I’m a teacher and in the country where I live we had a few weeks of school in-person this September-October until the fall wave got too high and we all went home. School was run with a reduced class size and distancing rules in place, but try telling that to a sixth grader. At one point a kid jumped out of his chair and ran up to me and I had to tell him to back up and go back to his seat. Another kid asked, “Mr. Z, are you scared of coronavirus?”
What did that feel like? It felt like being offended. I sort of mentally seized up, and my chest muscles clenched. I was able, with some effort, to acknowledge that yes, coronavirus was a concern for me. I’ve thought about that moment a lot.
My theory at the time was that we’re conditioned to avoid admitting to being afraid of something, especially publicly and on short notice. At least when I was growing up, if I admitted fear, I’d generally be mocked for it, so I learned not to do it. And when someone asks me if I’m afraid—or accuses me of being afraid—I get angry at them. I want to tell them, “no, I’m not ‘afraid’ - I’m rationally concerned about bad outcomes.” I think in part the accusation of fear angers me because it implies that I am somehow being irrational, or letting my emotions get the best of me—whereas my belief is that if I’m “afraid” that means that there is real danger which is dangerous and likely enough to warrant some action to mitigate the danger. But in general, if someone asks me if I’m afraid, what it feels like is they’re accusing me of being irrational. So my impulse is to deny it, or to try to “rationalize” the fear.
But I think this is a destructive impulse—I think being afraid to admit you’re afraid leads people towards collective stupidity, like reopening schools before it is safe to do so. Speaking of which...
This Monday we’re supposed to return to in-person instruction, despite cases being almost as high now as they were when we closed. Parents are just tired of their kids, I guess. Anyway, because I have a specific risk factor, and live in a multi-generational household, I asked my principal if I could continue teaching online and just have them project me into the classroom for the seven kids at a time that will be allowed in the room in person. I ended up speaking with the director of the school yesterday and she told me I sounded scared. Without hesitation I agreed that I am indeed scared. But being able to smoothly admit that seems to have taken, let’s say, many hours over many months of introspection and reflection and mental preparation and specific resolve. Basically I had to have so much confidence that my fear was justified and that mitigating the danger was necessary that I felt like I could absorb the hit to my social status or reputation that would come from being a person who admits to being afraid. Or at least, that’s what it looks like from the inside. I know that I did the introspection and preparation, and I know that my physiological and mental reaction to being asked if I was afraid of coronavirus changed between October and February, but I obviously can’t prove that the introspection and preparation caused the change.
Social acceptability , that is what all interaction are made off.
At the beggining of the pamdemic I wore a mask for non pandemic reason and a person made a joke to me laughing “Is that for the corona virus ?” , months everyone wore them for pandemic reason , and no one made a joke about it (and probebly didn’t rembmer their previous attitude).
I’m a teacher and in the country where I live we had a few weeks of school in-person this September-October until the fall wave got too high and we all went home. School was run with a reduced class size and distancing rules in place, but try telling that to a sixth grader. At one point a kid jumped out of his chair and ran up to me and I had to tell him to back up and go back to his seat. Another kid asked, “Mr. Z, are you scared of coronavirus?”
What did that feel like? It felt like being offended. I sort of mentally seized up, and my chest muscles clenched. I was able, with some effort, to acknowledge that yes, coronavirus was a concern for me. I’ve thought about that moment a lot.
My theory at the time was that we’re conditioned to avoid admitting to being afraid of something, especially publicly and on short notice. At least when I was growing up, if I admitted fear, I’d generally be mocked for it, so I learned not to do it. And when someone asks me if I’m afraid—or accuses me of being afraid—I get angry at them. I want to tell them, “no, I’m not ‘afraid’ - I’m rationally concerned about bad outcomes.” I think in part the accusation of fear angers me because it implies that I am somehow being irrational, or letting my emotions get the best of me—whereas my belief is that if I’m “afraid” that means that there is real danger which is dangerous and likely enough to warrant some action to mitigate the danger. But in general, if someone asks me if I’m afraid, what it feels like is they’re accusing me of being irrational. So my impulse is to deny it, or to try to “rationalize” the fear.
But I think this is a destructive impulse—I think being afraid to admit you’re afraid leads people towards collective stupidity, like reopening schools before it is safe to do so. Speaking of which...
This Monday we’re supposed to return to in-person instruction, despite cases being almost as high now as they were when we closed. Parents are just tired of their kids, I guess. Anyway, because I have a specific risk factor, and live in a multi-generational household, I asked my principal if I could continue teaching online and just have them project me into the classroom for the seven kids at a time that will be allowed in the room in person. I ended up speaking with the director of the school yesterday and she told me I sounded scared. Without hesitation I agreed that I am indeed scared. But being able to smoothly admit that seems to have taken, let’s say, many hours over many months of introspection and reflection and mental preparation and specific resolve. Basically I had to have so much confidence that my fear was justified and that mitigating the danger was necessary that I felt like I could absorb the hit to my social status or reputation that would come from being a person who admits to being afraid. Or at least, that’s what it looks like from the inside. I know that I did the introspection and preparation, and I know that my physiological and mental reaction to being asked if I was afraid of coronavirus changed between October and February, but I obviously can’t prove that the introspection and preparation caused the change.
Social acceptability , that is what all interaction are made off.
At the beggining of the pamdemic I wore a mask for non pandemic reason and a person made a joke to me laughing “Is that for the corona virus ?” , months everyone wore them for pandemic reason , and no one made a joke about it (and probebly didn’t rembmer their previous attitude).