When They Ask...

Not “Farewell” as some perfunctory send-off.

 

“Farewell” as in Hit the road, Jack. Enough is enough. Go away. Don’t let the door smack you on the way out. Good riddance. Don’t come back. Ever.

 

This past year, with crisis after crisis after crisis, has been one for the ages. Understatement? Absolutely.

 

As in every challenge we face, though, the true test of our individual and collective mettle won’t be so much the events that occurred these past 12 months but the manner in which we responded to those events, apocalyptic as they seemed at times.

 

With that in mind, I ask you to ponder a question or two or three.

 

What will we tell our children? What will we tell our grandchildren when they do the math and realize we had a front-row seat to history?

 

What will we tell them about how we dealt with COVID-19, the unprecedented disruptions to our lives, and the tragedies that so many experienced?

 

What will we tell them about our views on social justice?

 

What will we tell them about our response to the pain and suffering caused by the economic downturn?

What will we tell them about our ability to remain above the fray in this dysfunctional, polarized political climate?

 

What will we tell them about our stand on environmental issues?

 

Yes, what will we tell the next generation? And the next?

 

Will we make them proud? Or will they look back with raised eyebrows and wonder if we did all that we could do to understand, support, and care for one another?

 

After all, they’ll read about the multiple crises of 2020 in their textbooks. They’ll discuss them in their classrooms. They’ll see them analyzed in documentaries. They’ll be curious since we witnessed first-hand the turbulent events of the day, and they’ll ask. That, you can count on.

 

What was it like to live way back then, to teach and learn virtually, and to miss out on many of the extra-classroom activities and festivities that make the school experience so meaningful?

 

What was it like to wear masks and watch monuments topple and cities burn and age-old mores change right before your very eyes?

 

What was it like to see body counts daily, as in war time? 

 

What was it like to protest injustice? Or stand idly by while others did?

 

What was it like to see those less fortunate without jobs, struggling to feed their families and barely scraping by. Or maybe not scraping by at all?

 

As we reflect, we’ll ask ourselves...

 

Did we follow our conscience and make our statement yet maintain our poise and dignity?

 

Did we imagine what it was like to walk in the shoes of the downtrodden, marginalized, and underserved and treat them as we wish to be treated: with respect?

 

Did we view all people regardless of race, religion, gender identification, or political belief as brothers and sisters? Did we include everyone – everyone – when we spoke of inclusion?

 

Did we humble ourselves, open our hearts and minds, and have difficult and courageous conversations…and learn and grow from them?

 

Did we follow the rules, established for the wellbeing of all, without exception and deal with the inconveniences without complaint or self-pity?

 

Did we summon resilience, resolve, resourcefulness, and an indefatigable spirit in the face of this perfect storm?

 

Did we seek blessings rather than drift aimlessly through the dark clouds of despair?

 

Did we – through words, actions, and attitudes – honor those who came before us and faced and embraced their own struggles?

 

Did we model positivity, integrity, self-discipline, and an abiding sense of hope?

 

Did we fret about what we couldn’t do or find joy in what we could?

 

Did we evolve and minister to others so that they could evolve?

 

Did we seek peace amidst the chaos?

 

Did we make 2020, treacherous as it was, our golden moment?

 

And in 2021, did we, courageous and undaunted, do all within our power to emerge from the crucible and build back better?