Year-in-Review: 2020

 

Well, 2020, you were something. 

Maybe it is a bit peculiar that I decided to jettison the annual mix blog, but still wanted to write my year-in-review blog. For most of us, 2020 was a year full of loss, chaos, and confusion. Our worlds came unhinged in so many ways. Shit, I don't have to go over all of that. We were all here for it. But as I said, it also provoked us to re-think all the things. And, we all experienced the past 12 months in very different ways. I'm overwhelming aware of how privileged my experience of 2020 has been and for that, I am grateful. 

Last year as we embarked on a new year, I wrote with optimism. I wrote..."I hope that I’ll maintain the sense of peace that I’ve created for myself. I hope that I’ll handle any missteps with compassion and grace. I hope that we will be successful in our new ventures. I hope that we will always keep dancing in the kitchen. And, most of all, I hope that I’ll have the chance to meet the rest of my new family in Egypt. Cheers to all of you in 2020. I hope that 2020 will continue to bring us all the lessons, laughter, beauty, and joy. Revel in the highs and lows. Remember that no matter what happens, you got this. You are strong. You are beautiful. And I’m endlessly thankful that I have all of you in my life."

Well damn, yes. All of that was harder than I ever imagined. 2020 made every single part of this a challenge. But, I will say, it did bring all the damn lessons. And I had to remember, as we all did, that we are strong and we will get through this...and we will have to continue to remind ourselves as we start 2021. 

As a person with my particular brand of PTSD, it is necessary for me to maintain a certain sense of control over my environment. At the end of this summer, I got to teach a class on the pandemic from the sociological perspective. I started the class by talking about a video I recorded for my students at the very beginning of the pandemic. I ruminated about how the pandemic had revealed to me some of my weakest points, my rigidity in the face of change. I encouraged my students to see that for themselves. The story was a vehicle to talk about how the pandemic also has the potential to reveal to us the weakest points in our society, but alas, this is my year-in-review blog...and y'all ain't here for a lecture. 

My rigidity is how I've learned to survive. It means having a set of expectations about how things will go. It means planning in advance. It means being prepared. During an observation by my Dean, he remarked that my class felt like a well-oiled machine with activities and participation well-planned...and he pondered in my evaluation what would happen if something derailed or went wrong. I read that and thought THE HORROR! My rigidity and planning are about control. Control is about trust. Once we start to trust ourselves and the people around us, we can start to let go of our need to control all the things. Ultimately, we begin to trust ourselves to adjust, to adapt, to figure out what it is that we need to do to take care of ourselves. Perhaps he trusted my abilities more than I did. 

But then guess what y'all? Everything went wrong. Everything derailed. Every sense of control was out the fucking window. And to be honest, it wasn't just about the pandemic. This year was a shit show for me from day one (more on that in a moment). So, yeah, I had to learn a ton of lessons this year. And y'all, it was hard. But y'all know me, I'm a silver lining kind of person. I'm always looking for the lessons. I'm always wanting to share my gratitude with the people, places, and things that helped me navigate this past year. And we will get there in a moment, but first let's remember 2020. 

On the very first fucking day of 2020, Drizzy was horribly sick and in and out of the vet's office and on medicine for the first two-three weeks of the month. We had to spend two days driving back and forth to Hickory for Islam's medical exam for immigration. Islam left me to go back to work in West Virginia for about a month and a half. We finally sent our huge immigration filing in to our lawyers. We celebrated our first spring in the new house with the arrival of daffodils and a myriad of other bulbs. I won a $10,000 grant to do research with students. I got selected to be an instructor with the Appalachian College Association's Teaching and Leadership Institute. I was planning to attend the Southern Sociological Society's annual meeting to be a reader of a colleague's work. He came home to celebrate Valentine's with me. I hung some lights around the front porch. I was scheduled to do a Wake Up Wednesday talk about Germantown at my university. 

And then, the damn tornado tore up my neighborhood in Nashville and I nearly lost my mind. Spring break brought a busted pipe in our front yard and we spent three days with those damn plumbers diggin' up our front yard. And then, everything started to shut down as the pandemic found it's way into everywhere. 

But there were flowers, #walkingthemstreetswithhabibi, a trip to South Carolina for Islam's biometrics appointment, recording lectures, trivia via Zoom with the Nashville crew, lots and lots of bird watching, games played on the front porch, birthday parties and celebrations via Zoom, my birthday video from Islam, pressure washing the home, all the supply chain problems, working in the garden, home karaoke, TikTok and dancing, all the binge watching, storm window cleaning, online conferences, becoming at home hair stylists together, a quiet Ramadan at home together, socially distanced SNL, everyone showing off their natural hair roots, that HAIM album, those Brene Brown podcasts, that Savage remix with Beyonce, all the homesickness for campus and my office, mom's Zoom surprise party, there was Maud, and Cooper, and Floyd, and Taylor and so many more, decisions made in what felt like a fever pitch, some fights with concrete in the yard, backyard happy hours with new colleague friends who became part of my covid bubble, pine bark mini nuggets, lots and lots of shoulder and back pain, all that assessment and 8.2.b., growing lots and lots of things from seed, painting the concrete porch and front doors, a hazy June and July, protest, online book clubs, buying a food trailer, online concerts, those few trips to Nashville to hang with the rest of my covid bubble, my few trips home to see my mom and she'd help us design the trailer, all the Truly hard seltzers I threw back, the deep dark depression that consumed many of the summer months, Palm Springs (the film),  pickle faces, all my nature books, that Taylor Swift album(s), teaching the Pandemic Perspectives! class with Jennie Ann and Whitney, and then the world came to a screeching halt when my father-in-law passed away, taking my aggressions out on weeds in the garden, that damn green pea smoking a tiny cigar and drinking a tiny mug of beer, that damn AJ the cockatiel who was missing for weeks in my neighborhood, hosting my first backyard happy hour with Holly and Ashley, the first week back to school via Zoom, signing up for our business license on the second anniversary of when we met, the murder shed and Gizmo, remote teaching at my mom's house when Islam returned back to the states, having an amazing lawyer who helped for us to navigate the process for Islam to go home and be with his family for three weeks, all the gifts and foods from Egypt, the slow march back from grief, the endless conversion of Zoom recordings, days of working out of the car when we had appointments, screaming into the void about all the things with Ashley, Holly, and Shelby, throwing all my rules from class right out the door where they belong, our trip to a secluded cabin in Virginia to celebrate our first wedding anniversary, fresh catnip afternoons with Drizzy and Aziza, painting the front door and birdhouse, replacing that tacky gold hardware around the door, those awkward YouTube thumbnails of me, making a new address plate for the house, painting the back steps, the sadness of watching my mom lose all but one of her dogs this year, finally getting to seriously work on our business, writing the shit out of a business plan only to discover I didn't need a business plan, our spice blend, missing my family at Thanksgiving and Christmas but doing our best to celebrate together by cooking for all the hours I could stand, Hanna Jean delivering the commencement address, our immigration interview and that short visit to Nashville,  Dua'a's engagement via video, WHY DO I HAVE TO COOK MORE SHAWARMA RICE, and at long last, the green card arrival. 

Loss was profound this year in tangible and intangible ways. We lost a sense of who we are through the loss of our jobs (as previously imagined), our social circles, our activities out of the home. We lost opportunities and connections. We lost the carelessness that existed before the pandemic. Many of us dissolved relationships with family and friends as we re-evaluated what was important to us and had to work to create necessary boundaries. And still, some of us lost loved ones.

But I hope you'll get the impression from my stream of consciousness about the year, there was loss, but there were also some really amazing moments. For years, I wrote a zine called Bittersweet, and later, I went on to run a record label and promotional company by the same name. I was drawn to the word as it was used in a letter from the pharmacy and soda shop I worked at in high school. The letter was about how after all those many years, they were closing their business. They referred to the feeling as bittersweet. There was a sense of sadness around the end of an era, but they also looked forward to what the future might hold. And I suppose that feeling of two very different feelings being true in one sentiment really left an impact on me. To me, 2020 has been bittersweet. I've screamed at the year more times than I can count, but I also got to spend so much time with my husband in our home with our little family. Back in September, as we were waking up slowly on a Tuesday, I remarked to Islam that we should treasure these moments, because one day we will both be back on the grind with little time to linger in bed, giggling. 

I know 2020 has sucked, but I believe we've learned some pretty important lessons. Even the loss has proved to us what we might have taken for granted in the past. I wonder what all of you are looking forward to doing again once you can? I wonder what sort of things got eliminated from your life that you may never return to again? What did you shed? What did you gain? What will you never take for granted again? 

I'm extremely grateful to the people who came out for the assist this year for me. There were lots of great (quiet) moments, but I also fell into a pretty deep depression for a few months. I had no sense of joy. I had trouble getting out of bed. I couldn't concentrate. I felt myself starting to unravel. And it was a familiar feeling. It was exactly how I felt when I was in graduate school when I was known to drink way too much and watch my life spin out of control. But I've learned a thing or two since then, so I phoned my doctor and got on some antidepressants for a few months. It was't the approach I wanted to take, but things were getting bad. I figured that having fewer and blunted emotions was the only thing that might get me past the most difficult moments of the pandemic. I had to hang up signs around the house to remind me to take care of myself-- to remember to eat, to remember to shower, to remember to not drink too much, to remember to go to sleep at a decent hour. And it got worse before it got better. 

But it is in large part because of the things and places and people below that I found my way back, and then, I was able to get off the antidepressant and get back to feeling like my old self. you know, full of crippling anxiety, nervous energy, and mercurial moods, but manageable.

So, in no particular order, I'd like to extend my utmost respect and gratitude to the following:

The People at the Park 

I've been running at the park near my house for three and a half years. It didn't take long for the guys that maintain the fields to recognize me. Now, they greet me every single time I'm there, usually a quick wave of shouting "Good Morning!" I've ever stopped to chat with them, don't even know their names. But, I know that I can count on them. Beyond them, we've got a regular crew. There's the older fella that drives a pick-up truck and hangs out with the guys working at the park on the daily. He comes to the park 2-3 times a day. There's the older couple that walks at 9am, but sometimes he comes alone and sometimes she meets him after he has done a lap. There's the woman who is just getting back to running after an injury. There's the older couple that always walks together at 9am. There is the younger guy who appears to be training for a marathon and usually runs at 7am. There's the 11am guy who just walks. There's the neighborhood guy who walks his three dogs. See we got a whole crew. 

They were an amazing source of comfort particularly during the early days of the pandemic when there seemed to be nothing stable. The world felt like it was spinning out of control in chaos, but then, I'd lace up my shoes and get to the park and they were all there. They'd say hello. The Parks guys would wave at me from afar. And at that moment, the world made sense again. There was at least one thing that was stable. I thought, okay, I can do this today. And I can do it again tomorrow. 

Running

This year, I ran a total of 675 miles. I don't clock my walking miles, so I'm not sure how many more miles I traveled when #walkinthemstreetswithhabibi. Running is the only thing that kept me mildly sane in those really hard days. When things got really bad, I would wake up, stare at the ceiling in essential dread, until finally pulling on my running clothes and shoes. Running has always been about managing my mental health. It's where I figure out all the things. It is also where I remind myself to look for the beauty. 

Nature. Trees. Birds. Flowers. Plants. Rocks. (or, all the hey girl's)

I suspect we all retreated into nature this year. And perhaps found our place among nature this year. #frontporchlyfe and #backyardlyfe seemed to be part of my daily routine. We got to experience spring in the new house and all the beautiful unexpected flowers that popped up. I had many of a happy hours just hanging out with some birds or flowers or trees. We started walking together regularly, observing the beauty of it all. You may or may not know, but there is a purpose to me posting my running picture. I've found that it helps for me to keep an eye out. Instead of getting lost in my head, I'm looking for beauty. My eye is framing the photograph. It was almost a type of training, to learn how to look for it everywhere I go. My dear husband is a thinker. He gets lost in that mind of his, often moving through spaces without realizing there is anything or anyone around him. On our walks together, I began to encourage him to be attentive to the world around him. I started stopping him mid-step and pointing just how beautiful the blue of the clear sky looked against the yellow of a leaf in early fall. He told me it helped him, to ground him in the moment. I asked my students to do it as well and post pictures of the beauty. You should do it too. Just stop and try to capture something of beauty and share it with the world. There's too much ugly out there, we need to hold onto the simple beauty. 

Islam

I am eternally grateful that when a global pandemic hit and we were all forced to quarantine that I was with Islam. I feel certain I could have tolerated being alone; however, on the other hand, there are very few people I could spend day after day, month after month hunkered down with. Don't get me wrong, we almost murder-horneted each other on a daily basis, but most days, we reveled in the joy of being together. While 2020 did not turn out as we expected, as we planned to visit Egypt together. We planned to have a bunch of wedding celebrations with all our loved ones. We planned to start our business. But again, I believe the two of us learned so very much about ourselves and each other. We've faced some of our happiest moments where we did our goofy and crazy dance in the kitchen. We've faced some of our hardest moments where I held Islam on the front porch while he wept. We've faced some of our most difficult moments where we said some tough words to each other and had to sit with one another and talk through those moments. But mostly y'all, he kept me laughing. And I'm totally looking forward to the next set of challenges for our 2021, because I know with this one beside me, I can take on anything. 

My Job and Students

When the pandemic hit, I felt very fortunate and terribly panicked to work in higher education. I was fortunate to be able to quickly pivot to working at home. I could still teach my classes from our tiny little home office. But, y'all, watching how the pandemic impacted higher ed as a whole was terrifying to say the least. Schools closing. Faculty forced to teach face to face. The shit was real stressful. In addition, the amount of emotional labor that was being spent to make sure my students were okay skyrocketed. But I was hashtag blessed to have a job that supported my need to teach from home. I was blessed to have a Dean who supported his faculty at every step of the way. I was blessed to have colleagues who all supported each other the best we could with whatever energy we had left at the end of a day/week/month/semester. And, I was very blessed to have students who in the face of all this chaos and confusion showed up with grace and humor and the flexibility to just sort of figure it out. This past semester was my first time teaching a course from start to finish via Zoom. I remember the moment right before class started and I was terrified of learning how to navigate the technology, the classroom environment...but they were generous and kind throughout the process. To be fair, it was when I started teaching again that I was able to transition off the antidepressants. While I always knew that I loved my career, I hadn't realizing how important it was to my core sense of identity and wellbeing. I know we will survive another semester as such, but my last visit to campus reminded me of the importance of place. There's something special about a college campus. While we've all learned a ton, I am excited to return to campus, to face-to-face teaching, to laughing with my colleagues in the hallways, to high-fiving students when you pass them in between classes, to grade in my freezing office, and dare I say, I miss in-person faculty meetings- the buzz of the room before we all get started. 

Friends and Colleagues

I suspect I'm not the only one who experienced some pretty significant changes in their friendships this year. This past semester, I asked my students to reflect on the changes they've experienced this year. A handful of students stated that they had friendships that fell apart. I had observed the same thing in my own life. Mostly, I think all the re-evaluating required us to consider our relationships. Does this relationship add to my life in positive ways? And if not, why is it still part of your world? I've lost some friendships unintentionally, and some intentionally this year.

Alternatively, I've also gained new friendships, and some friendships strengthened throughout the year. So, to that handful of people who helped me through this year, I will always be grateful for the times you let me vent, let me scream into the void, screamed collectively with me, provided advice about pedagogy, bantered with me about teaching practices, supported Islam and I's journey, let me cry over the phone when things were tough, or just distracted me with ridiculous memes and weird news articles. Y'all got me through this. 

Thanks as usual to Jennie Ann and Gladdy. You always got me through the good times and the bad times and the super duper weird times. Thanks as usual to Robbie, Taylor, and Russell and the whole trivia crew. You always keep me laughing and singing and dancing and realizing just how ridiculous it can all be, but also for comforting me when I need the embrace of friendship in the middle of damn pandemic. Thanks as usual to a whole host of long distance friends who kept in touch and despite the insanity took the time to connect with me. Much love to Michelle, Yvonne, Art, and a bunch of others. 

I am incredibly grateful to my all-lady work crew. Thanks to Ashley, Holly, and Shelby for being my life line, literally. I shudder to think of how I might have flown off the edge without our incessant group texting. And I certainly would have never made it through any of the 803489 meetings without our constant commentary and watching your faces on video when I saw you check your phone. Thanks for coup'ing with me. Let's keep on. Thanks for all the ridiculousness. Let's keep that up too. ALWAYS SCREAMING INTO THE VOID FOREVER. #alwaysdramatic

There's a whole host of colleagues/friends that deserve thanking and y'all know who you are already. But this year, I simply must thank Wayne, my Dean, who helped us all navigate some difficult terrain, while always remaining curious and innovative and optimistic. We also worked to get a number of new programs developed even while during the pandemic. And I must thank Christy Cole, who I had the privilege of working with on general education assessment and the writing of 8.2.b. She allowed me the space to be thoughtful and rigorous in my approach to assessment, she helped me track down the data I needed, and she was always supportive. So thanks for helping me knock it out of the park with the report. 

My Mom

My mother has had a pretty shitty year, but that's not my story to tell. Even in the face of her shitty year, she has always been there for me. And I've been fortunate to see her a few times over the year, if only for a night here or there. I remember when I started to hit my low point this summer, she let me weep into the phone and helped me to remember that I'm always strong and that I always come through. She encouraged me to the things I needed to pick myself back up. She checked on me daily to make sure I was taking care of myself. And outside of that, she's cracked me up this year. I can't wait until I get to see her soon for us to finally celebrate the holidays together. 

Our Legal Team

Much of this year was consumed with our immigration stuff. And so of course, I must first thank Michelle for putting me in touch with Brad, our attorney. Once we were married and planning to start the paperwork, we talked briefly with Brad, but we had planned to find someone more local. After a few unreturned calls, I told Brad we wanted to work with him, because I just had a sense that he was our guy. So, thanks to them, we are in a place now with much more security and can relax into the new year. We can focus our attention on our future. 

Islam's Family

We thought this year would be the year that I'd finally get to meet Islam's family. We had planned to celebrate our wedding with them over the past summer. It has been challenging to get to know his family, given the distance, the time difference, the language difference. And we had not imagined that he'd be returning over the summer on his own. But he needed to be with his mother, sister, and brother. And again, we have our legal team to be thankful for that opportunity. Too many times, we know of folks who did not realize what papers needed to be filed to travel possible in that in-between status. While Islam was gone, I got much closer to his sister Dua'a. We communicated while he was on his way. I messaged with her to make sure he was taking care of himself. I also got to learn more about his family and their home during this visit, as I got to talk with Islam while he was there and see videos and photos. I'm grateful that he was able to spend time with them this summer. I only wish all of them had been present. I look forward to hopefully seeing them this summer, or as soon as I am able. 

So, here we go. It's the last evening of 2020. Here's a link to the mix, in case you missed it the first time around. I had intended to add a bunch of lyrics to this post, but alas, Aziza pulled some stunts today and so, I'm short on time. I've learned this year to be more protective of my time and attention, but also to let go of perfectionism. Yeah, I'm sure there's a shit ton of errors throughout this, I just don't really care. What's that Bright Eyes lyric..."I do not read the reviews. I am not singing for you."

I don't think the lessons of 2020 are going to pass easily. I don't think the calendar will flip and we'll just move past all this awfulness, rather, I think we've got a lot of work to do. I don't have any grand suggestions for that. But rather, I just hope we figure some of it out this next year. Let's try to figure it out together, one day at a time.