My laptop's clock says it's twenty minutes until midnight. Like most people, especially like my W@1 and Program for Jazz cohort, I can't say I'm unhappy to see 2020 in the rearview mirror. Like them, I fear, neither do I believe there's not ten more miles of bad road ahead. How's that for a string of negatives?! How appropriate to 2020!
In fact, I can't recall another time in my life--not even Y2K--when I and everyone I know, and the whole civilized world for that matter, held our collective breaths for what's to come. Not the way we are tonight. What a way to live!
But we can consider the good of 2020 at least. There were heroes or at least leaders who led: Dr. Fauci, Stacey Abrams, Jacinda Ardern (PM of New Zealand, in case you were distracted by You Know Who), all those essential workers who showed up and worked without complaint or crowing, and, collectively, the Black Lives Matter movement. I'm guessing there were, still are, people down the ranks in federal and state government who belong in this hero/good leader group whose names we'll never know. Certainly there are in almost every state's election administration.
Consider that more than 150 million people voted in the national election. An election, it bears repeating for the rest of my born days, that was secure, trustworthy, and relatively error-free. In spite of the conspiracy mongering. Imagine the books they're going to write about the election of 2020!
Closer to home, with 8 minutes left to the year, let me say what a good, good year it has been for poetry, not just for me but for my friends at Wednesdays@One. We lost one beloved member, Delany Watson, in June, but we made poems, poems and more poems all the year long. I marveled at how much every writer grew as a writer of poetry even though we met for most of 2020 via video conference. Not a week went by but that a different member of the cohort stepped up with a new and surprising poem, a genuine work of art. I grew, too! I can feel that growth in confidence, in imaginativeness, in understanding of the art, in vision, in ability. I thank my poetry family for that. Oh, yes, I do.
Two minutes to midnight. That's enough for one year.
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