The Ones Who Make It Worth It

Five years ago, I visited my old high school while on winter break to share with the senior class all the joys that were community college. I got to see a lot of familiar faces (I’d only graduated a couple months earlier than these guys): a couple old friends, teachers who inspired me to become a high school teacher, a high school crush I still thought I had a shot at. I could tell them every mediocre detail of what college was like. What I was studying, my schedule, my classes, my free-time, all that jazz. By the time I’d gotten around to the end I’d had the spiel memorized like a record. But there was one question that no matter how many times I was asked I struggled with answering: What’s next? What’s after college? Where do you see yourself in five years? Truthfully, I didn’t know. I supposed I was going to become a high school history teacher, like some of the great teachers that inspired me. Maybe I still had a shot with my crush, and maybe I’d end up marrying her in five years. I’d probably live here, but a tiny part of me wanted to see what life was like beyond this small little town. Maybe something great, maybe something small, but whatever it was, it’d be just right.

If you were to ask me that question now, I still couldn’t tell you the answer. I don’t know where I see myself in a year, let alone five. And it turns out, I didn’t have any clue then either. About halfway through college for one reason or another I decided I didn’t want to be a high school history teacher, at least not yet. The girl I thought I’d end up marrying, I never even went out with once. I did get out of my little hometown, just about as far as I could go too. And yet I still ended up back here. I traded high school for preschool, making my career teaching ABC’s instead of the Peloponnese (it took me way too long to come with a cool rhyme for that). Greatness became subjective. It didn’t mean the big world conquering adventures I thought it did, it meant the hundreds of little things that make life beautiful. Everything flipped on its head.

Then of course covid happened, and shit hit the fan pretty frickin quick.

A New Meaning of Life

“Boy, that escalated quickly. I mean, that really got out of hand fast.” -Ron Burgundy, Anchorman

I know what you’re thinking. A New Year’s Eve post in 2020 is probably going to go one of three ways (well, at least I tried to post it by midnight). One: 2020 sucked, this is why. Two: 2020 sucked, but there were still good moments to appreciate. Or Three: 2020 sucked, but at least there’s hope for the future. And I’m gonna try to steer away from all of those. Anyone with half a brain can tell you 2020 sucked. And good moments are completely subjective: what I might have enjoyed, others probably didn’t or couldn’t. I made it out pretty lucky all things considering, knowing how many lives were actually destroyed or in jeopardy this year. Lastly, again, I’m very poor at saying what I can expect from the future. How should I know 2021 is gonna turn things around? If anything the new year has so much pressure on it to perform that it could go berserk at any moment, like a circus elephant that’s had one too many peanuts thrown at it.

So, no blog post then, just a quick flashback, a couple writing quips I thought were genius, and otherwise I’ve wasted everyone’s time, right? Not quite. 2020 has been the teacher of many lessons— some harsh, some stupid, some lifechanging, and some just to teach you that when you didn’t think it could possibly get more stupid, it can. But perhaps the biggest lesson this godawful year has taught me starts with the fact that I’ve been viewing the year completely wrong. Actually, I’ve been viewing time itself wrong. See, life isn’t defined by numbers on a calendar or clock, no matter how neat and organized we try to make it. And beyond the surface, New Year’s is about a lot more than a number switch or a ball dropping in Times Square. It might be a new and fresh start and a marker from which we set forth a new tomorrow. It might be a chance to celebrate and look back on the year past. But both the year coming and the year gone look a hell of a lot different than we’re used to.

Whether you’re looking forward or backward, a year is defined by all the great and wonderful things you do, memories you have, places you go, and enjoying all of that with the people that make your life special. But looking back at least, much of that is gone. 2020 wasn’t filled with things I did and memories I had and places I went. It certainly wasn’t filled with cool stuff that made the year special. But with all the things this year could take away, it couldn’t take away one thing: people. It certainly tried, and it had a pretty good effort too. Yet despite all the closures and lockdowns, despite distancing and masks, despite shaky video calls with crappy connection, despite government and plague and everything else— human relationships remained. And not the kind of already awkward social interactions at the grocery store while you’re waiting for the deli line to clear up. I mean the important stuff, the laughs, the cries, the deep philosophical debates. The tenderness, the openness, the love. That’s all still here.

Why It’s Worth It- And Who It’s For

Social interactions aren’t where any of us would like them to be. But even in as shitty circumstances as these, the relationships I have with the people who matter most make it all seem worth it. In some ways, I’d even say I feel closer now with my family and many of my friends than ever before. And not only that, but this year’s even brought a couple new relationships as well that I would have never had without such circumstances as these.

First off, there’s my family. To say that I’ve been locked up with my family for what feels like forever is probably an understatement. Yet throughout this, they’ve continued to inspire me, look out for me, make me a better person, and give me something to care about, making this dark time ever so brighter. Our little lockdown bunker has been filled with music and board games and puzzles and Food Network, and even if it wasn’t always what we wanted it to be, it was home. If I was going to have to spend the countless days of 2020 with anyone, I wouldn’t choose anyone else.

Beyond my family, there’s the friends who’ve stuck by me through it all. Even though we’ve had less opportunities to see each other in person this year, the ones we managed to make happen were special. Great outdoor adventures such as skiing and kayaking mixed with simpler pleasures such as trips to the mall and virtual game nights. Whether texting history memes back and forth, finally watching classics like Lord of the Rings and Titanic, or charging on horseback in the woods, the highlights of my year wouldn’t be complete without you.

I also have to give a shoutout to my class— both the kids and fellow teachers, who make every day coming in to work a special one. I wasn’t sure whether any of it would feel right coming back to work after six months to a completely different school year, and yet somehow this year is even more special than the last. I couldn’t possibly be prouder to be a Speckled Frog than I do now with such an awesome classroom team to work with and kids to teach and love. You guys give me a reason to smile every day, and make this whole scary world a lot less scary.

Finally, if there’s one person that’s made this year special and been my rock throughout this most difficult year, it’s my sister, Shelby. I spent so much of the year trying to help you through your problems and as a mentor to you. I taught you how to drive and get your license, how to deal with friendship dramas, readjust to life back home under your parents’ roof, and more. But without knowing it you’ve been just as much a guide and mentor to me— perhaps, you’ve helped me this year more than I could ever help you. You’ve always given me something to care about, to believe in, to fight for, a reason to keep pushing and trying when I just want to succumb to the pressure. Without you, I don’t think I could have managed to face all the challenges this year brought. And I know it’s been crazy for both of us, but I’m so glad we were able to go through it all together.

The Strength to Carry On Together

“My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you.” -John 15:12

I certainly know I couldn’t have gone through any of this alone. And luckily, I wasn’t. Ironic as it is, I became closer to the people that matter most this year than I have in any year past. This year has been a nightmare and a half for certain. But I made it through, with you. Even when I thought it wasn’t possible, we laughed and smiled as we did before. We told dumb jokes and had game nights and went on mini adventures. We understood each other’s hardships and walked together through the unimaginable. We made the dark times not so dark and gave each other light and hope and warmth.

It’s not about events. It’s not about places. It’s not even about memories. God knows once this is all over we’re all going to be looking for help forgetting this terrible thing ever happened. Instead, it’s about people. Ironic as it is, this year was all about the people we love so much. And perhaps that’s a lesson that’ll go beyond this year. A lesson that does extend to a brighter future and new places and experiences, and good memories along the way.

Time has never been about all the things you did. It’s about the people you were with.