What’s in a face?

The Boston Globe reported recently that a small group of neo-Nazis gathered outside the New Hampshire State House in Concord. Wearing facemasks, they held a banner proclaiming “Trump loves Epstein.” Were they saying this was a good thing? Or were they protesting? What about Nazis’ historical hatred of Jews? Who knows? It was impossible to read their expressions, because they all wore masks.

A posted scholarly lecture on the Virginia Museum of History and Culture’s website tells us that early KKK members wore burlap feed sacks over the faces, donned animal horns and wore white muslin masks to indicate they were “non-human,” including corpses come back to life. Who were these members of the nation’s first domestic terrorism group? The neighbors of the people they hunted? How did they feel about what they were doing? Who knows? It was impossible to read their expressions, because they all wore masks.

Today, all across the country, masked men, claiming to be representatives of the U.S. government, are snatching people off the streets, out of courtrooms, off high school ballfields, and from the lines of workers in car washes. Are they employed by Immigration and Customs Enforcement? Are they self-appointed vigilantes? Are they sex traffickers acting under cover to kidnap people for sex slavery? Who knows? It is impossible to read their expressions, because they all wear masks.

Hiding one’s face is, of course, an ancient practice. Humans have always worn masks — in war and sports, in religious ritual, during celebrations, and on stage. Shakespeare’s lovers donned them at masquerade balls. Bad guys like Darth Vader and Jason Voorhees wear masks. But so do good guys like Batman, Spiderman and Zorro. Complex anti-heroes like the Phantom of the Opera maintain their mystery behind a mask. And of course children love the strange, freeing anonymity a mask gives them at Hallowe’en.

Most of us — those who respect science and were concerned for others’ safety — wore masks for three long years during the Covid pandemic. And we were thrilled to toss them once the vaccine allowed life to return to normal. Some folks with compromised immune systems choose to wear them still, especially in crowds.

But now? For those of us not still at grave risk, or on a sport team, in a religious group or on stage, the main reason to cover one’s face is to hide our shame. Our hands instinctively fly up to our cheeks and cover our nose and mouth when we are caught doing something wrong, or embarrassing.

So a simple question for ICE agents (both real and impostors), for neo-Nazis, and for today’s white supremacists posting hateful literature on lampposts in small towns across the nation, is this: if you’re too ashamed to show your face, why are you doing what you’re doing?

People in public office (as I once was) are often stalked, harassed and ridiculed on social media. Sometimes, as in the tragic case of the state representative in Minnesota, they are murdered. The public expects elected officials to show their faces, literally and figuratively. It’s called accountability. And yes, often it puts a target on our back, as it has recently with Rep. Corey Paris, who is being sent the most racist, vile and dangerous threats from across the country for calling out ICE in his district. Still, I don’t know any elected person hiding behind a mask, unless you considerTrump’s orange make-up a bizarre version of kumadori, the stylized makeup worn in Japanese Kabuki theater.

In 2016, at a protest march I attended after Trump was first elected, I engaged a young man who seemed to be in his mid-20s. He wore a Trump tee-shirt and was heckling us from the sidelines. I asked why he was covering his face with a mask. He said something that cannot be reprinted here — something inspired by Trump’s boasting about what he does to women’s bodies. He spat out he would do that to me if I didn’t move on.

So I asked him what his mother would think of that. Yes, I admit, a prissy, perhaps uptight thing to do, but still. I wanted him to explain his thought process. After all, aren’t we liberals supposed to engage with these folks? To get to know their minds? Not to judge but, rather, to “meet them where they are?”

So instead of returning this threat with something similar about his private parts (which, as everyone knows, are a lot more fragile than a woman’s), I asked again: Does your mother know you’re doing this? He emitted a sort of grunt. I could not read his expression, because he wore a mask. But he did drop his shoulders a little, and bowed his head just a bit. The parade of marchers moved on.

I think of that young man often — he’s probably around 30 now. Plenty old enough to be a father to a child who may get measles. Perhaps his mother now has cancer and needs to enter a clinical trial that’s been defunded. Perhaps the tariffs have cost him his job. I wonder if the mask will fall from his face when the scales fall from his eyes.

Christine Palm is a former state representative who is founder of The Active Voice, a journalism and civics program for young environmentalists.