To My Future Child
/I spent the spring semester of my college sophomore year studying in Florence, Italy. I am sure at this point in your life, you are sick of hearing those stories though, so let’s fast forward to exactly a year later when I received the text: “I am so thankful you aren’t in Florence right now,” as a novel virus began to force shut down of the country. That was the moment the COVID-19 pandemic started to feel all too real. This virus was spreading across the globe in what felt like the blink of an eye, but what I didn’t know in that moment was just how quickly it would spread to my own back door. I was ignorant, as was most of the world, as to what was heading our way. During the unraveling of it all, it felt like there was more inaction than any proactive measure (I think that has a lot to do with the leadership of the country at the time, but I am sure your textbooks have told you enough about that). This inaction (underfunded hospitals, lack of PPE etc.) was disheartening to me due to the many warning signs and lessons that should have been taken from other viruses/pandemics such as SARS and the Spanish flu; this was not the world’s first pandemic, but I hope with everything in me that it was/is our last.
When you read stories of Black Lives Matter movements being met with police officers arresting dozens of protesters despite their peaceful approach, while protesters of the COVID-19 lockdown had AK-47s in the capitol building and were met with little to no repercussions, I hope you feel rage throughout your entire body. I hope, and know, that you will be an advocate and ally for those that look different than you, speak a different language than you, and practice a different religion than you. Even more than that, I hope 30 years from now, when you are reading this, that you cannot possibly fathom such inequity and injustice. I hope that this pandemic brought enough light to the inequalities we swept under the rug for so long that someone (or everyone) decided to make the change that past generations couldn’t.
I hope that it feels impossible to process not walking across the stage to receive your diploma that you spent your entire adolescence working towards; I hope the feeling of not being able to hug your best friend, and getting enraged when other people hug theirs, feels like a nightmare that could never be a reality; I hope tears don’t swell in your eyes driving past nursing homes with “Superheros work here” signs in the lawn; I hope you never have to endure the fear of going to the grocery store and potentially bringing a virus back home that could endanger the lives of the ones you hold closest to you.
Right now, I am writing this letter as an assignment that will be posted under a blog thread about wicked problems, “problem[s] that [are] difficult or impossible to solve because of incomplete, contradictory, and changing requirements that are often difficult to recognize.” I believe the contradicting goals is the messiest part of trying to solve these problems: all stakeholders (voters, leaders, citizens) have different end goals (preserving their privilege vs. liberating the oppressed, doing what is best for the economy vs. doing what is best for public health). These conflicting interests have caused this pandemic to become a partisan issue, even if the original hope was that it would be a uniting force: humanity vs. the virus. There is no doubt these problems are wicked with years of history, stereotypes, and so much more woven in, but I have faith that these don’t have to be wicked problems forever. I know there will be, and are, leaders fighting for social justice to ensure the minorities of your generation never have to feel marginalized or voiceless. There are leaders working to ensure your safety and health that we are all longing for right now. I hope you become one of those leaders.
I’ve spent this pandemic looking up to our current governor, Gretchen Whitmer. It has been so moving to see a strong, educated woman guiding our state during this time. A woman in politics is few and far between in 2020, which can sometimes make it hard, as a woman, to see yourself in a position of leadership or power. I hope that you always have leaders to see yourself in the way I was able to see myself in Governor Whitmer.
Growing up, I remember my parents telling me about the national/global tragedies they experienced; fighting in world wars, the Great Depression, the terrorist attacks of 9-11. Those stories and their impact were etched into their perceptions of the world, as I am certain this will be in mine, with the difference that I am choosing to move forward with hope, and compassion. There is no doubt that in your lifetime you will also face hardship, loss, grief: all of different magnitudes, and I hope that you choose to take it all with the same grace while fighting for change.
My advice to you:
Learn from the past, from history, and from the generations mistakes that have come before you.
There is no greater force in life than the ones of love, friendship, and connection.
Do what is right, even when it is tough (social distance is tough).
Take time to slow down, shut your brain off, and gain a new perspective. Growth comes from moments of discomfort and uncertainty.
Be present to each moment. Live it like you will never get moments like it again, because life can change overnight.
Spend time outside and spend time alone.
Use your voice for good.
Work to make this world a better place for generations to come.
Respect and show gratitude to everyone. From nurses, to the police, to the grocery store stockers: they are all vital to our daily lives.
Vote.
As my mom always tells me before leaving the house (pre-COVID and now): Have a good day, be safe, have fun, and I love you.
