Dear Class of 2020

This is just one of probably thousands of letters or scripts that will be written over the course of the next month. Words of wisdom will be delivered by celebrities, politicians, and icons from all facets of the planet. I don’t contend to have any Earth-shatteringly different or incredibly sagacious knowledge to impart.

I graduated from high school 25 years ago and from college 22 years ago. I merely have my own decades-removed perspective and the beauty of hindsight, which they say is always 20/20.

To quote Alanis Morrissette (look her up Gen Z)…

A little too ironic, and yeah I really do think.

I’m the 42-year-old mother of three feisty and distinctly unique girls, the daughter of two amazing and equally complicated parents, and the sister of two brothers who, I think, both love me and question their genetic connection to me in equal measure. I’m a granddaughter, aunt, niece, and friend. I’m a colleague, neighbor, and happy resident of a tight-knit community based in a college town.

I am also sad. And tired.

I am sad that a global pandemic has disrupted all our lives. Like you, I miss the freedom. I miss my friends. I’m tired from the merging, slowing, blending, and homogeneity of life as we now know it. I miss the normal fervor of this season… spring sports, prom dresses, sorority and fraternity formals, scholarship banquets, and exuberant graduates all abuzz taking pictures in cap and gown. I miss the leftover confetti fragments on the sidewalks of campus as well as the eager excitement that accompanies grade school requests for getting yearbooks signed.

I know, just as you do, that “this too shall pass.” And one day, sooner than any of us could ever imagine, the Class of 2020 will be 10, 15, 20, or 25 years ago… long in the rearview mirror of our lives. Of course, that doesn’t help you in the right here and right now.

It doesn’t take away the sadness. It doesn’t make this current situation invalid, nor does it make the circumstances less annoying, less frustrating, or better in any way. Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure there is nothing that I can say… or, quite frankly, that Ellen, Tom Hanks, Oprah, President Obama, Lada Gaga, or Jimmy Fallon might say… that would change how you feel at this very moment. But, I’m a writer and I have a few thoughts I’d still like to share.

If there is an overarching lesson learned in my own life, it is that things never quite go as planned. Life is full of hiccups, heartache, and sometimes unrealized hopes and dreams. I no longer ascribe to the “everything happens for a reason” philosophy. I simply cannot comprehend “a reason”– at least not a good one—that could even begin to explain miscarriages, childhood cancer, rape, or the currently more than 250,000 deaths worldwide from an illness presumed to have originated in a bat in China.

I don’t think everything happens for a reason, but I do think we can make meaning from all that happens in our lives. I do think we have the efficacy to reflect, to grow, to be tenacious, and to choose to keep moving forward with heads held high, hearts full, and with resiliency as the thickening agent that streams through the veins of our unyielding spirits.

As I think about the brilliant minds receiving degrees from our colleges and universities…

As I commiserate with high school seniors who didn’t picture it ending quite “this way”…

As I consider my own 5^th grader who will move (presumably) to middle school with no events or activities to mark this rite of passage…

As I empathize with all of the parents, families, and loved ones who share the disappointment, the sorrow, and the anti-climactic ending to years’ worth of love, support, encouragement, and child-rearing (it is a milestone for them too, after all)…

I can only think of one critically important thing to say.

You matter.

Let me repeat that…

I’ve said it before (credit to “Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist”)… “Big Moments Make Big Memories.” I know how true that is. But as I said initially, and I’ll repeat again here, there is so much magic (and memories) that can come from all of the little moments too.

It isn’t just the championship game or final performance that is most important… it’s the years of teamwork, skill development and proficiency, and your dedication to something greater than yourself that will ultimately matter.

It isn’t just the grades on your report cards, the seal on your diploma, or the signature on a job offer that is most important… it’s the effort expended, knowledge acquired, and a commitment to lifelong learning that will ultimately matter.

It isn’t just the prom dress/tux, the corsage/boutonniere, the theme, or the after-party that is most important… it’s the friendships, camaraderie, laughter, and every day “normal” moments shared that will ultimately matter.

It isn’t just the pomp and circumstance, the ceremonies, or the valedictorian address that’s most important… it’s the achievement, the collective unity, and the life lessons that will ultimately matter.

You have not lost the things that will ultimately matter, so don’t lose sight of what you DO have… that which no one, nothing, and certainly not this virus can take away.

Just as a marriage should matter more than the wedding day…

Just as a life lived should matter more than how a person dies…

Just as “Home” is more an internal feeling than any four walls under a roof…

Just as love is far greater than what is often expressed in heart-shaped emojis, three-word salutations, and unrealistic, idyllic fantasy…

YOU MATTER.

YOU… The amazing, incredible, one-and-only YOU.

YOU… individually and collectively… are something so much more than you can even comprehend at this moment. You are part of global history in a way you never could have imagined. You are so much more than you already were and not yet all that you have the potential to become.

YOU are the Class of 2020… and you matter! Don’t forget it. Define it.