Class of 2020

My oldest grandson, Connor, finished high school this year in the class of 2020. Today would have been his graduation ceremony. But like the rest of the kids who were born in 2002, there is no graduation ceremony for Connor. No cap and gown. No invitations and announcements. No party to mark this important day.

I remember Connor’s kindergarten graduation. The teacher shouted,  “You will always be a special class because you are the class of 2020!” The crowd roared. We knew this class was special.

I imagine kindergarten teachers all over the U.S. were saying the same thing. We never imagined that, for many of those students, it would be the last time they would wear a graduation cap. 

Connor’s life hasn’t been easy. Kids teased and bullied him in elementary school because he was quiet and smart. It was painful but Connor made the best of it. He went to a charter school for middle school, staffed with enthusiastic but inexperienced teachers. He made the best of that, too.

If there is a theme to Connor’s life so far, it is just that: He’s always handled disappointments and difficult situations with unusual maturity and grace. He’s made the best of it.

Connor’s Mom died when he was in seventh grade but he continued to carry on. He did his best in school and kept his pain quietly to himself. He switched schools for high school and made great friends for the first time in his life. 

Like other high school seniors throughout the country, Connor spent his last nine weeks learning online, texting friends, and wishing he were back in school. Today, instead of shaking the principal’s hand and receiving his diploma, he and his friends met in Tommy’s garage, six feet apart, wearing masks, glad to see each other after nine weeks of being at home.

The guys spent Prom night together, too. The got dressed up in their best clothes ~ at least from the waist up ~ and played video games together on Zoom. Connor wore a a black hoodie and a snazzy bow tie. Some of his friends wore suit coats, Some didn’t. Although they all wished their Prom wasn’t cancelled, they made the best of it.

As my first grandson, Connor stole my heart even before he was born. I could hardly contain my joy. I was giddy at the thought of meeting him for the first time. My wish for him then was that he would have an easy life ~ filled with only the best teachers and lots of friends who appreciated him for the thoughtful, sensitive, smart, caring boy I knew he would be.

I was wrong to wish that. Instead, I should have wished for experiences that challenged him. Experiences that would make him stronger. Experiences that would teach him to “make the best of It.” That lesson will serve him well for the rest of his life.

The class of 2020 have grown up in situations we never imagined when we first met them. When they filled our hearts with wonder and joy.

They’ve gone to schools with active shooter drills, in a world filled with metal detectors and bomb sniffing dogs. When they were in fifth grade they learned that first graders in a place called Sandy Hook were gunned down right before Christmas.

Connor, especially, understands how lives can be lost in an instant, leaving families forever changed in unspeakable way. His pain, now at age eighteen, is both private and universal.

I read a few graduation speeches as I got ready to write today. My favorite is from Awkwafina. She understands what the Class of 2020 needs to hear as they get ready for the next chapter in their lives::

“I made mistakes. Just keep on truckin’, keep on goin’, movin’ to the moon. Do not microwave metal. Not even a tiny spoon.”

Good luck, Graduates! We are proud of you!