This time last year, I wrote a note to 2020. I thanked it for the gifts it gave amidst the turmoil, waved it away, and asked that 2021 would be kinder. I'm not sure whether or not that worked out. 

2021 was a weird one. 2020 was strange, but 2021 was weirder - and in some ways, harder too.

When we began the year, we were still at home. We were teaching virtually, learning virtually, and working virtually. By the time the New Year rolled around, it was getting old. We were hoping for the light at the end of the tunnel, and although we didn't know when it would be, we just knew it had to be getting close. After all, how long could this really go on?

When we began the year we were looking forward to a new president and an end to political nonsense. We hoped that the crazies would be taking a back seat. But instead, they got louder and tried to overthrow the government, leaving the giant task of repairing all that was nearly lost, and in some cases, trying to replace what had long been broken.

When we began 2021, we thought Covid would be gone in the spring, then everything would be better. And it was...

for a while.

In March, vaccines became a reality, and we thought, "Here it is! The end!" But then people didn't want the vaccine. So we hoped it would be enough if we did our part. We hoped could chase it away - will it away.

And it looked good for a while.

Summer felt normal.

For a while.

But then the virus rebounded, and we cancelled our trips and put our masks back on.

In September, school started and we hoped it would be a typical year, but, no matter how happy we were to be there, it was anything but typical. People had forgotten how to be together, talk to each other, and work together. Kids needed to re-learn how to play together. Teens needed reminders to look up from their phones and look one another in the eye. People were hopeful and confused and excited and hurting all at once. We were supposed to be back to business as usual, and we tried. We adjusted expectations and made allowances. We guided and supported, and were so grateful for how far we had come. We celebrated every single bit of "normal" that we had. And it almost felt like enough.

And then the headlines returned, with graphs and numbers and warnings. Events were once again cancelled. The search for masks and Clorox wipes was replaced with a search for at-home test kits and hopes that this wave will be shorter or less severe. 

So why has 2021 been weirder? 

It's weirder because it sometimes feels like 2020 didn't exist. It was a lost year that often gets forgotten in conversations, or skipped over in memories. It's weirder because we're in a fake new normal in which we pretend that everything is the way it was, but nothing is. It's weirder because we still can't even agree about what we've been through, let alone how to deal with it. We live on a constant tightrope between overreacting and under-reacting, desperate to let our guards down but still afraid to do so.

Last year, as I bid farewell to 2020, I thanked it for the gifts of quiet and togetherness. What will I thank 2021 for? Vaccines, face-to-face conversations (even masked ones), hugs, moments of joy, celebrations, and glimpses of a new normal. Progress.

I hope that, in 2022, we will be gentle with one another as we recover from all that we have been through. I hope that we learn from it. As we eventually emerge from this uncertain time, I hope that we will step into the light of possibilities with a sense of determination, joy, and and above all, kindness. I hope that 2022 will bring health, gratitude, and peace. I think we're ready for that.