When be kind means be quiet: accountability in the age of COVID-19

Yesterday Governor Hogan locked down Maryland, and a middle-aged white man on the internet explained to me why I really needed to be kinder to the people refusing to comply.

It was in a neighborhood forum, this explaining. Normally, I avoid forums like the plague. I’m not terribly interested in monitoring local applications for planning permissions. I’m not much of a joiner. Plus, the inevitable comment-section arguments give me flashbacks to the delightful Facebook group set up by parents at a school I worked at a few years ago, which I was not a member of (teachers automatically barred, naturally) but from which I saw screenshots, thanks to a sympathetic teacher-parent ally. There, parents discussed how very awful every teacher, without exception, was, at length- and often, with reference to their physical appearance: Look at the state of her shoes. He needs to get a haircut. Puke emoji. (It goes without saying few of their ‘concerns’ were ever raised face to face with the actual educators involved; no- that would take all the fun out of it. Side note: parents- please don’t do this. Thank you.)

So: forums aren’t really my thing, but I recently downloaded an app in a bid to see what we could do to help our neighbors during the COVID-19 pandemic. Largely, the forum has been a pleasant (and hope re-affirming) place to be. People are putting teddy bears in their windows for passing children to count (incidentally: the post ‘Bears on Madison’ resulted in a terrifically entertaining thread beginning with ‘BEARS?!! That’s all we need! Call the police!’ A few frantic responses deep, the original poster, with impeccable comic timing, drily added, ‘they’re stuffed animals, folks: calm down.’) People are delivering groceries for their elderly or vulnerable neighbors. People are offering help with home-schooling. People are being, despite their own anxiety and fear, pretty bloody brilliant. And pretty bloody kind.

There’s always one, though, isn’t there? Or, in the case of our little corner of the DMV, a group of ones. Last week all Montgomery County playgrounds were closed. Many were taped off, and all had notices hammered into the ground advising parents that children must not play on the equipment, given that COVID-19 can survive on surfaces for a not insignificant period. Yesterday, our governor issued a Stay At Home order which effectively puts the state into a lockdown similar to that in the UK. DC and Virginia followed suit. Mostly, people around here seem to have been adhering to social distancing rules before even the order was official, but there have been small groups of individuals choosing not to comply with the advice from public health officials which, as of yesterday, is now the law. You’ve probably seen the same sort of thing, wherever you are: people gathering in groups of more than 10, parents continuing to take children to playgrounds, groups playing contact sports, shoppers shoving into each other in front of the supermarket shelves, sunbathers heading to the beach. This non-compliance was the subject of discussion in the neighborhood forum. Specifically: that many of the smaller, non county-run playgrounds (for example, those maintained by the privately-owned townhouse development we live on) are still being used, albeit by a small number of people.

This issue is something I’ve been increasingly frustrated by. To be clear: we live in a spacious, leafy suburb populated with townhouses and older colonial-style houses. We are damned lucky. Residents of this area have plentiful outdoor space- there’s a park, with woods, and a stream, and even deer, plus gardens, and balconies. The houses themselves are fairly large. In short: this is not about people who have severely limited options for getting outdoor exercise or space away from other humans. This is not about people who are living in unsanitary living conditions. These are not people living (ordinarily) in financially precarious households who have limited options, period. In the case of what’s happening right now in our neighborhood, this is about wealthy white people not playing by the rules.

Moreover: I taught for twelve years and have nieces and nephews. I understand being cooped up in a house with young children is no picnic. I take my hat off to everyone parenting through a pandemic. But it frustrates me to see a small number of people continuing to choose to let their children roam over the equipment, despite all advice and regulation to the contrary, in the same way it frustrates me to see people gathering in groups or barging into each other in the supermarkets or coughing into the faces of front-line staff (something that’s sadly happened both here and in the UK). I don’t believe they’re unaware of the danger, nor the government-issued mandates in effect (if you have a mobile phone in Maryland, for example, you got an emergency text-message yesterday outlining the rules, and the punishments for flouting them, in no uncertain terms). Other families with kids are abiding by the rules put in place (hence the popularity of going on a bear hunt which involves no touching of any kind of surface).

Lots of people in the neighborhood, as evidenced by the forums, are doing their very best to protect the most vulnerable. So why isn’t everybody?

The forum discussion centered around ways to remind residents not to use the playgrounds. Should we ask the HOA, for example, to put up notices? Could we put up notices ourselves? Could the local town councils be of any help? Some commenters were more angry than others. I think we’re all tired of messing around, one person wrote. We need to do something, now. Mostly, people were measured. There was great attention paid to being fair, and to being kind. Nobody was in favor of confronting anybody, singling any one person or group out, or ‘naming and shaming.’ People did express disappointment and frustration (indeed: multiple commenters phrased it exactly that way: I feel frustrated by this. I feel disappointed.) but there was no suggestion that the people contradicting the rules were bad people. There was no name-calling or demeaning language. It was all very grown-up. All very ‘I feel statements.’ All very self-help enlightened. In short: these were people who disagreed with what their fellow neighbors were doing, who were frustrated and angry and anxious and scared, but who were conducting themselves civilly and fairly and with the purpose of helping others-not vindication- in mind. After my experiences with school Facebook forums, I am particularly sensitive to comments sections: I flee from the merest whiff of trouble or confrontation like a spooked horse, all rolling eyes and frothing mouth (I’m working on it). So when I say it was fair, and measured, and kind, I don’t say it lightly.

I thought it was kind, that is, until I received a message from a man who proceeded to tell me that as he had lived through much, much worse he thought it a red flag that the topic was being discussed at all. He knew, he explained, from his experience, how these things could escalate into a witch hunt, though he made pains to add obviously I don’t mean you. He signed off by adding that it was very important we (me) should be kind.

I was sort of flabbergasted: the forum had been extremely civil. I’d say it was more than civil- I’d go as far as to say it was kind, on the basis of my working definition of kind: that is, acting in a way that demonstrates a care and concern for other people, and considering other people before you speak and act.

My confusion stemmed from the fact that this man had previously left a rude and rather passive-aggressive and decidedly unkind comment on the original post, which I’d taken pains to reply to in a way that validated his concerns (veiled though they were) and that was fair and reasonable, despite an initial knee-jerk defensiveness when I spotted his message. I’d sat, in fact, for half an hour, thinking of how to respond to his comment in a way that gave him the benefit of the doubt and was kind. Now, he seemed to have forgotten entirely that his sole contribution to a reasonable discussion had been to lob in a passive-aggressive insult designed to shame without explanation (or, dare I say, kindness). Now, he was at great pains to explain as to why a) he’d had it worse, so we just needed to calm down, and b) why holding others accountable was, in fact, unkind.

First I should say: I’m genuinely sorry he’s seen worse. I don’t know the man. Perhaps he’s been to war, or lived in a war zone, or done time or been abused or persecuted or seen some truly awful shit no-one should have to see. I’m really sorry he’s had to live with that, that he has to continue to live with that. But his having had a bad experience, a terrible experience even, does not mean that the current situation is not bad, or not terrible. It does not mean that all those people feeling anxious, or scared, or angry or frustrated right now are wrong to feel that way. For many people, this may well be the worst thing that’s ever happened to them. There are people losing jobs, losing healthcare coverage, losing loved ones. For others, it’s just an unprecedented and terrifying period of uncertainty and isolation. No: this is a hard situation, and we’re all allowed to feel how we feel about it. The fact this man’s ‘lived through worse’ does not negate that.

One kind of suffering does not invalidate another.

Second: since when did ‘be kind’ become code for ‘don’t challenge’?

I could write a whole essay about how in recent years in particular the phrase be kind has been co-opted by those who don’t want their beliefs and behaviors questioned. I could write even more about how this is a message frequently impressed upon marginalized groups, who are sold the lie that if they just couch their protest in a way that’s more acceptable, they’ll be listened to. I could discuss at length how interesting it is that, without exception, those choosing to break the quarantine rules in our neighborhood are all white and middle-class and clearly confident that the cops won’t be called, or that it wouldn’t be a big deal if they were; I could write about the staggering level of privilege those choices and assumptions reveal. But for the sake of brevity, I’m going to come back again to my own definition of kind, which is as follows:

Kindness:

Acting in a way which demonstrates care for others.

Thinking about others before we speak and act.

Kindness, then, is not simply about keeping quiet in order to avoid upsetting others. It is not about refusing to challenge other people for fear they won’t like what you have to say. Kindness is not about keeping the peace at all costs. After all, your doctor doesn’t refrain from telling you about your cancer on the grounds you won’t be happy to hear the news.

The Anti-Vaxx movement is a good example. I believe you should vaccinate your children. I believe this because of the wealth of scientific literature which shows the benefits of vaccination and because I recognize that I am not a public health official nor a physician and thus do not possess the level of scientific understanding necessary to reasonably suggest I know better than they do. I am also married to a physician and count one GP, two pediatricians, one surgeon, one physician assistant and one retired nurse within my immediate family, and take their lived professional experience and expertise seriously.

Not everyone agrees with me. There are parents who choose not to vaccinate their children. There are parents who want their unvaccinated children to attend nurseries and schools and extracurricular activities, despite there being a risk to immune-compromised children who might also attend those activities.Here’s where my definition of kindness comes in. Do I have the right, based on my feelings about anti-vaxxers, to harass or bully or belittle them, either in person or online, to conduct a ‘witch hunt’ or name and shame them? By my definition, no- not really, no matter how frustrated I might feel.

However: it is unkind of me to insist that they don’t bring their unvaccinated child to a playgroup? Is it unkind of me to support a bill which makes vaccination compulsory for children attending public schools and youth groups? Is it unkind of me to tell a parent considering leaving their child unvaccinated that I believe that choice to be a foolish and potentially selfish one? For the sake of being kind, should I refrain from saying anything about anti-vaxxers, ever? For the sake of being kind, can I only disagree privately, and in my own head, lest I be accused of ‘pointing the finger’ or conducting a ‘witch hunt’ or, worst of all- being considered unkind?

I didn’t reply to the forum-man, because I sensed there was no response (other than me admitting I was wrong to say anything in the first place, and honestly, at this point in my life, I’m just so bloody sick and tired of having to be quiet) which would be acceptable to him. And, in fact, I decided that perhaps forums just aren’t the place for me to be without losing my mind. I can help out my neighbors without being on that forum.

I come back to this incident, though, because as much as I want to shrug it off, there’s a part of me left feeling like a killjoy, like I’ve no sympathy for parents, or that I’ve been unfair (objective achieved, man of the email: bravo). There’s a part of me which wonders: should I just stay quiet about this stuff? Should I have just not said anything at all? Should I keep my frustration to myself? Should I take my fear and my anxiety about my immune-compromised friends and elderly family members and squash it all down, because at least we’re not in a war zone?

But then I remind myself: this is a global pandemic. People are dying: it’s not being a doom-monger to state that fact. When the forum-man chose to copy a phrase from the original post- acting in direct contradiction to advice from public health officials- and choose to place it, pointedly, in speech marks, he did so to suggest those words were some sort of opinion only; that they’re questionable, or open to interpretation: but- they’re not. They’re not merely my opinion: just ask the governor of Maryland, or the mayor of Washington D.C., who’s already had one of her staffers die from COVID-19. Just ask somebody living in Italy or Spain or New York City. Parents choosing to take their children onto the equipment are acting in direct contradiction to the advice of the governor and public health officials. As of today, they can be fined and/or charged with a misdemeanor for doing so. Similarly, groups of more than 10, pushy shoppers, beach-goers, face-coughers: it’s not subjective. You’re acting in a way that is putting other people at risk.

If kindness is about caring for other people, about thinking before we speak and act, then challenging those who continue to put vulnerable people at risk during the COVID-19 pandemic is the kindest thing we can do. We don’t need to holler or name-call or shame, and we absolutely should not do this. But we do need to speak up in a reasonable way to challenge those who endanger the lives of others, and we do need to prioritize the well-being of vulnerable people over the hurt feelings of a small (and privileged) group who refuse to accept the limitations we’re all being asked to live by. Asking our communities how we can do better is not ‘conducting a witch hunt.’ Reminding your older parents they’re not invincible, insisting on social distancing in public, asking your residents’ association to put up signs in shared areas- these are not ‘red flags.’ It’s about time we stop using the phrase be kind as a way to silence people who point out where we can all do better.

If you want to be kind, speak up. Your community will thank you for it.