Of all the personally identifiable numbers I have it’s only fitting this one is the last one issued to me in 2020. At 8 am this morning I was one of many school folks reporting to the Public Safety Building where our local firefighters administered the first round of COVID vaccines to those who were quick to sign up and selected in the staggered roll out. I’m not going to share too much on details here other than to encourage folks to do their homework and decide accordingly; the shot itself was no different than any other with basically no discomfort although tomorrow I’m told I’ll feel some aches similar to having a tetanus shot.
As we approach the end of this unbelievable year, I’ve had a few reflections over this holiday break. It wasn’t that long ago when I was leading more than one school system in setting their long range plans and the buzz at the time without fail was some cutesy reference to 20-20 vision. All of us back then thought it was so clever to build strategic plans that forecast how grand the year 2020 would be. Maybe we should have paid more attention to this guy back in 2010.
So on this break, despite all the differences it has presented, I’ve found lots of familiar comforts as well. As a family we started our holiday in cold country where basically everything was shut down so we learned to stare at each other a bit longer. We actually had some break though smiles in all the togetherness including a final mishap on my part that almost garnered us some international attention. On Christmas day, my youngest learned a valuable lesson in the agony of defeat. A tradition of sorts from my mother is to give lottery tickets as stocking stuffers (and yes she has stockings for us all) and while our time together this year was the shortest ever, it was long enough for my son to learn about instant fortunes. He scratched off his ticket, studied it for a bit, then cautiously sent it my way thinking he had just won $300. I took the time myself to review and came to the same conclusion. Then, like every family Christmas story, my big brother took a look and pointed out what we had both failed to see – a partial scratch off reveals an “O” but when you finish clearing the card you’re left with a “Q” which sends you back to the counter to buy another hopeful winner. My son’s $300 “BROTH” needed to be “BRQTH” for a winner!
And that seemed to sum up this year in spades for me. I took my car in for an oil change before my older son and I traveled for his tennis instruction, and I came out needing new tires. We then drove 1,300 miles on our semi-routine roundtrip journey across four states and back. While there I got food to-go from a local joint and I struck up a conversation with the college-aged kid who took my order. She went to the flagship state school but had spent her intro freshman semester at home with her mom because the school moved to fully online instruction. She was mad but what really broke my heart was her strong sense of guilt; she shared with me how hard her mom had worked to make sure she could attend her first choice college only to experience it from her childhood bedroom. Her stranger testimony seemed neighborly at the same time. And as my son and I made our comeback drive we spent the last 150 miles fighting rain and wrecks. The last one involved a fishtail directly in front of us that bounced off a guard rail and turned back into oncoming traffic – cringe worthy stuff but appeared to end without catastrophe.
So on this final day of 2020, it befittingly has rained nonstop. It’s cold and dreary with a 100% chance of continued precipitation as I write this last entry. We decided to pamper a bit and order takeout; predictably the order was wrong. By the time I got home (because I never check at the restaurant like I’m supposed to says someone in my household) my oldest was already asleep so we had plenty to eat!
2020 was a gut check year – it doesn’t take a resolution to know we have much to be thankful for and as a broader school community we are uniquely positioned to make sure we’re more than a January gym membership.
What if? Why Not? 