“Low skill” doesn’t mean low risk, especially during a pandemic.

How we treat the “low skill” workers once this pandemic is over will show us who we truly are.

Recently, I’ve been feeling like all my fancy “book learning” means bupkis right now. As a lawyer, I have what is commonly referred to as an “advanced” degree. But at the moment, my ability to draft documents and engage in legal/policy research feels woefully inadequate in addressing the immediate needs of feeding and healing my fellow humans.

Like millions of Americans, I’ve been inspired by the individuals at the forefront of this pandemic who are risking their lives every single day to keep the rest of us alive and safe. Our healthcare workers are doing their absolute best at great personal risk and they have our unyielding gratitude.

Many of these jobs, however, do not get the honor and respect they deserve when we aren’t in the middle of a public health crisis.

Those who work in food preparation and delivery, sanitation, retail, care taking, etc. are used to being ignored or feeling invisible. That’s the message we send to people whose jobs we categorize as “ low skill.” Whose livelihoods we are not willing to protect and value with public policies that provide them with what should be basic protections such as a minimum living wage and paid family/sick leave.

Yet these “low skill” individuals are our lifelines right now. Literally. They are stocking and restocking our grocery store shelves. They are entering contaminated hospital rooms to clean and sanitize for the next patient. They are delivering our food and medicine so that we can stay home and keep our families safe. And they are too often doing so without the necessary personal protective equipment required to keep them and their families safe.

When all of this is over and we begin talking about reopening and rebuilding the post-pandemic economy, there will be policy proposals aimed at shoring up financial and institutional support for the individuals without whom this crisis would have lasted far longer and been much, much worse.

Our collective support of these proposals (or lack thereof) will tell these individuals what we really think of them.

Whether we think they truly are essential…or merely expendable.

On National Doctor Day, Ohio Governor Mike DeWine posted this tribute to Ohio’s Director of Health, Dr. Amy Acton, who, along with himself, has been the public face of Ohio’s response to the COVID-19 global pandemic.

Happy #NationalDoctorDay. We want to especially thank @DrAmyActon today. She is nothing short of amazing. She has been our beacon of hope and determination. Watch below⬇️ pic.twitter.com/3O4JqBhV5f
— Governor Mike DeWine (@GovMikeDeWine) March 30, 2020

What struck me the most about the video (I’m not crying, you’re crying) was all the little girls who were emulating her. They were literally playing (read practicing) at leading.

Because they identify with her. Because they see themselves in her. That cannot be overstated. It’s really important.

When we talk about the importance and necessity of representation in leadership, this is what we mean at the most basic level. You’ve heard it before, you cannot be what you cannot see.

Of equal importance are the thousands of little boys who, on a daily basis, see the Governor appropriately deferring to Dr. Acton on matters of public health. DeWine is doing an exceptional job himself in his handling of this pandemic and I’m not the first to recognize that his appointment of Dr. Acton will likely prove to be most important decision of his gubernatorial career.

Dr. Acton is calm, candid and above all, competent. She doesn’t sugarcoat the dangers surrounding the unprecedented public health threat we face, but she does so in a manner that is reassuring and educational to the public. She takes complex medical terminologies and theories and breaks them down into manageable bits of information so those of us who are not versed in epidemiology can understand and take appropriate action to protect ourselves and our families. She also takes time to acknowledge public anxiety and to encourage people to be kind.

In addition, her background gives her a unique ability to empathize with populations that will be disproportionally impacted by this pandemic and I’m confident that she has the Governor’s ear when it comes to making policy decisions on that front as well.

All of this brings me to my larger point.

None of this should be remarkable.

It shouldn’t be surprising to see a woman’s education and expertise being given due deference in the middle of a public crisis. It shouldn’t be refreshing to see almost universal support online for a female public figure as opposed to the sexist vitriol that women in the public eye almost universally experience.

Dr. Acton deserves every bit of the positive press she’s receiving. I just wish it didn’t feel so special, so unique. Like some sort of unicorn moment that will pass us by once this pandemic is over, because appreciation of the leadership style and contributions of professionals like Dr. Acton should be the norm, not the exception.

What does encourage me is this: decades from now, men and women will be asked to describe what it was like to be a child during the COVID-19 global pandemic. And for many, the face and voice they will describe as having looked to for guidance was female.