2020: Meditations on a New Normal
Well, we made it, and by the skin of our teeth, I might add. 2020 has been a bit of a rollercoaster (not that any of us know what one feels like anymore). For me, it’s been filled with the full gamut of human emotions. I entered this year being fairly introspective. This was the year that I entered a new decade of life. I would finally step out of my 20’s and plant my feet on the other side, firmly into “adulthood.” What I didn’t expect was such a deep dive into my own psyche and a complete reevaluation of everything I held dear. Some things stayed and some were released, but I suppose the most poignant was the concept of grief. While speaking to my therapist last week, I remarked how we all seem to be experiencing a sort of collective grief. A single Google search will show that this isn’t a new concept by any stretch of the imagination, so many of us have seen such unimaginable loss this year that is both jarring and devastating. Whether that be a death (or multiple deaths), end of a relationship (platonic, romantic, familial, or otherwise), disruption of “normal,” change in physical abilities, loss of financial stability, etc, these circumstances are normally challenging and stressful to navigate, but are especially so in a year like this.
As a quick exercise, I want us to to think back to the start of the year. We entered 2020 with brush fires in Australia and devastating loss of animal life. The impeachment trial of Trump and tragic death of Kobe and Gigi Bryant in a helicopter crash quickly followed. Then it was like several seasons of the Twilight Zone crammed together: a global pandemic; the UK finally withdrawing from the EU; the US stock market tanked in March before weirdly rebounding; the murder of George Floyd (and Rayshard Brooks, Breonna Taylor, Atatianna Jefferson, the list goes on and on); a summer of social unrest and people suddenly realizing the deep roots of systemic racism in America; record unemployment; west coast fires; the US election that felt like Groundhog Day; aliens (?); and honestly, those are just some of the highlights.
I suppose the most disappointing thing that I’ve seen and learned this year is how unrelentingly selfish Americans can be. As of December 31, 2020, there have been 19.8 million cases of COVID-19 and 343,000 deaths, in America alone. In Ohio, my home state, there have been over 690,000 cases and over 8,800 deaths. The politicalization of mask wearing and social distancing, the complete disregard for the lives of others and those who are most vulnerable, the devaluing of science, record unemployment with inadequate support, lack of wide spread rental protections, etc, it all leaves a bad taste in my mouth. On top of this, we have a Republican-led federal government that is so frustratingly disconnected from real American life that it can’t pass any sort of robust stimulus package that puts much-needed money in the hands of its constituents, aids small businesses, city governments, and the arts in any sort of timely manner, and can’t even do it in a way that prevents multi-million dollar organizations from taking advantage of the money meant for struggling businesses. We are the only “superpower” that can’t seem to get it right. And while we’re spinning our wheels, people are dying and the wealth gap continues to widen.
The ineffectiveness of Congress, the response to the significant social unrest after the murder of another black man in the streets, inequitable effects the pandemic has had on Black and brown communities, the terror inflicted upon those who are only trying to keep others safe, etc. are all clear reaffirmations that America doesn’t care about Black and brown people. It doesn’t care about the those who are poor, those who have disabilities or chronic illnesses, those who are trans or a part of the LGBTQ+ community, those who are elderly, those who are different in any sort of way. But on the plus side, we have seen a significant decrease in school shootings, so I guess that’s something.
Before I get too cynical, we did luck out this year. The voter turnout for this last election far exceeded any other election we’ve had in the history of our nation. We made history when we elected the first Black and Southeast Asian woman as our Vice President, and we narrowly escaped another four years of a Trump presidency. At this point, we’re still waiting for how Georgia will shake out, but I’m proud of the change that we made. Years of hard work by the activists, the organizers, the diverse and politically minded youth, the boots-on-the-ground made this happen. But, it shouldn’t stop here. I, like many others, have had some semblance of political awareness. I’ve voted in every election at the local, state, and federal level, and I’ve done my best to read and listen to the news, but I was never deeply engaged. This year changed that and for that, I am grateful. It is our duty to be aware and engaged in the way our government works. That is the only way that we’re going to see anything that is close to equitable. That’s the only way we’re going to get anywhere closer to a just society.
I’ll admit, this essay started with the goal of discussing the challenges we’ve faced, but also the lessons I’ve learned along the way. As someone who often oscillates between cynicism and optimism by the day, I couldn’t help but bring up my frustrations with the way our grand experiment has shaken out. Yet, we are nothing if not resilient beings. There have been some bright spots this year. Before I move forward, I want to acknowledge that I’m lucky in many regards. I have the privilege of being able to work from home with a secure job and safety net. There are so many people in my community, so many of my friends, so many across the country who do not have that luxury. We have to change this.
As I mentioned earlier, this year has been a difficult one but has given me the opportunity to be introspective. I’ve experienced a range of death and loss in both the physical sense, but also in the abstract. I’ve had the opportunity to reevaluate a range of relationships and establish boundaries. I’ve been able to grow personally and professionally in my career and through the volunteer opportunities I’ve taken on. But most of all, this year has given me time (sometimes too much) to process all that I’m feeling and understand what matters most to me. I’ve spent more time exploring our parks system and wandering my city. I’ve had time to think, to learn, to love, to connect, and to reflect. I’ve had time to test, to adjust, to transform. It has been a much needed process that I am overwhelmingly grateful for.
Even as the vaccine is being rolled out across the country, there’s no going back. This pandemic has thoroughly altered the way we operate moving forward. Whether that be the way we work, travel, go to school, interact with the health system, date, etc., the effects of this time will be sustained. We will see its echoes decades from now. A recent article from The Economist called “The plague year” discusses this. The author explained how social upheaval and innovation often follows the disruption that health crises cause. It gave an example of the Spanish flu of 1918 and the Jazz Age in the 1920’s. We’re seeing it clear as day now. We are in the midst of a new normal. We just have to make sure that we fighting for a better future for us all.
Before I bring this essay to a close, I want to share some things that I’ve enjoyed this year. Books, music, parks, my bike, and those I hold dear have kept me sane this year and so I can’t leave 2020 without a few highlights. This is also saving me from having to do one of those Instagram posts.
Top 5 Book of 2020
The Vanished Birds by Simon Jimenez - I actually selected this book for a book club that I run and, let me tell you, I absolutely loved this story. I’d recommend it to any and everyone. It is the one fiction novel that has carried itself with me since I read it.
They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us by Hanif Abdurraqib - There are so many words that I have for this book. I’ve been following Hanif on Twitter for a little while now and finally had the chance to pick up this book. Honestly, Hanif makes you think differently about music. I will never be the same.
How We Fight For Our Lives by Saeed Jones - I cried. I cried so much through this book. Saeed is incredible.
PET by Akwaeke Emezi - This is such an interesting story. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever read. I recently finished Ezemi’s most recent novel The Death of Vivek Oji as well.
Black Futures by Kimberly Drew + Jenna Wortham - I’ll admit that I haven’t finished this one, but I’m so grateful for this archive of Black culture that these two have curated.
Top 5 Albums of 2020
Lianne La Havas by Lianne La Havas - This is such a beautiful album that I recently discovered this past fall. I absolutely adore her voice and “Bittersweet” is probably my favorite song off of the album.
Industry Games by CHIKA - I was introduced to CHIKA after looking up who wrote the lyrics in Project Power. This album has been on repeat ever since.
Ego Death by The Internet - I picked up this album on vinyl earlier this year and listen to it often. “Gabby,” featuring Janelle Monáe, is probably my absolute favorite song on this album.
Duke Ellington & John Coltrane by Duke Ellington & John Coltrane - When I need to focus or just want to relax and write, this is probably the album I go to the most.
Black is King by Beyonce - Honestly, I can’t believe this came out this year. I’m not a huge Beyoncé fan, but this made the list because its such a good album and the visuals that went along with it were steeped in Blackness. I needed that this year.
I hope that you all have a safe New Year and I hope that it brings some stability, peace, and healing. May we enter 2021 with our hearts soft and our eyes open.
Stay Curious,
-Bronlynn
