Socially Awkward: Reflections on Gathering in the New Normal

Socially awkward.  That’s how I captured my feelings at the closing of an in-person convening a few weeks ago.  As we come into a period of gathering again, I’m realizing how rusty I am in group settings.  Two years isolating in a Zoom box has altered how I interact and what it means to be together.  I’m getting a full dose of it this fall, and sense many others are, too. I’m still sorting it all out.  Masks or not.  Hugs, handshakes, elbow bumps, waves?  Six feet apart and social distancing, or back to normal?

Serendipitous encounters and conversations that happen as you’re standing in line to get coffee, or at the table at which you’re eating, or the person next to you at a session disappeared online.  Getting used to being in social situations with new people again is something that will take some time.

Compounding my own social awkwardness is our collective one.  It’s not so much the individual responses, but how we approach being together. The levels of comfort are more variable as the pent-up demand of being together has thrust so many meetings and conferences into autumn.  There doesn’t seem to be a norm or a standard to help guide us. 

Our own grantee retreat was designed to be outdoors – honoring the different comfort levels and situations in which many people find themselves.  Our COVID protocols asked attendees to attest to being vaccinated and taking a rapid test with a negative result within 24-hours of the start.  By design, we picked a time of year where being outside was possible under tents -with heaters.  We were fortunate that participants were hearty and generous and the one day with rainy weather, falling temperatures, and periodic winds didn’t seem to impede the conversations, workshops, or evening karaoke.  The biggest worry was about ensuring that the a/v equipment wouldn’t be damaged by the precipitation.

A few weeks ago, I presented at a 300-person conference in the Midwest in which the mask which was dangling around my wrist would be the only one that would make an appearance.  Even the Executive Director of the organizing group commented on it.  Everyone showed up on the first day and we entered the ballroom and breakout sessions just as we had done in pre-pandemic times. It was eerie, in its own way – the normalcy, or return to it.

And earlier this year, I was at a 500-person conference in which attendees wore color-coded lanyards, were required to wear masks except during meals (and even had ‘no meal’ tables for those who didn’t want to be in situations where someone would be unmasked). And despite the precautions and attestations, the event turned out to be a super spreader.

So, what gives? Not sure, but understanding varying levels of comfort – or understanding the context – whether it’s having young children who may not be vaccinated, being immunocompromised, visiting aging parents after the gathering, a religious exemption, just being cautious, or something else – I’m trying to be less judgmental and extend more grace.  And that goes for those organizing these convenings as well. I’ll do what I’m comfortable with, respect others’ choices, and hope that others do the same with me.  It’s hard enough to manage myself, let alone worry about everyone else.  Let’s be socially awkward (and non-judgmental) together.