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It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas 2020

December 23, 2021   ·   0 Comments

Quick: Can you define the word hope without using the word hope as part of the definition? (I’ll give you a minute).

The other day, I had to wish my students a happy holiday and could only hope that I would see them in the new year. If the past couple of years has taught us anything, it’s that nothing is certain — and when there is no certainty, there is only hope.

“I hope Santa got me everything on my wish list.”

“I hope my parents will be home when I get there.”

“I hope it’s a boy.”

“I hope that we’ll get through these maddening times.”

“I hope to see you after the break.”

Hope is a response to something that is seemingly beyond our control. Over the past two years there’s been plenty of ‘hoping’ going on. I think the opening line of Ali Smith’s brilliant novel “Autumn” sums up the past two years: “It was the worst of times; it was the worst of times.”

At times, these times have felt like the worst of times. Reading the newspaper this weekend put me in a foul mood. Every page I turned, every headline I read, just sent me further and further down a rabbit hole of despair: Climate change is putting a piece of our national identity at risk; Ottawa urged to speed up help after Afghan girl’s death; Canadian ‘experience hurdle’ kills too many newcomers hopes; Inflation rising; Omicron will be the dominant strain by week’s end. Even the mini-series reviewed by the Globe’s TV critic was about — you guessed it: a pandemic. Doom, gloom and misery spreading like a virus. I didn’t feel well after I finished the paper; I felt exhausted, and I hadn’t even finished my first cup of coffee. Whatever happened to the Comics section of the newspaper?

And this, after it started to feel like we were close, close to something like normalcy. Stadiums were full, restaurants were up and running, and most importantly, our children were back in school. I was back in a classroom full of students. There was Dani, and Ciara. I only just found out that Trevor and Jessica were dating (she told me not to tell her parents); Al-Shadain was trying – not hard enough – to make it to class on time. Renee sat in the back, hoping I wouldn’t call on her to share her writing prompt response. Shaland’s hearing-aid was broken so she asked to sit in front of the class; she had a hard time hearing people speaking through a mask. Alex wants to be a welder; he makes bracelets on the side. It was good; we found our way into a nice groove. We were all happy to be somewhere other than home.

When the school day ended, I hurried home so that I could pick up my own kids from school. We’d talk about our day, what we were having for dinner and, more importantly, what we were having for dessert. In the evening, I’d drive my son to soccer. My daughter went out for walks with my wife, running through names for our new puppy. And then the numbers started rising. Rumors started to swirl; colleagues were making bets. The government was set to make another announcement at 3:30.

It was the worst of times, again.

It’s not easy being hopeful. Actually, check that — it is easy being hopeful. Because it doesn’t take much to hope for something. And this is why I struggle when people say that they are ‘hopeful’ that things will get better. Hope is a quick thought, like a quick gift from Shopper’s Drug Mart on Christmas Eve. For me, it’s the time you put into the gift that matters more than anything.

I’m done with hoping. We need to get our hands dirty and start trying to make things happen instead of just hoping that they will. We need to find ways to make things better, for everyone. We have to find new ways to live with one another, new ways that respect the environment while respecting the rights of people to chase their dreams and prosper, the same way that we were allowed to chase after ours. We need to try to better understand why people think the way they do and see that it’s never as easy as some people suggest. We’re living in complicated times. We are a complicated species.

We also have to understand, that for some, the COVID pandemic is not the only pandemic that they’re dealing with. What about the mental health pandemic? The opioid pandemic? Racism? Misogyny? Poverty? You didn’t think there was just one pandemic going on, did you? Check your privilege, please (admittedly, I had to check my mine). Our most basic needs are harder and harder to come by. The rising costs; the rising numbers. These are trying times. Yet try, we must.

It looks as if Christmas 2021 is going to look a lot like Christmas 2020. Hoping that it was going to be different didn’t help make things any different, did it? We need to ask ourselves what we can all do to make sure that Christmas 2022 is a Christmas happening in the best of times possible. If you’re giving a loved one a Christmas card this holiday season, don’t write that you hope they have a happy holiday; do everything you can to make sure that they do.

Is that too much to ask? Or is that me just being hopeful?

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