a reflection on 2020

A Reflection on 2020

Every New Year I take a step back and reflect on the previous twelve months. The highs and the lows, the changes I went through as a person, and the circumstances and people that influenced those changes.

Anyone who experienced the year would agree that it was full of unprecedented events that altered so much of what we believed as a society and then as individuals. I look back on the last year, and I am aware of the ways in which my own worldview shifted. This article is a reflection of the events in 2020 that changed the way I decided to live and act in this New Year.

2020 began as normal as any other year, but the virus that started as a rumor and joke in school quickly grew into something that completely altered our definition of normal.

The greatest revelation I gained by experiencing a global pandemic was how deceptive governments and media can be, and how susceptible society is to fear.

When the virus reached our province, fear of the unknown plagued our community, and the effects of the fear crippled us far worse than the actual virus. I remember watching my country, then my province, and then my city, become increasingly reliant on the government, and seeking instruction, not from God, or even common sense, but from governments. I watched as friends and family opened their mouths like baby birds, desperate for someone to come and feed them with guidance.

There was such disarray in the family structure and the way it was designed. On one side of my experience with covid, I watched the men, the husbands, and the fathers, created to be the decision-makers and leaders in a family, step back in fear, and blindly follow the government’s commands. On the other side, I watched my own father lead our family fearlessly, teaching us to live freely and think through the issues thrown at us logically, instructing us to lean on the Lord, not the government, and preserve our inherent, divine rights and freedoms. While marriages around me failed and crumpled, I watched my parents love each other each day. I watched them laugh together, and cry together, and I watched them lead together. They were a united front, dedicated to making the dire circumstances the best they could be for our family. However tight money was, they made the decision to trust God, and allow their kids to live as though nothing had changed.

Watching these things taught me what real leadership looks like in a home. It taught me how a wife should respect her husband, and how a husband should love his wife. I also learned how to live without fear of the future.

The ocean-deep lies about the numbers, the statistics, and the data surrounding the virus, the cases, and the deaths were completely disheartening. The incessant focus on the fabricated negative aspects of the pandemic blinded society to the reality of what was going on. The media shared one set of ‘facts’, but would contradict themselves the following week. Science became irrelevant and unreliable to me because it changed each day.

These lies reminded me that the only unwavering truth is found in God, and taught me to put my trust in Him, rather than the government or the media.

Covid caused what I would refer to as The Great Division. There have been few times in history when people have been so divided and hostile towards one another because of a difference in opinion. While the mask-wearing minority used to be the people laughed at, they quickly became the majority, and because we started worshiping virtue signaling, they become the compassionate people, while those who refused to blindly comply were the people who were ridiculed. The looks we gave those who followed the guidelines differently than we did; the division between families; the destruction of healthy conversation and debate; the assumptions we made about those who lived differently than us; these were indicators of a society turning against itself. I found myself in conflict every day with someone who disagreed with me.

I tried to speak out on these issues. I had held a strong social media presence the whole previous year, speaking out on many political issues, including abortion, religion, the LGBTQ community, and freedom of speech, unafraid to share my opinion on each current event. I hadn’t realized how sensitive the world was, and so on July 1st, I posted a political video on the unfair perception that conservatives are radical extremists today. The video blew up. The comment section was filled with paragraphs of arguments and hate. Everyone was so sensitive to the words I had carefully chosen and put together, and so my parents asked me to take the video down. Not because they believed in restricting my freedom of speech, or succumbing to the mob, but because we decided together that people were not able to handle such a difference of opinion, in the current political climate. This was a battle that we decided wasn’t worth the fight. Fast forward to October. My English class was given an assignment to study our choice of a non-fiction article, and present our analysis to the class. My friend and I watched as groups in the class chose articles filled with polar opposite views to our own, so we decided to present an article surrounding the Equality Act. After reading over our chosen piece of writing, our teacher told us the article was offensive and would cause an uproar in our class. She instructed us to choose a different article if we wanted to continue with the assignment. This was a battle I chose to fight. I knew that we would present the fact-based article respectfully, and so I had an issue with my freedom of speech being restricted, and the double standard in regards to the other groups’ articles. My friend and I refused to back down, and I told my teacher that was the article we would be presenting on. I was prepared to take the fight to any level of authority because I placed so much value on my freedom to speak. Eventually, we were given permission to use the article.

These conflicts taught me to pick my battles; choose where I would put my energy. I could choose to argue and debate, shove statistics in people’s faces and tell them why their own science contradicts itself, or I could choose to love others and, without embracing their ideas, respect their decisions.

The divisiveness surrounding the virus extended its reach into nearly every other political realm. Black Lives Matter protests ran rampant through streets and social media. Articles and news stories discussed ‘injustices’ and the ‘radical inequality’ between races. The media was quick to side with the BLM organization, and showed one side of every story, refusing to shine any light on another perspective, or side of the story. Then the presidential election occurred, and no clear winner was announced. Evidence of fraud was found in every corner of the voting system, and everyone had their own opinion about who had won. Days after the election night, every news station reported that Biden had won, despite the incomplete election, and still-voting states. These events were two more topics to add to the do-not-talk-about-with-friends-or-family list because they became just as divisive as covid.

The protests and election reiterated the same lessons again; choose your battles, and continue to be wary of the media and its vile lies.

I remember being ecstatic, in the weeks leading up to school starting again, because I had missed every aspect of the routine. I remember processing what that meant, how much I had missed school. I realized I had taken the little delights of school for granted. I had given my attention to the negative aspects of each day- waking up early, the hard work, and the drama with peers. It wasn’t until I had lost it, that I realized what a blessing and joy school had been. I missed my friends, naturally, but I also missed my teachers. I missed engaging with the educators that had become my friends, filling them in on the highs and lows of my life, and having fulfilling, uncensored conversations with them. I missed learning; filling my mind with new information every day. I even missed the people I would debate with. I missed the arguments I would get in, and the way they stretched my understanding and perspectives, forcing me to rethink my own opinions. Watching the seniors before me lose the grad they had dreamed of for years, made me rethink my own long-anticipated graduation. I thought of the people that had contributed in such a meaningful way to my high school experience, and I decided I would walk my senior year differently. I made a personal goal to leave high school on good terms with everyone I knew. I decided to leave school on a good note with everyone. I felt as though I owed that to the school that had given me so much. So when I returned to school, I made an effort to love the people that had felt unloved by me, and show my peers I was more than an argumentative, heartless jerk.

The school shut-downs taught me to cherish the moments I experience in high school and love the people in the building while I can.

I made another decision entering grade twelve; I decided to live up my senior year. I was exhausted being the ‘political girl’. The Christian girl who was against partying, drinking, vaping, and pretty much anything else other kids considered fun. I didn’t change my morals- what I considered right vs wrong- but I stopped being judgemental. I became open to trying new things, and exploring the anomaly of a good time, that I had been repulsed by for years. When I made this decision and started acting on it, my eyes were opened to the way I had treated my friends for years; the judgment and ridicule I had laid on them, despite not understanding, at all, the excitement associated with what they did.

2020 taught me to reserve judgment and embrace things I hadn’t previously accepted. 2020 caught me up to my friends and grew me up.

Prior to covid, I was very wary of mental health claims and the way girls my age would flaunt being ‘depressed’ or ‘anxious’. I felt as though terms were thrown around so loosely, the actual issues had lost their significance. I believed they were real, and existed, I was just very cautious to buy into the hype. The concepts of community, gathering, and fellowship gained extremely negative connotations, and I watched mental health around me crumble. It wasn’t just peers my age; it was young adults, parents, and leaders in my community. I found myself lower than I had ever been. Not seeing friends, teachers, church family, and our community brought a deep sadness over me. Mental health issues became real to me, and I saw a glimpse of what others experienced. It was a growing realization, the importance of human connection, physical touch, and in-person conversation, but it peaked when I went to a friend’s house in October and wept with three people in my car because we saw and experienced the staggering mental health issues within our friends and ourselves. It was due to so much more than a lack of community; it stemmed back to disarray in family structure, financial instability in homes, and finding unhealthy ‘solutions’.

2020 showed me how real mental health struggles can be, and how important community and gathering is.

So looking back on the year, although I remember heartbreaks, sleepless nights, battles in my mind, losing friends, fights, and watching the world crumble around me, I came out with lessons that I will apply and use for the rest of my life.

I will strive for a marriage in which I mirror the way my parents loved and respected each other, during the most challenging year they experienced.

I will strive to put my faith and trust in God before anything else, and I will not look to the media or the government for guidance or assurance.

I will strive to choose my battles wisely, and weigh the consequences of my actions, compassionately deciding if the argument is worth the relationship.

I will strive to love each person I encounter, reserving any judgment, and showing them God's love through my actions.

I will strive to be there for every friend I have, despite knowing the struggles they are facing, and I will lean on friends and family when I am struggling with the curveballs life throws. I will strive to remember the importance of community and fellowship, and I will make an effort to connect with the people I love.

I will strive to keep special relationships private and reserve my impulsive, natural instinct to share with others everything in my life.

These are the goals I will challenge myself to reach in this new year, derived from the lessons I learned in 2020.

I am grateful for the experiences and people I encountered this last year, and the enlightenment each provided me with. I am grateful for God's provision, and I will forever remember and cherish the beautiful experiences 2020 brought me.