The 2020 High School Grad Journey

It is not lost on the proud parents of our 2020 high school graduates that their journey began with September 11, 2001. Each of these 17 and 18 year-olds were newborns, were in utero or were about to be conceived when the tragic events of that day unfolded. As we gained new knowledge about the level of hatred in the world, it was a conscious act of hope, for many of us, to create new life.

When I look back over the lives of these young adults who have been forced to adjust their lives and forego the many rites of passage that come with the end of their high school careers, I see an 18 year journey with many examples of challenge and loss, but also a journey filled with resilience and hope. Their lives, to date, are book-ended by fearful and uncertain times. But the nurturing by family, friends and community has become a foundation from which I know they will flourish.

This class has experienced great losses, including marathon bombings that rocked our immediate world, mass shootings including one at a not-too-distant elementary school just like ours, ugly racially motivated events, devastating immigration policies, the trauma of active shooter drills, and the deaths of beloved friends/teammates by careless drivers. Some of these new adults lost a parent. Some lost grandparents and other family members. Others were, and some still are, first-hand foot soldiers in their parents’ battles against cancer. As parents, these losses were enveloped in an environment of constant foreign wars, church pedophile scandal, post-9/11 trauma, climate change fears, economic recession, racial injustice, escalating global and domestic terrorism, our own loss of spouses, parents and friends, and caring for sick children, friends, spouses and parents.

But their lives have also been woven with resilience and joy: fine and performing arts awards and outstanding performances, 12 professional sports championships, an 8-year presidency built on hope, multiple state championship sports teams, beating cancer, building a community based on racial and gender acceptance, to name a few. They have seen whole neighborhoods rise to help families in need. They have seen whole towns rally to end teen suicide and stamp out hate. They have seen friends’ parents build organizations, with love, compassion, determination and hope, to find cures and a better life for those in need (near and far).

We work as parents to protect our children from disappointment and loss. But the usual experiences are unavoidable and character-building: cut from the team, not getting the part in the play or band, losing at State, injuries, adolescent heartbreaks and mishaps, debates lost and academic struggles. As a town of privilege in the world, the disappointments caused by the pandemic are small in the grand scheme of things, but in our lives and hearts, they are deep disappointments for which we were unprepared and from which we wish we could have shielded them. Now the pandemic has been overshadowed by the killing of a Black man at the hands of a White policeman and all that tragedy represents; laying bare, once again, our nation’s racial inequality and our lack of commitment to rectify it. This is a pivotal moment for this country and we and these graduates will play essential roles in the path our nation takes.

This class is poised to guide and accelerate new approaches and solutions to local and global challenges. They will force huge changes in this world that desperately needs their new perspective, their love of our planet, their realization of holes in our nation’s safety nets, their passion for social justice and diplomacy, their empathy for marginalized and less privileged children and their newly-minted understanding of the world stopping and basic expectations denied.

They are learning a valuable lesson that came to most of us much later in life - We may think we are in control, but often-times, we are not. So at this young, milestone age, they are honing their ability to adapt - which is a survival skill. It is creating in them a deeper pool of resilience which will enable them to endure future challenges, focus their attention on injustice and heighten their appreciation for the positive experiences undoubtedly coming to them in their future.

I feel a deep sense of pride in this class of graduates, and those who have graduated from college in these uncertain times. They have had a remarkable journey, and it has only just begun. We gave them all the resources we could to navigate thus far. I didn’t do everything right. But I did everything with love. I am confident they will go out into the world, find and create all the joy the new normal will bring and make it a better place. And they will choose kindness, overall.

Congratulations, Class of 2020!

Mixed Motivations

As I prepare for next month's talk at my local library, I am creating a short presentation to try to capture the DIY genealogical research journey I took to fill in the holes in Esther Miller's story. As I analyze how I went from 12 pages of hand-written memories to a published book, I realize the importance of the motivation of the journey.

There are at least five common motivations for embarking on a quest to document a person's history:

1. In homage to an influential person in your life
2. A partial story begging to be completed
3. Curiosity about specific, ancestral roots
4. The desire to preserve a story for future generations
5. The dream of finding a story worthy of publishing

There may be more, but at every point in my own journey, I was motivated by at least one of these, usually a combination of many. The degree to which each motivation guided me shifted constantly as I progressed. In the end, without all five of these motivators, I may not have finished the project.

Esther had been gone for over five years so I would miss the prize of showing her the story I had written. There are holes in her life story that I can never fill - and those who know me know how I have to find all of the pieces to a puzzle. This was a trait which made it hard to come to terms with the fact that I had found all I was going to find.

I developed a love of history of all kinds from my father - broad history but also personal history. So my curiosity in finding my Confederate South ancestry and my Irish ancestors' ports of entry kept me knocking on virtual door after door.

But my main driver was to preserve Esther's story for future generations. Even if I failed to find all of the pieces of the puzzle or identify the ports of entry or show Esther what I had done with her life story, I had enough to go on to create a gift for my children and nieces and nephews, and those who come after them. What I didn't realize was how much value the completed story would have to my family of my own generation, my parents' generation, and my family's friends.

The book has become a catalyst for reminiscing and discovering stories that had been forgotten. It has enabled some stories to be relayed that would have otherwise been too hard to tell. And there are few healthier pastimes I know of than sitting with a group, from two to many, of people you love, talking about people you love who have passed away, their antics and experiences, and the imprint they left upon us.

I can't write enough about the gratitude I feel from my sisters and aunt, so I won't even try. But a nice way to express it was a call I got Friday evening from one of my mom's childhood friends who lives in Colorado. We had a long conversation about my mom and Esther and she recounted some priceless stories that didn't make it into the book; stories of women and children whose younger lives I can only imagine, but whose souls I was privy to and whose memories make me laugh and cry. We talked about how reading the book made her relive some wonderful childhood memories, relish some teen secrets, and reignite old feelings. At the end of the call, my mom's friend said "I just wanted to thank you for writing it. That's all. That's why I called. Just to thank you for writing it."

It won't make broad distribution, as I admittedly had dreamt, in reference to point 5 above. But the story is all that it needs to be. And the gratitude is all mine. I'm not sure if the book is the end of the journey. But the journey to find my family story is one of the best trips I ever took.

If you are in the Needham area in late January, come help me fill the room on Sunday, January 26th at 2:00pm at the Needham Free Public Library. Or tell a friend who is interested in DIY family genealogy. The program is called "Are You Ready to Find Your Family Story?" The discussion will not be about the book. It will be about the journey.