An illustration I did this time last year as part of a comic. I modified it to include what we know now. You can see the rest of the comic here: Goodbye 2019 comic
2020
For most of my adult life, I have had the habit of naming the years as they finish. I’ve lived through the Magical Year (when my first daughter was born), the Shift Year (the year my second daughter was born and I left my job to teach at the University), the Cozy Year (when everything seemed comfortably status quo) and the Humbling Year (when I could do nothing right). I think there may have been several Humbling Years, to be honest.
I haven’t decided what to call 2020. I was thinking the Plague Year. But the Breaking Year might be more appropriate. It feels like we all took on a weight and, yes, survived but it took a toll. There is a lot to unpack in that statement. But it is best to be felt. It is affect not intellect at play. So, to lay it out—to splay the year—I am creating a list of things to remember and share:
Driving. The highlight of the entire year was the evenings in the summer when I took my daughters driving. The older kid was getting ready to take her driver’s test, the younger one her permit exam. But this was so much more than driving instruction. This was connection. We spent about an hour in the car each day. We were out of the house and we could talk. They are both very good drivers, so I enjoyed just being a passenger. Both girls would tell me about their lives, we would reminisce, and we’d talk about the future. In the car, everything was normal and we broke out of our daily routines somewhat. We explored new roads and routes. We saw areas near town we’d never seen, marveling at the beauty of the countryside mere miles from our house. We would stop occasionally to watch a sunset or a full moon rising. I often would stop and remind myself to cherish the time together and that they will soon be out of the house starting their own lives. I felt blessed for the candid discussion and, simply, the time together. They eventually both passed their tests. Bittersweet but a perfect way to end a suffocating lockdown summer: government ordained freedom and a transportation pass to the future.
Writing. In the spring, my colleague Dave and I received a research award and, subsequently, decided our thinking wasn’t completely off-kilter. We submitted an abstract for a conference presentation expanding on the ideas in the article that won the award. The abstract was accepted but the conference did not happen. One night in early summer, we decided to take the presentation and convert it to a journal article. We seemed to do the bulk of the work in one long night over Zoom. But, as all good collaborations go, we often veered off topic and it was really funny. I remember finishing up the writing and feeling chuffed with what we wrote but suffering a stitch in my side because I had been laughing hard. The article was accepted and the reviewers’ notes were remarkably positive. Never has writing been this easy or fun. The article should be published this month.
Worrying. I saw it coming. In January, I remember thinking that Covid-19 might be something we’d have to contend with. I wrote down in my journal: Sars-nCoV-2—pay attention. In February, I told the faculty to prepare to teach online and they seemed skeptical but compliant. When March came and the university went online, I felt vindicated but surprisingly uneasy. I worried about my family, the faculty, the students, and the university. The whole lot added to the weight of national politics and it was all-consuming. Throughout the year, I suffered from a series of nightmares which I diligently recorded before going back to bed. Prior to the start of the fall semester (while still in the summer) I started to lose sleep over the logistics of going back into the classroom fall semester (my university was one of the few that held in-person classes). Sometimes I would just open the blinds and watch the outside world until I fell back asleep. I’d often awaken groggy with a sense of dread that I discounted as lack of sleep. I was sure someone I knew would pass away. I still have those nightmares now and then. Some of the more memorable dreams/nightmares:
March 11: Nightmare. Outside of the house we can see people dying in the street. No one we recognize, so it is almost comical—some bodies literally fall from the sky. We laugh as the bodies pile up. Not until the corpses are stacked 5 feet high, do we begin to worry.
March 15: Nightmare: We moved to the mountains to be away from the virus. Our cabin has two floors. My bedroom is on the ground floor and I am sleeping alone. During our first night, I fall violently ill with a high temperature and a cough. I panic because I want to say goodbye to my family but am too sick to move. I can’t breathe and wake up in the nightmare. It is morning and I feel fine. Ella or Safaa call me to the front of the cabin. There is a set of odd footprints in the snow outside my window. We conclude that this was death watching me.
March 22: Dreamt we were running out of food and could not go out. I tell everyone to think of this as Ramadan and that we’ll eat once a day to survive. The kids look worried. To calm them, we go to the garage where there is a water slide — it is identical to the rides at the Atlantis in Dubai. We do the ride and end up in the basement but can’t figure how out to get out. The door has disappeared.
April 10: Nightmare: I am forced to watch a new streaming service that shows only people dying from the virus. I am horrified but a stern-looking person tells me to continue and that “it gets better the more you watch.” I sit for what feels like hours and, soon, at the end of each story, the dead person floats out of their body and is interviewed. Each person talks about how they fell in love with another ghost. After waking up, the whole thing reminds me of When Harry Met Sally in the afterlife.
May 10: Dreamt that I was at a conference being held in a large, tall, modern hall with my daughter Safaa. She decides against my protestations to climb a half wall. She eventually loses her footing because she is shuffling her feet. I can’t reach her in time to grab her as she falls. She hits the ground 30 feet below making a sickening slapping sound as she makes contact. I am panicked but eventually she gets up and comes to chastise me for not saving her. She seems fine.
August 8: Nightmare: The power goes out. I hear the door downstairs open. There are footsteps. I know there is more than one person in the house but I see no one. It is pitch black. I go downstairs and look. No one. I go into the TV room (which is strangely located where the garage is now) and open a closet to find a woman ravaged by disease. Scared to death, I woke up. In thinking about the nightmare, my horror was not that she was frightening (she was) but that she had given me her disease.
Distracting. Reading and watching streaming services has been more important than ever. But I also found it more...difficult? I literally have stacks of books in the office but have yet to read one cover to cover. I preferred to watch streaming services. I watched copious amounts of HGTV and Food Network shows. My goto shows were Home Town, Fixer Upper, Chopped, and, of course, the Great British Baking Show (if you are married to a British person, it is required viewing). The Queen’s Gambit was my favorite movie (series) and The Mandalorian my favorite show. Parasite. The Crown. I watched Knives Out again and, in the context of the BLM, it read as a powerful statement about race, white entitlement, and the future of the country. The girls and I watched the Tiger King, Unsolved Mysteries, and Close Encounters of the Third Kind. This Christmas, I revisited old favorites A Christmas Story, It’s a Wonderful Life, three versions of A Christmas Carol (four if you include A Muppet Christmas Carol). There was something about the comfort of Christmas nostalgia for a different era or of my own past. I found some great new holiday films such as The Happiest Season (watch it for Dan Levy alone), Let it Snow and Dash and Lily. The last two I dreaded watching and ended up actually enjoying them. They are guilty pleasures for the teenager buried deep inside me.
Walking. Lipi and I walked a lot. She walked everyday. On rainy days, she’d walk around and around the kitchen and living room like a caged animal. When she’d venture outside, I would sometimes tag along. We walked all over our neighborhood, weaving back and forth through various streets to make the walk longer. We would often talk about work but then she’d say something like: “I love what they did to this house…” and we go see it. We became active neighbors often visiting the communal garden in the field behind our house. As we’d pass on our walk, at a distance we would catch up with everyone. Sometimes we go walking after dark to avoid the heat of summer. Even going to get the mail at midnight felt perfectly normal and needed. These walks were something we did before the pandemic and will do afterward. But they feel different, more meaningful now.
Worrying Part 2. The world seemed to be falling apart before the virus. It hasn’t gotten better. I will reject change for stupidity’s sake but will, if forced, buckle down and, quickly, learn to see the opportunity. But it seems that the virus laid bare how badly everything is managed and how many in charge are not immune from bad decision-making. I won’t dwell on it but the consequences now seem so dire and we utterly failed on multiple fronts. To complicate matters, 40% or more of us showed themselves to be cold, selfish, quasi-sociopathic. While I still refuse to let go of my belief in the good of people, I realize now that a lot of us are just painfully ignorant and do not care. That is a monumental realization. If we want change we have to do it ourselves and that others, who cannot see past the short-term self-interest, will actively be moving in the opposite direction. As we go back into the classroom with new variants of the virus and budget woes, I again worry for students, faculty colleagues, family, and friends. It is a different scale problem but one just as dire. In every aspect of our lives, there isn’t one problem but layer upon layer of them. Good luck. Just because we traded a 1 for a 0 doesn’t mean we fixed anything.
Losing. We did lose people we knew. I am sure we all know somebody that has died. In fact, 1 out of every 1000 Americans lost their life. When you know someone it is different. Any death is hard normally. But this year stung a little more because it all seemed somewhat preventable. The people I knew that passed away this year were quiet, helpful, and kind. The type of people you hope and assume will be around forever.
Learning. Life moves on and I found ways to keep myself pleasantly distracted. There are so many conferences that I’ve always wanted to attend but could never afford. This year they were low cost and online. I attended so many remarkable presentations and learned a lot. I was, beyond a doubt, inspired. I attended Playgrounds (design and entertainment), Siggraph (new technologies), Lightbox Expo (concept and character design), UCDA (design and higher education), and Adobe MAX (Adobe products showcase and creative disciplines). I feel quite fortunate. This was distraction with a purpose.
Admiring. For every selfish, incompetent person exposed, there was another that revealed cool-headed careful planning and selfless concern. I felt incredibly fortunate to be working with my colleagues in my program who rose to each and every challenge. They planned, prepared, taught, struggled, challenged, advised, listened, and cared. Whenever I felt unsure or concerned, every single one of them came to the rescue and offered help. I hope to be as helpful.
Agitating. Things need to change. Systems and structures aren’t working for a lot of us and we need new ideas and measured but daring thinking. We sat at home and watched with bated breath, fearing the worst and hoping for change. We voted, we did our professional duty, we wrote letters, we screamed, we called, and some of us marched. We went above and beyond to keep those in our charge ALIVE, enlightened, and entertained. And what did we get for it? Nothing really. That builds resentment. As the New Year unfolds there unfortunately isn’t a new story. There isn’t understanding or real appreciation. So, we will make that change and we will be less than complicit or malleable. And when it is safe we will demand something real and different or we will move on.