As 2020 finally comes to a close, Shimbo looks back at the horror that was (and still is) with a message of hope for the year to come
We’ve been through a lot in 2020, haven’t we?
Looking out upon the last day of 2020, a year that for so many felt like six years in one, it brings an artificial sense of relief that somehow, some way, 2021 is going to erase all the various hells of the year before, even though the most reasonable of us know that’s not how any of this works.
Thanks to the perfect storm of a global pandemic crossed with a contentious presidential election and a country divided on practically every front thanks to the dark magic of social media giving unfiltered voice to sinister forces and the morons who love them, each month of 2020 felt like one step closer to a metaphorical apocalypse that never felt more real.
And amongst our strife and suffering, it was all predicated by the death of more than 341,000 Americans–a number that grows exponentially— and nearly two million globally. Those deaths are real; they are tangible. Family, friends, celebrities and even enemies all saw the end in 2020, gasping for air as a prickly virus turned their bodies–their forever homes—against themselves, and for what? Simply nature.
As we mourn our dead, we’ve turned into a sort of living dead ourselves, shackled with worry and fear of a life we clearly took for granted as it grows distant and dark with the passing of the days. We wonder if the hastily produced and very revolutionary vaccines will return us to the old normal as opposed to the uncertainty of a new normal highly touted, but something none of us ever asked for.
2021 feels like a chance to start again, to sift through the wreckage of the previous year, carrying what remains into the start of something fresh. But in that mild optimism, we must also carry a sense of pragmatism.
And what if we get there? What if we make it back to our old lives? They’ll be swiss-cheesed with the absence of our loved ones and our favorite businesses. We’ll be here, but they won’t, so in that alone, there can never be a return to the old normal because it’s as dead as those we lost.
The last day of 2020 is not a cleanser. It’s not a panacea, and it’s not salvation. We did not reach a finish line, and by the looks of it, our trials are far from over.
But through the darkness of this reality, a metaphorical ray of hope comes with the dawning of a new year. 2021 feels like a chance to start again, to sift through the wreckage of the previous year, carrying what remains into the start of something fresh. But in that mild optimism, we must also carry a sense of pragmatism.
Our fight against the virus goes on. We have more weapons right now than we did 10 months ago, and because of that, we have a better chance to heal, to go on and not to lose.
But we will still lose.
Those of us who make it to the finish line of 2020 still have to wonder if they will make it through 2021, and let’s be honest, that’s really a perpetual fear. Human beings treat the passing of the year like a new level of Pac-Man or Donkey Kong. Clear one map, move on to the next and level up.
We’re still fighting the virus and we’re still fighting each other. 2021 will still see many Covid-19 deaths, and we still have an American president who isn’t ready to give up power, so he will start 2021 by trying to upend democracy as a whole, buttressed by selfish cowards who will try to use what power they have to destroy the very thing they pretend to uphold.
2021 will bring with it many of the same horrors imbued within the fabric of 2020, but there will also be new joys to experience as well, and that’s the turn.
Magic is still possible in this menagerie of horrors both real and perceived. We will still fall in love, we will still laugh and in the midst of all that, we will find a way to remain human. While it’s true that so many of us that walk into 2021 will not walk out of it, what remains can still be good, still be vital.
I hope we can learn to love again in the coming year. That medicine and science will guide us to a level of safety where we can break bread over dinner and feel the warmth of someone’s shoulder as they sit next to us in a darkened theater.
Most importantly, I hope we can learn to be kind to one another. It was the kindness of others that highlighted the darkest parts of this year, but the bright spots never felt like enough, and if we are going to heal as a species, kindness, along with patience, will be important.
I look forward to feeling the summer sun on a maskless face, or never again taking for granted the camaraderie of strangers at an outdoor (or indoor) concert. It’s something we should all look forward to. Will that come in 2021? For some, absolutely. For others, there will still be fear and trepidation, wondering what new germ will pass between us bringing with it more deaths.
2021 isn’t going to fix us, but it presents us with new urgency to fix ourselves. Being better people should never be a New Year’s Resolution, it should be an ongoing goal that demands constant attention and a true desire to succeed. We have to want it.
At the closing of what may be the worst year in human history (it wasn’t), all we know for sure is that 2021 is unwritten. It can be better, or it can be much worse. What we do and how we do it will tell that story, no matter what we think we want. So, mask up, stay at home and when the time comes, for the sake of whatever you believe in, take the goddamn vaccine.
America never had to be great again; that’s because America still has a lot more growing to do, and with growth comes change. Regardless of your views and beliefs, only an idiot would ever align with anyone who wants to keep you from growing.
We can’t go back, nor should we, because what lies ahead is adventure. Adventure fraught with perils great and small, yes, but adventure, nonetheless. And that’s the coolest part.
Our pioneer days are not behind us, because we are ever moving, we are in motion as the trails turn from dirt to gravel to pavement and beyond. Because of that, we must endure, and we will…most of us, anyway.
So, here’s to 2020, a year that is forever 2020 with all its shit and slop intact, and here’s to 2021, we greet you with the hope that you will be no worse, but infinitely better than the year before.
Let’s find out together.
Hashim R. Hathaway (Shimbo) is the host of the Never Daunted Radio Network, and deadbeat father to NeverDaunted.Net. You can’t reach him on Twitter anymore, so maybe Parler? (Dear God, no.)