Sara Goodman, 39, has kept kosher her entire life. An associate professor of political science at the University of California, Irvine, Ms. Goodman is used to responding to dinner invitations with an awkward but polite inquiry about what sort of food will be served, and if accommodations can be made for her.
It’s a skill, she says, that has come in handy as California eases its way out of the stay at home order that Gov. Gavin Newsom put in place on March 19, and families like hers begin navigating the uncharted landscape of post-Covid-19 socializing.
“I’m used to asking for the things that I need, or just saying I’m a vegetarian. But a lot of people aren’t used to having a discussion about what their comfort levels are when they socialize,” she said.
As shelter-in-place restrictions are eased around the world, people are facing uncomfortable conversations with friends and family over how far they can loosen the rules and still stay safe from infection. But it can be difficult to broach these subjects. Will your friends come to a birthday party, being held outdoors, and still wear masks and keep their distance from one another? Can you gather with your family without asking your sister whether she continues to be vigilant about masks and sanitizing? Also, before you start extending invitations, it might be helpful to learn how to interpret lame excuses and awkward silences.
Ms. Goodman and her husband, Adam Goodman, 40, are parents to Micah, 7, and Silvia, 5. The foursome has cautiously begun socializing with a handful of neighborhood families, but with caveats: They only meet outdoors, everyone wears masks when it’s not possible to stay six feet apart, and if there are drinks involved, it’s strictly B.Y.O.B. They want to begin socializing more widely, but haven’t yet hammered out the phrasing they’ll use when discussing with friends how that might look.
“This is a new social landscape,” she said. “Do you say, ‘I’m a social distancer? Is that how you indicate what your needs are? We don’t have a language for describing it yet.”
For Judith and Akshat Pujara, who are both 38 and parents to Alice, 3, this new tiptoeing around terminology for socializing also evokes a sense of déjà vu.
“I feel the same about this that I do about asking about guns in a home,” said Ms. Pujara, a workplace strategist. “I never thought I’d have to ask questions like this, but I do.”
Mr. Pujara is an assistant professor of radiology at Emory University in Atlanta, and continues to go into the hospital each day. Because of his elevated risk of exposure, he and Ms. Pujara haven’t yet met up with friends, but they have reached out to fellow colleagues to attempt to make play dates for their daughter. So far, they haven’t been successful.
“I texted one colleague and I said, ‘Hypothetically, would you be interested in a socially distanced play date in your backyard?’” Mr. Pujara said. “I didn’t know how to phrase it, and I didn’t really know how to ask.”
His colleague politely passed, offering an excuse that she and her family would be out of town.
“I don’t think she really wanted to answer,” he admitted.
No matter how uncomfortable it might feel to respond to a social invitation with questions about sanitization and distancing, it’s important to be forthright about where your own red lines are, said Dr. Allen Furr, a professor of sociology at Auburn University, and not presume that everyone in your circle has the same standards for caution and cleanliness.
“Perception of risk isn’t a constant,” said Dr. Furr. “Conflict could arise if somebody asks people over, and the person who is concerned about safety assumes their host is going to take precautions, and then they show up and there aren’t any. It could affect how we view our friends.”
Having friends over post-lockdown also creates an added burden for hosts: In addition to ensuring your guests’ wine glasses are full and conversation is flowing, do you also have to enforce standards of social distancing?
Elisha Baskin, 33, lives with her husband, Yuval Ben-Ami, 44, and their daughter, Akko, 2, in Lauris, a small Provençal village in the Luberon region of France. France loosened its lockdown on May 11, just before Mr. Ben-Ami’s birthday, a coincidence of timing that Ms. Baskin felt was the ideal excuse for a party.
She reached out to a handful of close friends to see if they wanted to celebrate together, and opted to simply be straightforward.
“I didn’t want to create a situation where someone felt uncomfortable telling me that they weren’t comfortable, so I just asked each person directly: ‘I’m thinking of having a party, we’ll be outside in the yard and it will be small, do you want to come?’” she said.
Everyone accepted the invitation. On the day of the party, there were 12 guests, ranging from age 33 to 63. Ms. Baskin set up a large table outdoors, and at first everyone stayed outdoors and six feet apart. At first, they weren’t sure how to greet each other.
“The bisou is a big thing in France,” Ms. Baskin said, referring to the time-honored tradition there of greeting people with a kiss or two, “so people were going to kiss and then stopping.”
But the group quickly relaxed and even moved indoors.
“At first people were maintaining distance but as the wine came, the party flowed,” she said. “I didn’t want to be the police, but I did keep thinking, ‘Oh my God, what would I do if someone got sick at this party?’ It’s a big responsibility.”
Two weeks have now passed, and no one who attended the birthday party has become sick, which she says is a relief. “It’s OK to convene in groups now, but mentally, I’m having to realize I cannot control germs and I also cannot control human behavior,” she said.
And in Sweden, where the government never implemented a strict lockdown, some citizens have found that socializing in the privacy of each others’ homes offers a respite from the societal pressure of social distancing.
“Sweden is a culture that adheres to rules,” said Gabriel-Anjelo Ajayi, 35, a life coach who lives outside of Stockholm. “So if I see a friend out in public I may not shake his hand because we’re all observing social distancing. But privately, we hug — inside the home, nothing has changed.”
For the elderly, the need to speak clearly about expectations for post-quarantine socialization can feel especially pressing. Mary Ann Wormser, 77, is a retired teacher in Beachwood, Ohio. She is divorced and lives alone, and earlier this month, after Gov. Mike DeWine lifted the last of that state’s restrictions on social gatherings, she cautiously reached out to three friends, all in their late 70s and early 80s.
She made sure her invitation was clear: They would sit outside in the backyard, each guest would bring his or her own food to enjoy, and if someone needed to use the restroom, there would be paper towels and Lysol on hand to wipe down surfaces when they finished.
“Everything that everyone brought was disposable and could be thrown away. It worked out very nicely,” said Ms. Wormser. “I even told them to bring their own drinks. I didn’t serve anything at all.”
Despite some nerves before her friends arrived, Ms. Wormser said, she was glad she had offered the invitation. Her doctor has advised her to maintain social distancing until a vaccine for coronavirus is made available, so figuring out how to see friends while staying safe felt like a survival tactic.
“I could have two years of this, and it’s not a pleasant thought,” she said. “We’re all very cautious and very fearful, but I got to the point where I felt like I needed to do something socially, and I was comfortable figuring out how to do it.”
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