What is essential?

Over the past few days, I have been reflecting on the question, "What is essential?" and its corollaries, "What is a necessity?" and "How much risk am I willing to take?"

For weeks, now months, I have been reading about essential workers, essential businesses, and essential services in Coronatime. Our definitions of these have changed or been changed for us. Before COVID-19, would anyone have considered a supermarket employee earning minimum wage essential? Would anyone have seen distilleries and breweries as essential when they produced only liquid spirits instead of liquid hand sanitizer? And would anyone have guessed that the bureau of motor vehicles, a necessary evil in normal times, would be classified as nonessential, at least temporarily?

At work, we have been working to transform in-person orientation programs to virtual ones. It is unrealistic and cruel to have a six-hour orientation session like we used to, especially without the free pizza. We humans have not yet transitioned to full androids, even though we may feel like we live in a screen, displaced from time and space. So, what information is essential that we must include and share live and what information is important but nonessential that can be shared in other ways? And how do we tell a staff members that their content isn't necessarily essential without hurting their feelings or professional ego? I think we have done a pretty good job so far being both creative and sensitive in this transition (no one has sent any nastygrams to staff or participants yet).

It's different, though, when the question of what is essential becomes personal. After our governor's announcement on May 8 that salons could reopen on May 15, I received a text message from my longtime stylist asking me if I would like to come in on the grand reopening day at Noon. Looking at my sprouting gray hair and lengthening locks staring back at me in the Teams video conference I was in, I immediately responded, "Yes! And I'll wear a mask!" She booked me, but as a new week began, my excitement waned and anxiety crept in. Is a haircut essential? Or is it vanity? Kara will attempt to keep me safe by wearing a mask and following other cleaning protocols, but will I really be able to wear a mask and get my hair colored, washed, cut and dried with it on? Will I put others at risk if I can't wear a mask for the duration? Will a curtain between chairs be enough to keep the viral particles away from us? And what about the ventilation system in the first floor of this old house that is a salon?

I never thought I would have to think so critically about something that was once a regularly reoccurring event on my calendar with a professional whose expertise and company I enjoy. I sought counsel from friends and coworkers, all of whom had different opinions. I asked Kara about what safety protocols would be in place. I consulted friends again. And I fretted some more. Like so many others, I have been absorbing the message, "We have to get our economy moving again." But at what cost, to myself and others? These aren't only practical questions for me but also moral questions.

Good lighting hides the gray!

Ultimately, I decided not to keep the appointment. Kara understood and was supportive. My hair will get grayer and longer, and when the time is right, I want to be confident that my vanity won't put someone in harm's way. I had to do what was right for me, something that is not always comfortable. At the same time, answering this essential question is something I'm going to have to practice more as opportunities present themselves—and the answers to the same scenarios may change depending on how this pandemic unfolds.

Who doesn't want to go to a restaurant with friends and sit on the patio with a margarita in hand? The celebratory margarita or beer at the conclusion of orientation day with my coworker is the thing I will miss most about having in-person orientations! Speaking of essential, I'm still struggling to make myself go to the grocery store, now at least two weeks overdue, for some basic needs, like fruits and vegetables.

I think the grocery store checks all the boxes: essential and necessary, but somewhat low risk. Answering yes raises a set of other questions, for sure, but I'll save those for another entry. They're not essential or necessary now.