Being of the age and health demographic most vulnerable to COVID-19, I’ve played it safe and seldom gone out in the last year.
The times I’ve ventured out for necessities, relatively few others were around as a result of various lockdown policies.
I didn’t know what to expect last week when I went to a doctor’s appointment in downtown Kailua after hearing reports of Waikiki crowds nearing pre-pandemic levels with few face coverings outside or in. Had Kailua moved on from COVID-19 too as vaccination percentages rise and restrictions loosen?
The answer was an interesting yes and no.
There were far more people on the streets and in stores than the last time I was out, but unlike reports from Waikiki, the vast majority observed the governor’s mandate that face masks still be worn indoors and most wore them outdoors as well — even though they didn’t have to anymore.
It highlighted for me the difference between the way Hawaii, as represented by the Kailuans, responded to the pandemic as opposed to many mainland places, as represented by the Waikiki tourists. Hawaii comes out looking pretty good.
COVID-19 was an unprecedented emergency for every state and all had missteps in confronting it.
Locally, the early turf warfare and butt-covering by the former Health Department leadership when public safety needed to be the sole focus was greatly disturbing, as is the ongoing failure of the Department of Labor and Industrial Relations to reopen its offices and process unemployment claims more promptly and humanely.
But the bottom line is Hawaii has gotten through it far better than most states, with some of the lowest case counts and death rates.
We were saved by our island isolation and a sense of community responsibility that’s held more strongly than elsewhere in the country.
The isolation enabled us to mostly keep the virus out; even today, as visitor numbers surge, the state’s pre-testing and quarantine rules — along with vaccinations — appear to be keeping COVID-19 cases from spiking again.
Our isolation also explains national surveys showing us to be the most worried about the virus despite low cases. We know that if cases exceed our medical resources, we don’t have big states next door to help.
Our strong sense of community responsibility is revealed in the things we complain about.
In many states, complaints getting the most attention are of the “me first” variety — about how asking them to wear masks and keep their germs to themselves violates their rights and how vaccines are a government conspiracy.
We’ve had relatively little of this here, as most respect a responsibility to accept reasonable rules that protect the common good. Our most frequent complaints are about those who lack the regard for others to do so.
The fabric of social responsibility is starting to fray in Hawaii like everywhere else, but it’s encouraging to know we still have enough to salvage if this crazy world ever returns to its senses.