2020 Vision

     Growing up, I remember always being excited that I was going to graduate with the class of 2020. The year seemed like such a nice, even number. It looked great on school shirts and just felt so right rolling off the tongue. Everyone in my year had a joke we used to constantly tell. Each year when we moved up a grade, our new teachers would get to hear the silly, little joke. It went something like this:

Person A: "Hey, what do you see yourself doing after graduation?"

Person B: "I don't know, I don't have 2020 vision!"

    I would always chuckle at that. Especially as someone who actually doesn't have 20/20 vision and needs glasses to see. Now, looking back, it's unsettling. Of course, we never could've known what was to come. How much we would all lose during that year. And no, I'm not talking about trivial things like proms, or graduations. I mean everything else. Every good thing, and for some, every bad one. I lost a lot that year. I lost friendships and family members. I lost my stability, my sanity, and myself. The losses felt neverending, Like a black hole that was swallowing me. And yet, I made it, even without any 2020 vision. 

    Before the pandemic hit, I had just celebrated my 18th birthday. I was still in drumline, we had just gone on our trip out of state. My grades were great. I prepared solos and duets and ran small ensembles for our band concerts. I was excited about my senior ball, even though I had yet to find a dress. I had a great friend group and was convinced I loved a boy. I thought that I was finally happy, Despite all of this, I still had this tugging at the back of my mind, I always had, but I decided to ignore it. I COULD ignore it. I was so busy, there was no time for self-reflection or any reason really to do so. Until the pandemic hit.

    I believe it was mid-March when they stopped sending us to school. At first, we thought it would just be an extra long spring break. Of course, it became so much more. I went through the stages of grief during those first 3 months. The first week I was in denial, along with everyone else. Convinced there was no way it was that serious, they would figure it out. But then 2 weeks turned into 4, and my anger grew. I hated being left with my thoughts, I hated having to do school online. I hated the President for not doing more, I hated my mother for pretending like she understood what I was going through. I hated them for taking away the one year of high school I finally thought I was happy. I hated myself for being so selfish. I showcased my rage in the poems I wrote, and in the discussions I had with my friends. Of course, the anger didn't last long. 

    I began the bargaining stage around week 6. Talking to my mom, and friends. Saying things like "There's no way this goes until the end of the school year. What about state testing?". Then we'd get a notification: "New York State Regents Exams Cancelled." That didn't stop me from making excuses though. "What about the economy?' I would say. "There's no way everything can be shut down this long without repercussions.". Of course, I was right, there WERE repercussions, but nothing opened back up. Slowly, I began to realize that we were indeed not going back to school. I was gonna lose my Ball, my band concerts, my graduation, and my last chance at a distraction from my unrelenting mind. 

    The depression stage lasted the longest. I stayed in that stage for months, truth be told. Of course, I already had depression and anxiety before the pandemic, so everything was just heightened. I stayed in my room, wasting away on my phone, consuming who-knows-what. I wrote depression poems, which I still look back on once in a while, to reminisce. I rotted away in my room until I eventually got a job at a local grocery store. Then, I would go to work miserable and come home even moreso. People were nightmarish during that time. I can't blame them. They were probably going through similar pains that I was. Yet, it still bothered me, of course. 

    My misery lasted a long time, even into the summer when I began to see friends again, at a distance of course. It never felt the same though. I had spent so much time alone, thinking and evaluating my life and identity. I began to question so many things. I realized that I had grown past the need for such a drama-filled, high school friends group. A group that had people who didn't respect me for me. I realized that it would be best for me to separate myself from them, and so I did. Slowly, but surely. 

    Around the same time I left the friend group, I realized I never truly liked that boy in a romantic way. At the time, I still wasn't aware of what I am now, That part of my identity was still a mystery to me. However, I did know that it never truly felt right. I felt like I was forcing myself to feel that way because others wanted me to. I had never been in a relationship and felt that I needed to be with a man to check off one of those boxes on the checklist of things teen girls are meant to do. Many people had asked me if I was gay, and I just kept denying it. I think in my mind, I thought being with this boy was the solution. It would get people to stop asking. And I was right about part of it, they did stop asking. But I was wrong about the other part. It wasn't a solution. This is a conversation for the next blog, however, so I digress. 

    I started college in the fall. It was all online of course, so I continued working and reflecting. I was still in a depression, yet I at least was busy with work and school and had the means to distract myself. I voted for the first time in November, a feat of which I was incredibly proud. I had been researching, and watching anything and everything political that was happening. I had started discovering what it meant to be an activist. I went to protests, read books, and just learned new things in general. I realized how much about myself that I didn't know. I became incredibly politically active and ended up cutting off many people who were opposed to the organizations I supported, whether it be Planned Parenthood or the Black Lives Matter organization. I learned what socialism and capitalism truly were for the first time, and I decided that I identified as a leftist. By December of 2020, I knew that for the rest of my adult life, I would continue learning about this political identity and becoming a better activist, I knew that whoever I ended up with would have to be aware of and willing to participate in my activism, Finally, I knew that my journey to becoming an activist would be the most important thing that I got out of that year. 

    2020 was definitely not the best year to start my adulthood journey in. Unfortunately, it was a very sad year for me for the reasons I discussed, and many more that I will not be discussing in an online space. Despite everything, however, this year WAS the first in my journey through adulthood, which makes it important. If there is anything I gained out of 2020, it was that I am much more than what everyone wanted me to be. It was the start of my self-reflection journey and my adulthood, and I am honestly grateful for the time I spent isolated. If I didn't have that time to myself, who knows where I'd be? I didn't have 2020 vision then, and I don't now. We'll never know what the future holds. But if it isn't what we expect, I think we need to remember to make the best of our circumstances and try to grow along the way. 

    Thank you so much for reading this short memoir of 2020. I really feel like that year was a huge turning point in my life, and was crucial in shaping who I am today. The seeds were planted that year for later self-discovery, which I will discuss in the next blog. I look forward to continuing with this. Thanks again for reading, and I'll see you soon. XOXO

- Rach