What will we find as the masks come off?

I was sitting in church a few weeks ago when our priest announced that the city of Framingham (where the church is located) would be lifting the indoor face mask mandate on March 7. The trend is clear. Boston, New York, Chicago, the masks are coming off. Regardless of how you feel about these protocols, we can all agree that this will open a new chapter in our daily lives. God willing, the days of understanding someone’s non-verbal reaction by reading their eyes will be subsiding. Of course, the silver lining has been that it undoubtedly has sharpened our perception skills. Perhaps I am being a bit optimistic since volatility has been the name of this pandemic, but we can all use some relief. Soon, you may not need your penguin mask otherwise known as the N-95. Perhaps our new littering vehicle, discarded masks, will afford us the opportunity for cleaner streets and parking lots. What are people thinking when they throw their used masks on the ground? Some people with a humorous instinct have an array of masks to match their clothing or send a message. Our entrepreneurial spirit lives as a mini economy was formed with mask variations. The masks actually have been useful to fend off the bitter cold during the winter months. I actually found myself using the mask to shovel snow during a recent storm despite the fact that there was not another soul for a hundred yards. The big one I am waiting for is air travel. Sitting on a cramped plane with a mask on for several hours only further reduces the quality of the experience. We can only shake our heads as the passengers remove their masks to continually sip on beverages and snacks or simply leave them off for a long pause between pretzels. Just imagine that soon all these stories, this frustration and opportunities for satire will be transitioning into memories. My daughter adds that she may have to start using Jolen again to bleach her facial hair. Do we actually remember what people look like given the coverup and elapsed time? Let’s not forget that humor has also been a part of our coping experience. One question I have asked myself for months relates to what our Armenian communities look like once the constraints are removed. COVID has slowed our activity level and created distance in our communal relationships. It has also allowed us to rationalize our challenges. Will the relaxing of protocols release pent up demand for in-person community life or have we become accustomed to “remote” life? Will the resurgence of public life give us the anticipated “bounce” or will the COVID hangover slow our recovery? A community with foresight will understand that the challenges we experienced two years ago before the long pause are still there waiting for us. The pandemic has become a convenient method of rationalizing or postponing our concerns. Humans are creatures of habit, or so we have been told. We become accustomed to the activity of our communities because they fulfill a perceived need (cultural, nourishment, socialization, spiritual growth). When those sources are cut off or constrained, we mourn the absence, but we adjust. Physical survival has some of the same instincts as social, intellectual or spiritual survival. We adapt and find new outlets or sources of strength. This should be an important topic for our community leaders to discuss and incorporate as we lift the curtain. Assuming that all will return to its previous state may be a false assumption. For example, just before the pandemic, NAASR opened its beautiful and state-of-the-art center in Belmont, Massachusetts. Shortly after the opening, the facility was closed to public events due to the pandemic. During the last two years, NAASR has adapted and in many ways expanded its reach. The utilization of streaming technology and video platforms became the only viable method of offering programming to the public. In a short period of time, the venerable organization’s programming went from the traditional in-person events to virtual or remote programming. The response was incredible. The audience not only increased but became more geographically diverse. With featured guests able to operate from the comfort of their homes or office, programs became easier and cheaper to organize. The immediate result was more programming, particularly in the summer months. Based on feedback from the audience and community, the perception of high quality programming and a sense of inclusion have been maintained. Soon, as the constraints of the pandemic are lifted, NAASR will return to in-person programming with on-site lectures and panels. It is clear, however, based on our community responses, hybrid events will become the new normal. With hundreds of new participants from remote locations who connect online because they do not reside in the Boston area, a new era has opened. What is unknown and will be discovered over the next several months is the impact of in-person attendance. Will people return to the “live” experience or does the convenience and comfort of connecting from home outweigh traveling to the center? If the in-person attendance is underwhelming, should it be viewed as a short-term transition as we re-engage or have we seen a semi-permanent change? I am certain there are many organizations experiencing the same challenges as NAASR. Our leaders should stay ahead of this by anticipating, questioning and adjusting where required. Our Diocese and Prelacy churches have also made major adjustments during the pandemic. The most significant was the introduction of streaming services on Facebook, YouTube or other platforms. On any given Sunday, one could dial in to local services. It was a necessary and proactive adjustment by the church nearly two years ago to find innovative ways to continue to bring the Word of God to the faithful. We have all been through some incredible transitions: no communion, then individualized, then receiving the host in your hand and then a return to traditional options. We have seen our Sunday Schools canceled and then reopened with masks and other protocols. Our children are resilient, but their parents are worried. As the church experienced the lifting of constraints based on local prescriptions, we should remind ourselves of our challenges before the pandemic. Church attendance had been low or in decline in most parishes. Our Sunday Schools had been impacted by the ambivalence of parents and limited commitment. It has been a joyful struggle. We are blessed by the education of every child and every worshiper, but can’t help wondering about how to make it better. This was our reality, and then the pandemic hit. The same problems are waiting at the door, but COVID is no longer the main event. Is this what we call returning to normal? We have reviewed many causes for our dilemma, but laziness or inconvenience seem to be a connecting thread. We always have time to offer our spiritual needs or be thankful in communal prayer. We delay the experiences that prepare us on this earth for eternity. In that regard, our remote badaraks, although well-intentioned and necessary, may also have an unintended consequence. It may be contributing to the “convenience” issue that keeps people away. In fact, for some it may be the perfect storm. One can participate and feel less guilty but would not have to get dressed and participate in the communal process. It reminds me of the Catholic buddy I had as a kid, whose family watched Mass on television and felt satisfied. What should the church do? Do they shut off the remote badarak feeds or slowly wean the faithful from this practice? I am happy that the option is there for those who are unable to attend physically, but is it a double-edged sword? Will a hybrid model work effectively for the church? The answers are complex but at a minimum should be an important subject of parish council, board of trustees and parish meetings. In a sense, the post-COVID constrained period will be one of discovery as our communities attempt to return to traditional functioning. There are always choices in how we engage this new horizon. One approach would be to simply open the doors and react accordingly. An alternative, which may reduce the unpredictability of the next several months, would be to invest some time in anticipating the response from the community and make adjustments to accommodate the transition. Community life requires infrastructure and organizers in educational, spiritual, cultural and political events. It also requires participants. The latter have found additional outlets in the last two years, and re-engagement may be significantly more complicated than simply “turning the lights back on.” As a result of the pandemic, the faces of our American communities have changed. Thousands of restaurants have closed. The office environment has been altered, perhaps permanently. The financial impact on families has been significant. These challenges in our daily lives force people to reevaluate priorities, how they spend their time, their talents and their treasures. The curtain is slowly rising, and we need to ensure that our precious communal life in the Armenian Diaspora remains an important need in the lives of those who have been “remote,” drifted away or in any way separated from our communities by the pandemic. This should be a priority item for every organization and their leadership.

What will we find as the masks come off?

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Stepan Piligian

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This story is FREE for you...

Stepan Piligian

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