Oberlin’s Mask Policy Out of Touch, Losing Authority

Continued from page 5 that would prohibit classroom lessons about sexual orientation or gender identity in elementary school.” And although the term ‘critical race theory’ has proven itself to be a deeply unpopular one outside of a solidly left-leaning group of Americans, 75 percent of us approve of “teaching ‘the history of racism’ in public schools,” including 54 percent of Republicans, according to a Monmouth University poll. When I say that we shouldn’t take progress for granted, this is the progress I’m optimistic about — the progress that we should all have in the back of our minds when we are tempted to see politics entirely through a haze of despair and division.

It’s telling that when presented with concepts like “teaching racism” rather than “teaching critical race theory,” public opinion starts to shift. Unfortunately, I think that there’s a common sentiment on the left, especially one that I often see expressed amongst people of my age group, that if people are unable to look past the technicalities of language, they aren’t worth inviting into the cause.

When considering how to advise Oberlin students specifically on this issue, I found myself thinking principally of language. I don’t want to end on a self-evident message such as “vote blue.” Instead, I’d do better to remind you to express your political opinions as beliefs rather than slogans. A fundamental conviction I have about politics is that about 90 percent of the decisions made in poll booths are directly related to the desire to protect one’s money and one’s children. In this case, people really just want the best for their kids. So the next time you find yourself talking to someone who agrees with Mike Loychik or Jean Schmidt, think of them as someone misguidedly trying to protect something defective rather than attacking something just.

Zoey Birdsong

Columnist

Leaving Oberlin can often feel like entering another dimension. In the rest of the world, most people don’t introduce themselves with their pronouns or use phrases like “aural skills” and “head cook” as part of their vernacular. And, for the most part, people outside of Oberlin don’t wear masks. When I went home for spring break, the near complete absence of masks in my hometown surprised me. I figured that a good percentage of people had stopped wearing them in the grocery store by now, but I began to question my habits when I saw people I respect going without masks.

By now, most of us know that Oberlin tends to fall on the cautious side when it comes to COVID-19 mitigation policies. Oberlin required outdoor masks last fall long after the world agreed that outdoor masking wasn’t necessary. Many people have had to perform masked when they probably didn’t need to. Some of these policies, along with the administration’s vague messaging around them, have been a source of legitimate frustration for many students. These guidelines have been criticized for being more performative than they are effective. Many times over the past two years, ObieSafe has made itself the butt of the joke for being too strict and out of touch with reality.

Currently, Oberlin still requires masks in all public and indoor spaces, including among small groups of friends, even though most local governments around the country have stopped requiring them anywhere. Oberlin’s masking habits are slowly starting to catch up with the rest of the country even though the rules aren’t. Some Oberlin students have gotten comfortable forgoing masks in public areas like libraries, restrooms, and food lines. While our rates of masking are still much higher than most places, I expect that this pattern will accelerate for the rest of the semester.

Despite this shift, masks are still important. We’ve all heard it a million times, but there are at-risk people all around us — immunocompromised people and parents of children under 5 don’t want our germs. COVID-19 also has the potential to cause considerable illness for anybody, even those of us who are vaccinated and boosted. At the very least, wearing a mask is good manners, just like saying “please” and “thank you.” We can’t control what the rest of the country is doing, but we still have a chance to make a difference for at-risk people in Oberlin.

If an area is open to anyone, masks should be required in that space so it remains accessible to truly everyone. This includes areas such as classrooms, libraries, and food lines, as well as those that have been subject to recent policy shifts such as dorm bathrooms and athletic facilities. I have faith that most Oberlin students will follow these rules. There will be more and more people that ignore them, but that doesn’t mean the rules shouldn’t exist.

However, masks should not be institutionally required for more private settings, such as small gatherings among close friends in dorm rooms. Currently, the College’s guidelines require students to wear masks during any gathering with those they don’t live with. Nobody adheres to this rule. ObieSafe’s mask mandates regarding small, informal gatherings do nothing to change student behavior and make the administration seem out of touch. These unrealistic guidelines also discourage students from following more legitimate mandates. Rather than maintaining the mask requirement for casual gatherings, Oberlin should implement an education and awareness initiative that encourages students to focus on communicating with each other and making smart decisions based on the situation. We should treat masking like any other issue that concerns respect and consent. A shift like this probably won’t change student behavior, but it would make ObieSafe strategies more in tune with reality.

Like most issues, the issue of mask mandates is complex. Mask mandates need to exist in Oberlin because their absence will hurt people in our community. It’s equally true that the Oberlin administration can’t expect unrealistic, far-reaching mask mandates to be sustainable if the world continues to move away from masks. I’m not here to propose a comprehensive plan that pleases all parties involved because I don’t think one exists. I merely wish to point out that cracks are starting to emerge in our current system, and we need to start thinking about a different plan.

This Week: Fashion at Oberlin Through the DecadesThis Week

Wiley Smith

This Week Editor

Illustration by Anisa Vietze

The decade of the contrast-collared ringer shirt, low-rise jeans, and bomber jackets. These looks may not feel too distant from the outfits we see around campus today. The early 2000s have made a comeback, recalling the simplicity of retro style, dominated by color blocking and secondary colors — green, orange, and purple — paired with creme. The more glamorized revival of this era, dubbed the “Y2K aesthetic,” leans into bubblegum pink and baby blue. You may have seen the butterfly hair clips, fuzzy purses, and platform sandals and felt the urge to set the ringtone on your BlackBerry phone to “Bye Bye Bye.”

Although it does not seem like many Obies were actually serving Y2K Paris Hilton at the time, is it more fun to embody history or a glossy retelling? Personally, there is a special place in my heart for the long point-collared shirt. However, I am drawn to the allure of tank tops and low-rise jeans, where a belt is the only statement piece I need.

All photos in this section are courtesy of the Instagram archive @oberlin_in_the_00s. See page 9 for decade lookbook. The decade of Converse, checker plaid, and sleeveless zip-up hoodies. Where we’ve advanced in photo quality, we’ve backtracked in cringe. Personally, this was the fashion era that made me recoil the most, simply because I associate these looks with my time in middle school. In the archives, I found shameless combinations of patterns — stripes with plaid — serving very much Disney Channel original cast. To its credit, this was quite a relaxed era of fashion. When you grew too hot in your buffalo plaid flannel, you tied it around your waist. Maybe if you wanted to dress up, you switched out your Low Top Converse for a chunky heel. My expectations were low for the “rawr XD” era of fashion, although to Oberlin’s credit I didn’t see a single mustache-print T-shirt — for that, I’m thankful.

Solarity photo courtesy of Ben Garfinkel. Band photo courtesy of Jake Rivas. Remaining photos courtesy of Kaïa Austin. See page 9 for decade lookbook. The decade of jewelry maximalism, colorful eyeliner, earth tone cargo pants, and long flowing skirts. This era is all about layering: corset crop over long-sleeve button-up, crew neck under a short-sleeve collar, and necklace after necklace after necklace. The mass production of “fast fashion” has created an ethical problem, generating waste and environmental strain and employing exploitative labor practices. Thankfully, many students opt for cost-effective, “zero waste” options such as thrifting at Volunteers in North Olmsted or the Oberlin Free Store. Those who can afford it may attempt to buy from sustainable brands. Many of us, although morally embarrassed to admit it, have probably had a SHEIN moment. In the digital sphere, microtrends rise and fade within weeks. Sometimes you buy the waist chain from SHEIN because it’s only $1.50 and you pretend to be shocked when it turns your skin green and breaks a month later. We live and we learn.

Marbled sheer shirts photo courtesy of Sylvie Weinstein. Monochrome black outfit photo courtesy of Khadijah Halliday. Tan vest, floral skirt photo courtesy of Rachel Wolchok. Blue eyeliner photo courtesy of Cecelia Blake. See page 9 for decade lookbook.