Body language
There was some interesting body language in the capitol rotunda today, where people were gathered to honor John Lewis. Most of them loved him, respected him, considered him a friend. They were the ones whose hands were lifted to others, only to have those hands uncomfortably withdrawn, dropped to the side or wrung together. They were the ones who opened their arms and leaned toward one another, only to stop and drop back, shoulders drooping, heads slowly nodding.
They were the ones who are used to reaching out to touch those in need of comfort, and the masks reminded them that such expressions can’t happen right now, and the motions of holding back looked painfully awkward, that tactile denial adding to the shared grief; words that would otherwise be whispered were spoken from a distance, eyes meeting to embrace across the unnatural chasm. Their shared pain was palpable.
That said, not everyone was visibly discomfited by the constraints; Mitch McConnell’s only apparent discomfort seemed to arise from the brief forced proximity to so many who actually know how to give a damn. In that room in that sad hour, he was in the very small minority.
= new reply since forum marked as read
