While I watched my two-year-old zoom down the slide, a mom remarked, “You must not be from around here.” I was dressed in standard mom attire—an old t-shirt and leggings—just like her, who wore a baseball cap and yoga pants. I couldn’t help but wonder what made me seem out of place to her. My thoughts drifted to her blonde hair and her equally blonde child, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that her comment stemmed from the darker skin of my biracial son.
Truth be told, I had only traveled a mere seven minutes to reach my favorite playground in Coronado, often called “the jewel of San Diego.” From the top of the play structure, the bay and downtown stretched out before us, with boats gliding across the shimmering water. It was a beautiful Friday morning, my day off work. As I climbed to the top with my son and peered through the toddler-sized telescope, the fresh air and warm sun momentarily distracted me from the pandemic that had confined my family to our home for almost ten months. The playground was supposed to be my little escape… or so I thought.
“You’re wearing a mask,” the mom said, pulling me from my reverie. “No one from here wears one.” My initial sense of relief evaporated, replaced by disbelief. She openly admitted to coming to the playground early to avoid the “regulars” who strutted in wearing Lululemon attire, pushing their fancy strollers, coffee in hand, and sans masks.
After months of COVID-induced closures, my family had adhered to city regulations since the beginning. We had been “safer at home” with three young kids in our compact 900-square-foot space. Finally, the playground reopened, and with it, the restrictions: the caution tape was removed, the swings were freed from their zip ties. Two signs at the entrances listed the rules, with the first stating, “Everyone over the age of 2 must wear a mask.” My youngest, at two years old, was willing to wear his mask if there was a fruit snack involved, while I had to coax my five-year-old to keep hers on.
A week later, I returned to find the playground busier than before. It was now 10:30 a.m. I masked up myself and my son before heading to the sandbox, where five moms were supervising twelve kids. All the children looked adorable in their trendy outfits, yet none of them wore masks. It seemed the “locals” had taken over.
“Do you all have your masks?” I asked with a friendly tone, but they just stared back. One mom looked bewildered by my interruption of their coffee chat.
“What do you mean?” she asked, and I replied, “It’s a requirement for the playground.”
“Oh, well we didn’t know,” she laughed dismissively.
Didn’t know? I thought in disbelief. I couldn’t decide what irritated me more: whether she was being dishonest or just rude.
“There’s a sign right there,” I pointed out, indicating the rule just a couple of feet away. “It’s a city requirement.”
“Well, we’ll stay away from you,” she said, rolling her eyes. I wasn’t seeking her approval or friendship, but I was merely trying to adhere to the guidelines designed to keep our community safe.
This encounter wasn’t isolated; I’ve faced similar confrontations about mask usage at the playground. What I’ve noticed is a prevalent sense of entitlement—a mentality of “I can do what I want.” To maintain peace and prioritize safety, I now carry a supply of disposable masks, ready to offer them to parents who claim they “didn’t know” or “forgot.” While nine times out of ten, my gesture is rejected, I’m unbothered by the eye rolls. They can scoff at me all they want; wearing a mask is about more than just my family’s safety—it’s about protecting the entire community. We’re in the midst of a global health crisis, and COVID doesn’t discriminate based on neighborhood exclusivity.
Perhaps I’ve mistakenly equated privilege with entitlement, but maybe not. To those ignoring the guidelines, I suggest they cover their smug faces with a mask because their privilege is showing, and it’s not a flattering look. If you’re interested in further insights on this topic, check out this post here.
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In summary, my experiences at the playground have highlighted the tension between personal choices and community responsibility during a pandemic. The disregard for mask mandates by some parents has created conflict, but my commitment to safety remains unwavering. I carry masks to offer a solution, even if it’s often rejected. It’s crucial to remember that in a public health crisis, every precaution counts, and everyone has a role to play in safeguarding our community.
Keyphrase: Playground mask confrontation
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