They are a generation of children that had to figure how to learn in a completely unconventional manner. Their teachers had to pivot completely overnight. They not only had to be surrounded by parents who themselves were wary and weary and emotional and confused, but they had to navigate everything in a way I hope no other generation ever has to do again.
They missed all the things.
But they also figured all the things out a lot faster than their parents.
They zoomed and conferenced and recorded themselves playing instruments. They taught themselves. It was a learning experience in itself. This small window of time has changed learning environments forever. This small window of history makes them unique from any generation before or after them. This was their “uphill both ways in snow” moment. And when they talk about it later in life, it will be something only they really truly understand. Those feelings. Those long days at home. Those frustrations.
And I’m proud of them. I’m so sorry for everything they missed. Am brokenhearted for seniors. The milestones were taken away. The little ones didn’t get to hug their teachers. They didn’t get to have dance parties. Or proms. Or graduations in some places.
And for that, I’m so sorry. But I am also, beyond proud of them. And so incredibly thankful to their teachers for going above and beyond what they had to do.
……..
He set up shop in my front porch. Instead of at his glass desk and green leather chair. He said he needed more light. So he worked with headphones on and dogs next to him and noise from other rooms and several different music stations from all over the house. He dealt with pacing parents, and uncommon lunch times. Weird food. Sometimes he slept at his desk.
But he figured it out.
And then one Tuesday evening, he shut his computer, looked at me and said “well… I just finished 8th grade, I think I’ll go to bed.” Just like that, junior high was over.
He got to celebrate with one friend. Which was a pretty big deal given the circumstances.
And as always, he celebrated with water balloons. And kiddie pools. And loud summertime music. And sugar.
I only cried a couple times. And I only hugged him too long once. I only get to experience being a mom of a kid one time… all the things hit me pretty hard. All the last things are really the last.
Congratulations my Dino Dude. I love you.
