So you're a high school senior.
Congratulations. And
my condolences.
For many of you, this was supposed to be the summer you were courted by
college admissions officers who showed you state-of-the-art classrooms and impeccably
staged dorm rooms. You were supposed to
get irrationally excited about That One School You Loved At First Sight and you
were supposed to visit the bookstore and buy the sweatshirt, ripping the tags
off even before you left the building so you could wear it on the ride home.
You were supposed to go back to school at the end of this month,
walking a little taller than your natural height, because you are a senior, dammit. You know these halls like the back of your
hand. You were supposed to smile at the
teachers and they were supposed to smile back, a secret exchange that suggests you
know they’re just fallible human beings, but you promise not to let the freshmen
know. They haven’t earned the right
yet.
You were supposed to relax into your seat on that first day
knowing it was your “last first” day, and you were supposed to soak in the intoxicating
feeling of familiarity that breeds (not contempt but) nostalgic affection. Everything would look a little
smaller, somehow. And you were supposed
to enjoy every fleeting minute of it.
Instead, you’re facing a tough decision. Your parents read an email from the superintendent
aloud to you, citing the third iteration of a back-to-school plan that now
includes a choice between two-day-a-week in-person learning or staying in your
room for another month.
Or three.
Or nine.
They look at you blankly and ask, “What do you want
to do?” because they know you aren’t a child anymore. You’re 18 (or nearing 18) and the decision is
primarily, if not exclusively, your own.
You struggle. As parents, we're used to watching you struggle, but we can’t
help the way we want to help. The way we’re
used to helping. We can’t assure you we’ve
been there before. We can’t tell you
what we did at your age. These are
uncharted waters, and you are a rudderless crew.
Last year's seniors had it tough, no doubt. They missed out on their proms. They missed out on graduation ceremonies and
senior class trips and “skip day.” But for the most part, they had their post-graduation plans
buttoned up when the pandemic hit. And
when it did hit, they didn’t have a decision to make. They had a decision made for them.
As a community, we bent over backward to make them feel
special, in every way imaginable.
We chalked their driveways and organized parades and painted banners and left pick-me-up
presents on their doorsteps.
(Psst...don't expect the same.)
It’s not that we don’t recognize your losses, or love you any less. It's just that
we adults (and American adults in particular) have notoriously short attention
spans. We are full of compassion in a moment
of crisis, but we grow tired and cynical rather quickly. (Consider, for example, how we lauded your teachers
as heroes in March, and called them cowards by mid-July.)
But here’s the thing.
You aren’t adults yet.
You do not tire quickly, and you are not ruined by cynicism. You are compassionate and resilient and
creative. I know this,
because I know so many of you. I’ve been
your youth leader since you were in 8th grade. I’ve been on mission trips with you. I’ve stayed up overnight with you. I’m raising one of you in my own home.
Ok, so you may not have fully developed frontal lobes, and you occasionally make dumb decisions as a result. But in many ways, you’re smarter than we are. And that’s why you cannot make a wrong
decision about the start of school, as long as the decision is yours to make.
If you decide to return to school, it is not because you are reckless
or selfish. You’ve weighed the risks and
you’ve considered the alternatives and you’ve made an unspeakably difficult
choice that your parents and their parents never had to make.
If you decide to stay home, it is not because you are cowardly or
lazy. (See the reasons above.)
And if you’re still hesitating,
I suspect it’s in part because you're afraid of being judged. Know this: we adults are notoriously judgmental.
While you’re busy lifting each other up on Instagram with heart emojis and gushing compliments
and unabashed expressions of genuine affection, we’re over here trashing each other over political memes on
Facebook (look it up...it's a thing).
Judge you? We cannot
hold a candle to you.
I’m effing tired of the word “unprecedented.” But that’s where we are. More to the point, in this moment, it’s where
YOU are. You are the class of 2021, beginning
a senior year you never imagined, and do not deserve.
For whatever it’s worth, I am rooting for you. But since those frontal lobes are not fully
developed just yet, and because that’s the ONE thing I have over you, I’ll
leave you with this:
Wear your mask, wash your hands, and do your homework.
You’ve got this, seniors.
xo
Kara
