This was supposed to be a momentous year.
For the class of 2020, the final year of high school held great promise. My daughter, Emily, was finally stepping into her own after three years of being shy and reserved. Watching her emerge from her shell was like seeing a flower bloom after a long winter.
Her senior year was filled with hope, excitement, and anticipation for what lay ahead. She cherished every moment, knowing how fleeting this time was. Classes became her passion, and she even looked forward to lunch—a significant shift from her previous habit of spending breaks in the library.
Emily had surrounded herself with a supportive group of friends, and she thrived as a confidante for those facing challenges. She was eager to attend her first prom with her boyfriend, excitedly planning thrift store trips to find the ideal dress. She spent her summer preparing for the SAT and had just received her college acceptance letters.
But now, graduation announcements sit unopened in the counseling office. Caps and gowns are still packed in plastic, gathering dust in storage. Yearbook pages filled with senior photos are likely to go unmarked. The much-anticipated graduation party has been canceled, and the probability of a virtual ceremony looms larger every day.
It’s heartbreaking. I wanted Emily to have the experiences I missed out on—throwing her cap in celebration, receiving her diploma in front of family, going on that unforgettable senior trip, and attending prom. I was thrilled to see her excitement each morning as she embraced her final year of high school.
Now, she is grieving the lost opportunities to create lasting memories before entering adulthood. Senior year is meant to be a grand finale, a celebration of the past twelve years. Instead, it has turned into an anticlimactic end to a hopeful beginning.
Supporting Our Children
So, how can we support our children during this time? It’s crucial to foster a sense of hope and resilience. They don’t need to hear constant reminders of the rising case numbers and grim statistics; they already have access to that information. Instead, we could highlight the dedication of healthcare workers and how communities are coming together to support each other. We can showcase the creativity of local businesses adapting to the situation. Even in adversity, there is room for positivity.
Simultaneously, we must create spaces in our homes free from pandemic talk. The stress they face is immense and deeply impactful. They need our understanding and the reassurance that it’s perfectly fine to grieve. Emily expressed that she feels guilty about her sorrow when so many others have lost so much—family, jobs, and security. While I agree it could be worse, her feelings are real and deserving of acknowledgement. We are all mourning various losses, each significant in its own right.
At least they can find solace in knowing they aren’t alone in their grief. Parents, like me, share in their sadness, which makes it feel a touch more bearable.
For now, we wait. We wait for updates from the school district as they scramble to devise new plans. We await news on whether senior year can be concluded on a high note. The waiting is the hardest part.
These students may have unknowingly completed their final day of high school without a proper farewell. They entered this world just after 9/11 and are now concluding their high school journey amidst the COVID-19 pandemic.
Let’s remember to be gentle with our older kids too. History is being rewritten, and it’s a lot for them to process. If you want to read more about this, check out another one of our blog posts here, which offers insights into handling challenging times. Resources like Medical News Today can also provide valuable information on related topics.
In summary, the class of 2020 is facing unprecedented challenges and losses that many of us cannot fully comprehend. Their grievances are valid, and we must be there to support them through this tumultuous time.