be outspoken about one’s beliefs, especially when dissenting on an overwhelmingly liberal campus. The particularly troubling aspect here, though, is the trend we’re observing. Society is moving away from valuing healthy discourse, a principle that is inherently traditionally liberal. We are moving toward a culture of marginalizing all those who may speak out against whatever the conventional wisdom of the moment is.
This is scary. I could go on and on about experiences I’ve had on campus and in society of purported “liberals” acting in grossly illiberal ways.
The essence here, though, is the preposterous, undemocratic, and fact-defying decision by the university that further divides an already fractured student body. The university has just empowered the least empathetic among us to continue to shame and tattle on their peers. The university has just told us that personal decisions are irrelevant. George Washington University has just reinjected conformity into their grandiose goal of “care for our community.”