OK, I’ll admit it. I tend to hold onto stuff. I’m not quite the hoarder my husband accuses me of being, but I have held onto things longer than necessary out of a sense of obligation (they spent so much for this), or sentimentality (I remember who gave me this for my 17th birthday), and yes, I’ll acknowledge my belongings long past their expiration date that still can’t find their way into the dustbin of my lived experience.
But 2020?
There’s a whole lot of this year that I can throw away.
And we’re not just talking about the unwelcome arrival of Miss ‘Rona, who made her presence known in mid-March, and stuck around, eating all our food, wearing all our clothes, and hogging all our time, both work and leisure.
Miss ‘Rona needs to go. But she will probably stick around in some form or another for the better part of the incoming year, especially since there are so many people who keep inviting her back before she can even put her coat on to step out the door.
This year started out with a little promise, even though the impeachment of a sitting president is nothing to celebrate. It not only further divided a country that has been such since the first Europeans set foot on the shores and proceeded to claim someone else’s home as their own, it showed us that the depth of deep hatred toward each other knows no bounds and has no bottom.
So let’s just throw that impeachment episode away. It doesn’t matter now. The people who said “let the voters decide,” got their wish. It was decided last month that the IMPOTUS had to go.
With so many people struggling, I’d like to keep the idea of a universal basic income, authored by former presidential candidate Andrew Yang. Think about it, if people had a basic income, there would have been fewer of us worried about being tossed in the street when our places of employment had to shut down because of the aforementioned Miss ‘Rona. What we thought would be a couple of weeks turned into months, and so many of those places of business aren’t coming back. A basic income could have helped on so many levels. At the same time we’re saving that, can we ditch that argument that paying people to stay home and stay well is a disincentive to work? Listen, if unemployment and the government stipend (that you pay into, that’s your tax money, folks) is paying you more than you would make working full time, you’re not getting paid enough! If the national minimum wage had kept up with inflation, it would be $24 an hour, not $7.25.
I am hanging onto the centuries-overdue racial reckoning in this country, but I am ready to get rid of performative activism. When George Floyd suffered a brutal, public death under the knee of a police officer, millions of outraged people took to the streets, not just in this country, but all around the globe. Oppression of Black, brown, Indigenous, and other people of color has been going on for ages. Now that it’s being recorded, those Americans who live on the other side of the parallel universe see what some of us have known all along. And although allies and activists are always needed and welcomed, it was disappointing, but not surprising when a few weeks into the demonstrations came stories of “ally fatigue.”
First, if you haven’t engaged in any real, honest conversation or introspection, what are you tired from? It’s like people who put safety pins on their clothing to signal to Muslims, who were being harassed, that they were allies.
The safety pins, weekend yell fests or even finally acknowledging that Black acquaintance you barely spoke to before May 25 isn’t making you any more “woke.” Leave the guilty pat-yourself-on-the-back performances in 2020. If you want to really work on recognition, reckoning, and repairing racial relations, let’s bring it into 2021.
I’m holding onto joy and laughter. Granted, there hasn’t been much to be joyful about this entire year, with many of our celebrations we hold near and dear canceled, postponed, irrevocably broken. We are sick of Zooming, mask-wearing, social distancing, and arguing with those who won’t follow the rules. And we don’t laugh much anymore.
A week ago I scrolled through the Instagram feed of an actress named Chevin Dash. She makes these hilarious stories that had me laughing so hard, I was crying. I don’t remember the last time I felt that good, just laughing.
I’m taking her humor with me into 2021. I’m leaving behind Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and all other internet trolls who are only looking to make others as miserable as they must be, living under those bridges.
I’m leaving behind cynicism, and grabbing a huge cup of optimism. Next year is also going to be a tough one, but we can leave a lot of this year’s trash behind. Grab a mask, some faith — and a bit of hope and humor for the New Year.
