Monthly Archives: March 2023

Face Masks and Me

I was a proponent of wearing face masks everywhere during the height of the pandemic. Today, I’m still on the side of donning one in crowded indoor spaces.

Here in Arizona, I have become recognizable because I’m one of the very few people who continues to wear a mask. I was in line at the grocery store and a stranger asked me if I had worked out that morning. He could see the quizzical look in my eyes above the bridge of the mask. He explained that he usually sees me at the gym but missed me this particular morning.

When I go to see plays at the theater, I buy tickets, when possible, for the one day when masks are required. If I go on days when masks are not required, I stand out as odd in wearing a mask. I feel some sense of the recognition of my right to wear a mask when the recording before the play begins: In addition to providing the usual information about exits and such, this recording now also includes a request that patrons respect those of us who choose to wear a mask.

The recent dueling research reports on whether masks are effective in protecting one from a swarm of viruses have given me pause about my decision to defiantly continue to wear a mask. In fact, the reports may be giving me an excuse to stop wearing a mask as often as I currently do.

Although I think that there ought to be a benefit in wearing a mask, I’m tired of wearing one. My equivocation about the mask makes me feel like a person who professes to be religious but only practices it when it’s convenient or out of desperation for an answered prayer. I’m faithful in wearing a mask in places like the gym where people are grunting and exhaling to the extreme. However, I’ve not been consistent in wearing a mask when I have visitors or go to someone else’s place. Until very recently, I wore a mask when enclosed in a car with another person, as well as upon entering restaurants and when the servers were at the table, only removing my mask to eat. I’ve finally given up on wearing a mask in restaurants.

N95 face mask

My masks are supposed to be high-quality but they are not the recommended N95. They are KN95. When I read that one researcher said that if the mask is not N95 and worn correctly, you might as well not wear one at all. I’m questioning whether what I’ve been doing lately is an exercise in futility. Yet, I fear that if I abandon wearing a mask and then become infected, I might think that I “shoulda” kept wearing a mask.  

I wonder what you are doing in regard to mask wearing. Are you wearing a mask religiously, judiciously, or not at all?

Imposter or Underestimated?

I’ve heard women I consider to be inspirational role models talk about having what is known as imposter syndrome, so when I came across the article “Why Everyone Feels Like They’re faking It” in the February 13 & 20 issue of The New Yorker, I was eager to read it. I have also heard women diagnose other women’s perceived lack of confidence as imposter syndrome. Because I’ve heard such comments so often, it seemed like a club to which a lot of women belonged. I never have heard a man say that he was a member of this club.

The concept was originally called “Impostor Phenomenon” by the two women who explored the idea and wrote the first paper on it. These women bristle at the current “Imposter Syndrome” nomenclature because they didn’t see what they were exploring as a pathological disorder.

The idea behind the phenomenon or syndrome is one’s feeling that they are a fraud or phony because it seems others are fooled into thinking the person is better than they assess themselves to be. Having to mask who one thinks she is, or her real self in regard to skills and abilities, is said to elicit feelings of inadequacy or lack of confidence. Therefore, one is an imposter in one’s own assessment.

The underlying original theoretical assumption or concept for one feeling this way was based on the experiences of the authors, themselves, and the women they interviewed. They concluded that the root cause of this phenomenon was the “disjunction between the messages received” from one’s family, in reference to abilities, and the messages one feared receiving from the world if the world could see behind the mask. The messages from the family could be positive or negative. When there was high praise at home, the women would seek external validation all the while doubting the veracity of the validation. If the messages from family were negative, the women would seek the positive validation that they didn’t receive at home.

As I read the article, I kept thinking about how I had never been able to relate to the feeling of masking or being an imposter or fraud as some have described their feelings. It’s not that I don’t experience a crisis of confidence sometimes. I just never felt that I was masking who I am. When I lacked confidence, everybody knew it because I didn’t try to hide it. If anything, I have been self-deprecating rather than pretending to be better than I think I am. I never felt like a fraud. What I did feel was that others underestimated me, and I had the burden of continuing to prove that I was competent and much more than their estimate of me.

As I continued to read the article, my feelings were validated in a reported exchange between two White women where the conclusion was that feeling like an impostor was a “white-lady thing” because their competence was taken for granted, causing unease if one were not as competent as might be assumed.

Apparently, my feelings reflect the feelings of some other women of color. As a Black woman, no amount of masking removes the racial bias, implicit or not, that colors every interaction regardless of the color of the person with whom you are interacting. Instead of feeling as if you were an imposter, it was most likely the case that others believed you, as a woman of color, to be an imposter rather than possess the requisite skills, abilities, and qualifications.

This is not to say that some people of color do not have fears of being unmasked to reveal inadequacies. The author of The New Yorker article mentions that research studies have repeatedly shown that imposter syndrome disproportionately affects people of color.

Some women are taking to task the idea of imposter syndrome. In an article published by the Harvard Business Review,Ruchika Tulshyan and Jodi-Ann Burey argue that the label implies a crisis of self-confidence among women, failing to recognize real obstacles professional women—especially women of color—face. Tulshyan  and Burey write, “Imposter syndrome directs our view toward fixing women at work instead of fixing the places where women work.”

Pauline Clance and Suzanne Imes authored the original work on what they called impostor phenomenon in 1978. In interviews for The New Yorker article, they agree with many of the critiques, given the fact that the “original sample and parameters were limited.” Their focus was primarily on “family dynamics and gender socialization rather than on systemic racism and other legacies of inequality.”

Being a Black woman may not be the only reason that I’ve not felt like an imposter. My experience may be related to my generation. The author of The New Yorker article on imposter syndrome notes that she asked her mother who is 78 if the concept of imposter syndrome resonated with her and her mother said that it did not. For further explanation, her mother expressed feelings similar to the ones I expressed above, namely that women in her generation (and mine) “were likelier to feel the opposite—that we were being underestimated.”

Where Everybody Knows Your Name

It seems that all the young men at the front desk of the gym are named Brian. When I mentioned this coincidence to one of them, he said, “Yes, there are a lot of Brians around here.”

A lot of them may have the name Brian, but only one of them was our special Brian that meant so much to my fellow gym-goers and me. Like the other Brians, his job was to scan our membership card when we entered the gym. That’s all he had to do and periodically someone might have a problem with their card or have a question about some activity. But mostly, it was just standing behind a tall desk just inside the doors and electronically scanning the card for everyone who entered.

If one scanned the faces of gym-goers, one could see that everyone was different. We were focused intently on our disparate goals of self—our work-out goals, our life agendas, our schedules, our problems. But when Brian smiled at each of us, called us by name, wished us a good workout, we were joined in a community of regulars like the regulars at Sam’s bar in Cheers, the sitcom that aired between 1982 and 1993.

All the Brians could follow our Brian’s script, but they don’t. Our Brian seemed genuinely happy to see us and he called us by name. I looked forward to his smile as he said, “Good to see you, Miss Gwen.” Though I was not conscious of how I looked forward to Brian’s greetings and goodbyes, now that he is not there, I miss him and what he shared.  

Recently, Brian had the opportunity to realize his life’s dream. Though extremely happy for him, many of my fellow gym-goers and I have commiserated with one another about a feeling of loss that he’s not there in his usual place when we arrive. We miss that he expected us to show up the next day. We miss the smile on his face as we entered the door. He created that welcoming ambience that keeps people coming back.

The absence of Brian makes me think about how small gestures of acknowledgement can be significant gifts of validation. Ordinary gestures such as a smile, a wave, translate into, “I see you.” Calling someone by name translates as “You’re special.”

We’re all the same in the ways we miss Brian. Because…

“Sometimes you want to go
where everybody knows your name
and they’re always glad you came.
You want to go where people know
people are all the same.
You want to go where
everybody knows your name.”

Theme song from Cheers