I trust the CDC implicitly with their guidance, but I still wear a mask in public even if they say I don’t have to. I’ve been fully vaccinated and I’m feeling fine. That’s not the point. Neither is it a political statement any more than wearing a seat belt or driving sober tags me as a libtard Biden-bot.
The virus is still out there, and even though I believe my chances of being infected are less than some others, I work at a school where the rules still apply and I comply out of a sense of setting an example for the students for whom I work. I also have friends and co-workers who are susceptible to infection due to either health issues — a compromised immune system, for example — or who have family members they are living with who have had Covid-19. It’s my way of letting them know I care about both my health and theirs.
I’m reminded in a way of the various lapel pins people wear in support of some cause: AIDS, breast cancer, or any number of other things that we are to be mindful of. Wearing a simple face mask is not only symbolic, it actually does something. I also look forward to the day when I don’t have to wear it, but until then, it stays put.
It can also remind me of what how life has changed in little ways. The other day leaving work I was in the parking lot on the way to my car. I took off my mask, and a co-worker saw me. She said, “When did you grow a beard?” I replied, “A year ago.” She nodded and said, “Looks good.”