My friend and former neighbor, Colin hosts a pretty spectacular podcast called “Counterspective,” on his burgeoning new endeavor Fyper Media, in which he explores topics beyond the singular lens of media through conversations about others’ perspectives. In Season 2, “Counterspective” goes beyond the single story of 2020 as the year of COVID-19 and civil unrest - basically, the worst year ever for many people - to explore guests’ best year ever, lessons learned so far this year, and the things they would do differently to prepare for these ‘uncertain times.’

We talked about the inspiration for the new season pretty early in the pandemic timeline and I told him flatly I didn’t have anything to add to the conversation. Colin approached me again in October to re-extend an invitation. I’d already listened to the first two episodes of the season featuring interviews with friends of his from around the world. True to the podcast’s mission, these conversations inspired me to reconsider my perspective on the year thus far.

Colin and I covered a lot of ground, but certainly not everything. I encourage you to take a listen to my - and other - episodes and then read on about my look back at 2020 below…

Already All Ready

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t join others in moments of letting the weight of this year sit heavy on my shoulders, my mind, and my heart. But every time I found myself asking, “could this year get any worse?” or bemoaning, “this really is the worst year ever,” I felt like I was saying so with an asterisk. There hasn’t been an international news story in my lifetime in which I didn’t take a grateful pause to appreciate my American citizenship. I often wondered what it must feel like to live in a country where everyone is suffering from the same oppression, be it war, dictatorship, economic strife, famine, health crises, unprecedented or even unrelenting repeat national disasters. Both by constitutional design and geographic expanse I never felt we, as a collective nation, ever suffered or mourned in unison, with the only exception in my life being the terror radical Muslims inflicted on September 11, 2001. Even still, I make the point to emphasize radicalism because I, like many who bear the name or practice the faith, was only allowed to mourn for a brief while before having to fear what vengeance someone might seek on me or my family because of the misinformation and fear-mongering directed at Muslims around the world. So yes, at this moment, I think commiserating with everyone was truly an opportunity to be a part of international oppression - to suffer with the citizens of the world in unison.

That said, I’ve never been accused of being overly optimistic. I am an extremely pragmatic person, I approach everything in life with a lens of past learned experiences and devoid of expectations - I control what I can and accept what I cannot. When asked in late March when I thought things might “go back to normal” I replied honestly, “my heart says May/June but my gut says September/October” all the while keeping to myself what I knew to be true: “normal” as we know it was never going to return. [Think about it, we still have to take our shoes off at airport security because of those, and a handful of other, radicals I mentioned earlier. Not on buses, not on trains, only for air travel - it’s been almost 20 years, this is our normal.] A few hours later, the mayor of Denver held a press conference to announce Stay At Home orders.

It’s now the end of October and even though my pragmatic early-days prediction was an underestimation, I can say I stopped joining in on the choruses of “of course, it’s 2020” because, in retrospect, I was already all ready for what this year brought with it.

Human Interaction

As a single woman who’s worked from home for two years, the feelings of isolation and confinement so many suffered in the first few months never reached my doorstep - it’s probably still sitting in a warehouse somewhere with that first order of facemasks. I’d find myself in conversation with friends with young children and a spouse they weren’t used to spending so much time within such close proximity struggling to fulfill work obligations; feed, educate, and entertain their family; and maintain compassion and intimacy with seemingly no respite in sight. All the while, I couldn’t extend much beyond empathetic words of encouragement because every conversation made me grateful for the peace of my own solitude and furthered my resolve not to bring children of my own into this world. [More on that in a future blog post.] What did surprise me was the realization that being perpetually single in a pandemic is not something I want to do again. This is the first time I’ve found myself truly yearning for companionship and not out of loneliness but with a desire for partnership in a shared experience.

In the absence of a partner, screens and the internet brought friends and family all over the country into my home for hours on end several days a week. With the thaw of winter and access to fresh Rocky Mountain air, those video calls soon petered off as that time was replaced with solo adventures and social(ly distant) interactions with my Quaranteam.

What I do miss: Strangers. I miss being able to go out alone and talk to someone new for as long, or as short, as I wanted to. And hugs, I miss hugs.

Economic Downturn

Flashback to my move to Denver in 2018, I did so without a job and never secured one; I was already living a freelance lifestyle on a shoestring budget. Having always supported small businesses over chains or conglomerates, it wasn’t until I had to say no to ordering takeout from a neighborhood establishment with friend that I realized, I was the small business that needed supporting. Like many Americans, I wondered what I could do to avoid impending financial ruin - reading daily news reports on forecast government assistance programs. It seemed like relief was on its way but I quickly learned I was ineligible for the first iteration of PPP because I filed my LLC in December of 2018 and was on no one else’s payroll, making me ineligible for unemployment.

There have been many stretches of my life where I was barely making enough to survive, so I let the inconvenience of of seeking federal assistance serve as an excuse to mask my pride. I’d always made it work, I could make it work again. Thankfully, I have a mother who not only always puts her children first, but was also having an amazing sea-change of her own having recently accepted a VP position with a new company. She served me my pride like a spoonful of that awful childhood medicine and helped me get through what might otherwise have been incredibly dark days.

What I learned: Two major takeaways here: 1) Ask for help. God bless her, my mother just started sending me money because she knew I’d never ask. If you are fortunate enough to have people who are willing to help you, let them. 2) The old adage of making sure you have enough to survive several months without employment is financial advice worth taking. Honestly, business was starting to pick up in January and February, I didn’t think I’d find myself in the position I did come May and June and I don’t plan to make the same mistake again.

Civil/Racial Unrest

Unless I’ve done an incredible job with SEO for this post, you’re here because you’ve already read my writing, which means you’ve likely read my last two posts on race. After publishing the second one in June, I essentially did a mic drop on the internet for the remainder of summer and fall. I’m not going to rehash the details, but I do want to take a moment to address the positive things that came out of pouring my heart out in the public domain.

I ended An Open Letter from Your Black Friend with a call to action and was both proud of and relieved by the actions my friends and acquaintances took. From reading books and watching documentaries, to having hard conversations about unrecognized personal biases, to donations and civic engagement, the white people in my life showed up and showed out. We still have a long way to go, but it’s the first time I ever felt like people were willing to do the work and understanding that that work was more than just checking in on me.

This work is far from finished.

The Rona

I listen to world news everyday, I was already aware of what was coming our way before our "government" decided to share it with the general public. I prepared myself early on for what the ramifications of catching the virus might mean for my health - I’ve had pneumonia three times - so, I made sure to stay up-to-date on what limited findings and research were coming out over the course of the pandemic. What I hadn’t prepared myself for was the disease reaching my family members.

In September my uncle and aunt, grandmother, and another uncle all tested positive for SARS-CoV-2, NAA AKA COVID-19 AKA Coronavirus AKA The Rona. I was already isolated, already self/underemployed, and already mentally prepared for dealing with Miss Rona - of our entire family I had the fewest obligations and, not necessarily the least risk, but certainly the greatest understanding after months of consuming data. I booked a one-way ticket to South Carolina and spent 16 days taking care of infected family members. Everyone made it through the worst of the infection, I managed not to get sick, and we had numerous candid family discussions throughout the process.

What I already knew: I don’t mess around when it comes to my family. I did and will always lay my life down for those that I love.

What I learned: There’s a reason America has ranked dead last in winning the war against Rona. I was obviously aware of the politicization of masks but I was oblivious to what effect that narrative has had on muddied misinformation in certain parts of the country. In this instance, no one sought out the virus, but I could only imagine what the effects of its spread would look like if it weren’t left up to individual states and municipalities to handle the fallout.

Election

In the midst of alllllll of this, we have a presidential election to deal with. I actually have a picture somewhere on the internets from election night 2016. That night when I went to bed, drunk off an entire bottle of wine, I mentally prepared myself for 8 years of Chrump because I refused to feel the way I felt that night. So, I'm all ready for whatever the results may be.

That’s all I’m going to say on the matter. I hope I have a reason to say otherwise.

2020.

So yeah, there’s really nothing that was thrown at me this year that I wasn’t already all ready for in some way, shape, or form. The truth of the matter is we don’t know what tomorrow holds - regardless of the year. What we do know is that we have control over how we react to the things that happen to us and what we do with the lessons learned.

I owe Colin a debt of gratitude for challenging my own perspective of a life lived this year. What about you? Was there any upside to your 2020? If there wasn’t, what will you carry for your future self?