I have taken to glaring at the unmasked. I pointedly pull up my scarf every time I see one of them, a gesture of pious reproof. A woman brings her dog to the park, without any covering on her face, and I squint at her as she runs on the circular path, huffing and puffing all the while, the dog beside her. I sit down on a bench and suddenly hear her running after the dog, calling its name, because it’s now running away and bounding up to a man at one of the chess tables. I think the woman realises she has fucked up, and she is desperately calling out to the dog and she will now have to venture close to another human, unmasked. I turn and glare and point my phone towards her as she moves and darts around the seated man, trying not to get close and to get the joyful, bouncy dog back to her side. I don’t actually record anything but I know she sees me and she does and I can see her becoming more flustered, perhaps wondering if she’s going to end up on some neighbourhood watch site about those who dare move without their masks. She runs away quickly from the park, her now leashed dog behind her. Good, I think. Run away and never do this again.
Idiot, I think. People who unleash their dogs often think they’re letting the animals express some free-spirited dogginess, but the truth is that a freely roaming dog might suddenly startled into running across a street or towards humans and other dogs, with unforeseen consequences.
Idiot, I think. If you’re not masked or have one handy, and you’re stupid enough to let your dog off its leash, you’ll find yourself having to move towards others, unprotected.
I am good, I have a mask on. I am good; I will make the unmasked squirm and suffer in their shame.
The woman is also of Asian descent, as far as I can tell, and my smugness is tempered with the understanding that there is a new version of the Yellow Peril panic and hysteria sweeping this country. I’m irritated with her for so many things: for jogging without a mask, for unleashing her dog, and I know she’s likely to feel the sting of exclusion so many times. And yet, thinking of the unleashing I think, Idiot.
Elsewhere and at other times, I seek to reassure Asians, which is to say, those identifiably East Asian and not my brown-skinned South Asian sort that I am not one of those who would discriminate against them, no, no, not I. I’m one of the good ones, really I am and sometimes I find myself almost cutting into their paths, hoping they will see my nodding head and smiling eyes, as I melt into a mushy desire to do good. Here there can be no analysis, only a desire to let you know I see you and I am among the good ones, I bear no hatred towards you, only the opposite. Most of them walk quickly through the neighbourhood, trying not to make eye contact, missing the sight of the woman fervently bobbing in their direction. And if they do see me perhaps they think Who is this nut? Get away from me.
On the way to the store down the street, I see another woman of Asian descent with a small, barking dog, across the street from me. And the dog barks and barks and barks at everything in sight and the woman is trying to control it and hold it close to her. A Black woman is walking by, on my side of the street and, I think, trying to cross over to where the Asian woman is walking but the dog is still barking and barking and she snaps something, I think, and then, “You need to keep it at home.”
And the Asian woman crosses the street to the side now diagonally across from me and starts to walk away very quickly. And I think, looking at the Black woman, Wait, what did she say just before the bit about home? And I dart back and forth on my side of the street for a few steps and then resolve to find out and to make things better and I start to cross and then cross again all the while calling out, “M’am, M’am, excuse me.” And the Asian woman walks even faster and I keep going after her and there is an older white man between us who turns and stares at me, clearly befuddled and I think, quickly, Are you okay? Okay, you seem okay and finally the Asian woman turns and says, with a tight voice, “Is something wrong?” And I ask, “Was she rude to you?” I have no idea what I will do if the answer is yes, and it dawns on me that chasing her down was not perhaps the best thing and was I going to say, I’m sorry that happened to you because I am good that way. And she shakes her head and I think says no and walks on, and the man glances at me, and I walk back towards the store.
Both the Asian woman and the white man are more than likely affiliated with the university and I am an unaffiliated rat bastard brown woman and the Black woman is likely to be unaffiliated and there have long been historic ruptures between university people and the townies and the university has gobbled up masses of land with no regard to those who have lived here for generations, mostly Black, but there is also the Black elite that has colluded with the university to clean up the area in favour of massive gentrification which will push out the unwashed masses and that is why Mike Nichols once famously said that in Hyde Park Black and White unite against the poor.
In only a few minutes, I have hurled my body across the pavements and the streets and across that entire tormented history of everything.
For more in the Pandemic series, see the category.
Don’t plagiarise any of this, in any way. I have used legal resources to punish and prevent plagiarism, and I am ruthless and persistent. I make a point of citing people and publications all the time: it’s not that hard to mention me in your work, and to refuse to do so and simply assimilate my work is plagiarism. You don’t have to agree with me to cite me properly; be an ethical grownup, and don’t make excuses for your plagiarism. Read and memorise “On Plagiarism.” There’s more forthcoming, as I point out in “The Plagiarism Papers.” If you’d like to support me, please donate and/or subscribe, or get me something from my wish list. Thank you.
Image: Last Judgement, Hell, Fra Angelico, c. 1431