In front of the mask: An attitude, and opinion, an expression of joy

Our masks have morphed.

Still a tool against coronavirus spread, the fabric of our lives now stretches across the nose and mouth in increasingly colorful ways.

We first masked in disposable ones, if we could find them, or handkerchiefs. Then seamstresses and manufacturers got busy. Now, masks daily are bridging self-expression – to show fashion, cheer teams, bring humor, share messages, advertise, or reveal political stances.

Our facial cues are covered for now, but material seen from six feet away can offer a glimpse behind the layers. They’re flashed images of Native American culture, a teacher’s fun, Black Lives Matter, an actor’s red-sequins, Latino-inspired embroidery or a veteran’s flag-and-eagle art.

“It’s another opportunity to show that side of yourself, if you’re able to do that, through your cultural identity or other ways,” said Donell Barlow, a health coach, author and indigenous rights advocate. She is Yurok and an enrolled member of the Ottawa Tribe-Otter Clan.

She wears native art masks that spark questions or nods.

“It’s just another way for us to be represented and acknowledge each other, because there is less of that,” Barlow said. “We can’t smile at one another, but it gives us an opportunity to give somebody that feeling – or that whatever it is you’re trying to express – whether it’s funny, creative, or with art.

“It gets us to engage with one another, which we’re not doing, for obvious reasons – even if it’s a head bob.”

Barlow has native masks made by her friend, Twa-le Abrahamson-Swan, a member of the Spokane Tribe of Indians. The two women have young daughters at the Salish School of Spokane, and Abrahamson-Swan recently made the girls masks with their Salish names.

Abrahamson-Swan is executive director of River Warrior Society, and she’s guided an expansive recovery effort for victims of the wildfires that devastated the Colville Indian Reservation this past summer. She’s an advocate for environmental justice and Indigenous rights.

So her masks tend to display support for those causes, as well as native art.

“Some of the most powerful ones are to bring attention to murdered and missing indigenous women,” she said. That symbol has a red handprint image on the mask. “I try to purchase masks from local artists for when I’m out in the community for distributions and COVID outreach.”

Abrahamson-Swan tries to have masks handy to give to others. “We’re worried about keeping our elders safe.”

She also thinks masks with a message or in support of an artist can bring notice. “Sometimes, people have a question. If it’s one person a day who might ask or wonder, that’s one person who may not know about the issue on the previous day.”

For Kurtis Robinson, masks can send a clear message. Until recently, Robinson served at the president of the Spokane chapter of the NAACP and currently is vice president. But he said any mask he wears with a message is his opinion. He has an orange mask with, I Did the Time, to reflect his support for an organization that works to reduce discrimination against formerly incarcerated individuals. He’s the group’s executive director.

“For me, the significance about that is being a BIPOC, a Black Indigenous Person of Color, and making that kind of stance,” said Robinson, newly appointed as a Washington State Criminal Justice Training Commissioner.

“(It’s) because when you take a look at the statistics nationwide, as well as definitively in Eastern Washington, people of color are radically and disproportionately represented in the criminal justice system in everything from initial contacts to underrepresentation in judgment and juries, and over-representation in lengths of sentencing and obviously barriers to re-entry.”

Robinson also wears a mask with Indigenous artwork. He said the masks worn by others that stand out to him carry the message Black Lives Matter. “I’ve really appreciated those, although I don’t have one just because I haven’t taken the time to hunt one down.

“For me, these masks have transformed absolutely into not only a way to advertise a stance but be very evident about it. There’s no way you’re going to mistake where I’m standing because I’m wearing it on my face. … It’s a statement about the way I operate as a human being.”

But he’s also concerned about reports he’s heard about pushback against people of color when they wear a mask as a stance. “The fact that is an issue is beyond a shame, but it’s also a reality.”

Kelly Kiki, 51, reaches for humor in a closet full of 11 festive suits in bold designs – now with matching masks – to make kids and adults laugh, or at least smile. In a difficult year apart from students, the North Central High School English teacher added more “goofy” to what’s suitable for his nickname, the suit guy.

About two years ago, he bought his standout red-and-black-plaid set he calls his “Friday spirit suit,” in North Central’s colors. Kiki recently bought a matching plaid mask for that suit, but mostly, his masks are simply color-coordinated. He’s found ways during the pandemic to wear his festive attire shopping and for volunteering, both in a veterans’ group and with Blessings Under the Bridge. In the community, he’s looking for those same smiles.

“I also have a St. Paddy’s suit, a Thanksgiving suit, a Valentine’s suit, and I’m getting ready to buy an Easter suit – obviously with pastels,” Kiki said. “I always have a ‘go big or go home’ kind of mentality, especially since this COVID thing.”

He reminds his students of three key goals: patience, grace and “a sense of humor in all of this.”

“With my suits, it’s all about finding a little fun, some laughter. When I show up in my plaid outfit in a black shirt and red suspenders, the kids just get a kick out of it. The goal is to spread the idea that kids have to see adults having fun, and kids have got to see adults having fun with them. I think sometimes we miss that in life as parents, teachers, coaches.”

His current students only experienced that sense of fun via video until March 1, the first in-person school day in nearly a year. The spirit suit returned as well. “I wore it on Monday and Tuesday only because that was the first time I got to see my kids, and I wanted them to see me as that guy – the fun guy. We’ve had a rough year, so let’s laugh a little bit.”

Across Spokane at a store or gas pump, you might spot Marnie Rorholm in her sparkly, red-sequined mask. It’s a nod to her roles as an actress with the Spokane Valley Summer Theatre and as its development director.

She appeared in the company’s last show, in August 2019, as the best-friend character of Tanya in “Mamma Mia.” For its encore, she and other characters sang more ABBA songs, and Rorholm wore a bright red-sequined dress, and the leftover fabric from that costume soon had a more utilitarian purpose.

Rorholm said the theater’s costumer, Linay Robison, made masks for theater members as unexpected gifts last year. Although COVID-19 shut down last year’s season, and all performing arts, Rorholm can still talk theater from behind sequins. She’ll tell people that the theater hopes to open this summer with an outdoor season near CenterPlace, if restrictions are lifted.

Another of her masks reads “Drama Queen.”

“It was when you couldn’t buy them everywhere,” Rorholm said. “And sure enough, this sparkly red thing shows up in the mail. It’s as if you are wearing Dorothy’s red shoes from ‘The Wizard of Oz,’ and people say, ‘Wow, you’re wearing quite a sparkly mask.’”

This isn’t the first year that Rorholm, 49, remembers wearing masks. She was a child in Spokane after the eruption of Mount St. Helens.

“You had to go to school for two weeks with these ugly surgical masks on,” she said. “Now, nobody wants to wear them, really, but to make the best of a bad situation, you might as well enjoy what you’re wearing.”

And in different colors.

“I am one of those weird people who always feels I should wear a mask that matches my outfit.”

A love for performing arts also inspires Elizabeth Kelley, Spokane Symphony board president and a criminal defense lawyer. Born and raised in Spokane, she remembers the Fox from childhood as a movie theater.

Because of COVID-19 restrictions, the Martin Woldson Theater at the Fox has been closed for a year. So Kelley likes to wear a mask designed with the Fox’s emblem, drawing questions about when symphony concerts and other shows will return. A childhood friend designed it.

“I proudly wear this because it reminds people of what an important landmark the Fox is; it allows me to update people,” she said.

She bought other theater-inspired masks, a silver-sequined one and three from Carnegie Hall’s gift shop, because she admires that venue as well.

“I like making a statement to promote the arts, and in particular to promote Spokane and the Fox. I’m telling people now that James Lowe, our conductor, is coming down the home stretch of his 14-day quarantine in Seattle.”

That means Lowe in Spokane after a yearlong absence to work this spring with musicians to record five concerts. Live-streamed tickets are on sale, she said.

Both cultural influences and survival shaped the Latino masks crafted by Adriana Gomez, 48, a single mother of five children ranging 8 to 24. Originally from Guadalajara, Mexico, Gomez learned to sew in her father’s business that made curtains.

Coming to the U.S. 30 years ago, the Spokane Valley resident has lived here half that time. Her restaurant and house-cleaning jobs stopped abruptly in April.

“She went from being the sole provider for her house to not making any money,” said Bobbet Rosas, a friend who interpreted for Gomez. “It helped her survive and provide for her family. She knew masks were going to be the next thing everyone would need, so she started coming up with different ideas.”

Gomez estimates she made roughly 8,000 masks, sold via word-of-mouth, Facebook, two Mexican restaurants and the Latinos en Spokane group. Her designs include embroidered flowers, logos of Mexican soccer teams, Día de Muertos-inspired imagery, luchador wrestler emblems and popular folk art.

“Everybody has purchased them now, not just the Latino community,” Gomez said through Rosas. “It started there, but it kept spreading. The idea is to make them to where people want to wear the masks.”

Displaying personal designs also inspires Shantell Jackson, a visual artist who created masks called gaiters. “I have a couple of designs and I digitized them and actually created three different designs for face gaiters.”

Two of them have Jackson’s logo, Dope Lady Design. The term dope originally in the African American vernacular means a compliment, she said. She’s also created a gaiter from her pandemic painting series. Jackson wears some masks she bought, including ones with Black Lives Matter and No Justice, No Peace.

“I love what I’ve seen with masks as an act of revolution, and act of self-expression,” Jackson said. “I love what has come out of a crappy year and being in COVID, but there’s expression that has come out as a means of your survival, creativity or resourcefulness.”

Doctors must wear medical-grade masks at clinics, but around Spokane or courtside, you’ll find Dr. Molly Gilbert wearing the masks she’s sewn for the Zags.

A family medicine physician, she’s also one of the team physicians for all Gonzaga athletes, including its basketball players. She helps care for about 360 university athletes in sports ranging from volleyball to cheerleading.

Gilbert enjoys sewing, so she dove into self-taught guides to make Zags masks and other fun face coverings for athletes, coworkers, friends and family. The women’s basketball team wore the pink masks with white polka dots she made during a game in February for breast cancer awareness.

“I was able to make them with Gonzaga fabric on one side, and then pink with white polka dots on the other side,” Gilbert said. “That was special for me because I had breast cancer at the end of 2019, and I’m doing well, but they all know that story.

“Now, I find fun fabrics that fit people, so it’s leopard print and pink flamingos. It fits their personality or interests.”

That’s more than 1,000 fits now, and nearly a year in which her husband and sons, 20 and 22, have rolled with having fabric, elastic and a sewing machine on a large kitchen table. “I’m camped out at the one end, but then I can watch Gonzaga games on TV if they’re playing away.”

Making veterans feel welcomed motives James Culpepper, 75, served in Vietnam and is the commander of American Legion Post 143 in Post Falls. He often wears an American flag design for a mask to represent his support of the United States and military members.

“I felt my mask was a good fit because I’m a veteran, and I support the American flag and servicemen,” said Culpepper, who served in the Navy. Another mask honors those who served. “That one has POW/MIA, representing the soldiers who haven’t come back.”