This is 2020

 

You’ve already done it twice. You worked hard, did your best and you still don’t understand it.

You have to try again even though you’re discouraged and feel overwhelmed and alone. You try again. You barely pass. You feel relief for just a moment, happy to finally have passed. Then you see what is left to do. 

You feel like quitting. 

You take a deep breath, start the next portion of what is required, and the internet drops.  Tears fill the corners of your eyes. This happens over and over again. You are a remote learning student during 2020. 

No fun with your friends, no extracurricular or after school programs. Your parents are frustrated, your teachers are frustrated, you feel like you are letting everyone down and wonder “what’s the point?”. 

As soon as you get the routine down, think you have it figured out, your teacher sends you correspondence after you’ve completed your work and have logged off and don’t see it until the following day. Now that added assignment or retake of a test is late. 

Your parents are mad at you, your teacher annoyed, and you feel frustrated that you thought you were all done.  You get emails and messages on multiple platforms and feel overwhelmed trying to keep up with it all. If you are in-person, you have to social distance and wear a mask, no recess, no cafeteria time and no group projects. The parts that used to break up the day and make it fun, no longer exist. This is 2020.

 

You’ve been told you’re going to have new tools to do your job. You start learning how to use them, decide you can make this work just in time to find out those tools are no longer allowed. 

You adjust your way of thinking, stressed because time is running out, and learn the new restrictions and practice the new tools. 

The very things that used to bring you joy in your line of work have been taken from you and every part of your daily work has become harder than you ever anticipated. Now, you are struggling to try and think of new ways to do what you were hired to do. 

As you feel like you are finally getting a handle on it, getting good response from your students, you get blasted by the community and parents. You understand that it comes from frustration, but you can’t help but take it personal. You are working so hard, struggling daily just to go to work because the things that called you to this profession no longer exist and finding reward or joy in what you do is harder than it ever has been. 

You feel like you are juggling mandates, student needs, community input and balls almost drop. 

Every. Single. Day. 

You are a teacher in 2020. More time required to prep than ever before, more pressure and fear of failing, less support than ever, and every eye is on you and every finger pointed. 

You hate this. You didn’t choose this. You are simply trying your best to survive it and somehow connect with each student over a zoom meeting, email or through a mask. This is 2020.

 

You’ve been told to budget for less and expect more cuts to come. You’ve been told to try and find creative ways to make sure all your staff are paid. You’re not allowed to use the funds the way you need them due to restrictions and yet you are supposed to find ways to keep things going. You come up with a plan and schedule that meets the requirements by all the different agencies you answer too. Then they change regulations and mandates. 

You start over. You create so many plans and schedules that your head is swimming. You finally get one that meets all the requirements and implement it. Every day you receive updated guidance on health standards, education standards, spending restrictions and sometimes different agencies aren’t on the same page, but you have to answer to them all. 

Your day consists of navigating all of these regulations and meetings about mandates and funding, while also listening to the frustrations of your staff, students and parents. 

You are a school administrator in 2020. You want to provide the best for your district and you work hard at it, while having both hands tied behind your back. It feels like one step forward, 3 steps back. Over and over. This is 2020.

 

You have to work to pay your bills. You have tried repeatedly to find a way you can stay home with your children as they are struggling to navigate a whole new way of learning. You are trying to juggle work, breakfast and lunches (the kids used to get at school), encouraging your children to keep going, but also make sure they are doing what they are supposed to. 

You lose your patience with your child, see they are at a breaking point, feel extremely guilty and overwhelmed. You know teachers are in the same boat, but you are frustrated that your evenings have been hijacked and now have to do with stresses you never had to deal with before. Free time seems like an unrealistic dream and you hate it all. 

The guilt, the stress, the lack of sleep and the pressure. You are a parent of a student in 2020.

You were afraid, now you're just annoyed. Every agency you are supposed to look to, seems to contradict what they've said previously. You're worried about your financial future, your relationships, your country. You've had to cancel more things than you can count and the day to day feels harder than ever. Everything feels uncertain and you have anxiety you've never had before. You are simply a person in 2020.

 

You see it all.

The frustration. The helpless feeling.

People struggling.

People hurting.

People scared.

You get it all.

But it doesn’t matter. None of it.

You want people to stop obsessing over things they can’t change. You want to help them see that everyone is doing the best that they can and grace is so important. You want to give them this vision you’ve been given. But you can’t. You don’t have the strength much less the ability, to share this revelation to them. 

You are someone who has lost a loved one in 2020.

You see that life is a gift. Struggles and hardship just a part of it. You understand that very little matters in the end.

You wish to give everyone the understanding that all these things that rob joy and peace aren’t worth it. Those you love are all that matters.

You want them to all see it, but you understand why they can’t. Everything feels uncertain and without control. This is 2020.

You understand that while these things are difficult to navigate, they don't matter in the bigger you picture.

You vow to love harder, bigger and boldly.

You choose to cherish the moments, treasure the friendships and invest your time in people.

While you understand there is much to fear, you realize you can't do anything about that, so you live. And some days, that takes all your strength because of the loss you've faced in 2020. 

But you do it, because people need you and you need them. This is 2020.