A little over a year ago, Mom and I got to have an incredible weekend down in Atlanta witnessing history in the making. That weekend also marks the last weekend I consider normal.
Just prior to writing this entry, I listened to an episode of the “Road to the Trials” podcast. In it, the runner revealed his choice to forgo the opportunity to run in the Trials for the opportunity to run Boston. For professional runners, the choice to earn an appearance fee at a marathon major makes so much sense because running at the Trials brings unpaid personal glory for those outside contenders for the Olympic team. This runner had no way of knowing that the Olympic Marathon Trials would mark the last “normal” race opportunity for quite some time.
Then I think about the fact that Friday the 13th will always bring back pandemic memories. On that day, I spent my last planning period collecting all the chromebook chargers left in my room, tracking down the students to whom they belonged, and insisting that the student take the charger home even if they said they didn’t need it. My gut told me that even though I hoped differently, I would not see them in person for a while. That Friday ended up being the last day I got to teach those students as 7th graders int hat particular grouping. They left amazing WWII projects half finished, never to reach completion, many of which also met an untimely end in a trash can months later due to an unknowing colleague clearing out the book room over the summer.
That weekend also marked a third milestone. Our church chose to go virtual, at least for a few weeks. I did not know then but the first Sunday in March when I took time to talk to my 5th and 6th graders about the precautions they needed to take would be the last time I would set foot in my church for 52 weeks and counting. (The reasons for that deserve its own separate entry which I may or may note ver write out and post here.)
Those three things compose the majority of my life. It’s crazy to see just how much my life has changed over this single year. Every year brings changes but this one even more so.
Over this past year, I have raced more virtual races than I ever though I would in contrast to only five in person races, two before the world changed. My teaching assignment changed multiple times in the weeks prior to the start of the current school year. The daily activities of school itself utterly transformed and continually pummeled teachers through the district’s manipulation and undervaluing. The church thing obviously brings differences, not to mention all the political and racial justice events have ripped away the veneer that for years has covered a world of difference.
In years to come, I know that people will look back on this year as the turning point between eras. For a historian, I find it incredible to live through such a time.