Below I have included some of the happiest photos of people and moments that I’ve taken over the summer. I wasn’t sure which photos to use for this blog so I just used some of my favourites.
I opened up my phone last night and saw that a friend of mine from high school had gotten engaged. I started to type out “congratulations!” But my fingers just hovered over my screen. My heart behind congratulating her would be, really, to say “I am so happy for you. I am so happy that you found someone you want to spend your life with. I’m so, so happy that you found someone worth committing to. Someone you trust. Someone you love.” But there I was, hesitating.
I was thinking about how sometimes it’s so easy to congratulate a benchmark in other peoples lives when that benchmark is tangible: a ring, a graduation certificate, a birthday, the purchase of a house. And, don’t get me wrong, it’s great to celebrate those things. When someone decides to spend their life with someone they love, that’s awesome. When someone who has worked for years finally owns their own house, crack open that champagne. But it had me thinking about how many things we don’t celebrate. How many milestones are people passing every day with a Goliath-sized strength and that we don’t even applaud?
We’re coming out the other side of a long year and a half (I think I’ve been saying that for months but hey, a girl can only hope), and there are some things worth celebrating, here. Things that don’t have a nice ring on it or a piece of paper to acknowledge all of the hard work.
To the small business owners who somehow, someway, pulled through a pandemic. Congratulations. Your relentless work, your long hours, your moments of questioning and your pursuit of keeping your business open has paid off. You’ve come so far.
To the small business owners who somehow, someway, did not manage to come out the other side of this in the way that they hoped for. We see you and we’re so proud of all the effort, countless hours and hope you put into this. It might not be the ending you wanted but as a whole, we are just so proud of you. You could have thrown your hands up and not even tried to put up a fight, but a lot of you did. You’ve come so far and all of your dreams weren’t for nothing. We hope you take what you learned and run with it. We hope that you still hold some dreams in your hands. It’s not all over yet.
To the small businesses and all their staff: we all worked hard, we were all under-staffed, we all did it. Cheers.
To the entrepreneur. What a way to start out. Some of you found gaps and new opportunities throughout this pandemic and hopped right into them. Your creativity is brilliant. Some entrepreneurs had such well thought-out plans that got tossed out the window as the world seemed to spiral into the unknown and yet, you kept going. The best of you will learn how to pivot when the world throws a curve ball. Stay on your toes. The pivots aren’t done. Remember, you are doing better than you think. Every time.
To the moms. And the dads. I mean, do we even need to say more than that? Some of you lost jobs. Some of you doubled your workload. Some of you had to go into work when the rest of us locked ourselves indoors. You braved the grocery stores and pharmacies and delivery trucks and waiting rooms when we didn’t have to. Some of you had to switch to full-time work from home and full-time school for your little ones. I have no idea how any of you did all of that and managed to shower, eat, find time to pee and do laundry. It was hard and relentless. And yet, despite it all, you’re still standing. Maybe a bit tired but my gosh, just look at you. You did it! I am sure there are days where it felt impossible. I am sure there were tears. But here you are. We are on our feet, all of us. A loud, thunderous, standing ovation goes out to you.
To the teachers. I don’t know all you had to go through, but we’re applauding. The future generations get some of their biggest impacts and inspirations from you. It was an unpredictable 18 months and you, too, had to pivot on the spot. Video chats? Recorded lessons? Traveling to school with no students? Traveling to school with students and teaching in a mask? Creating kits for kids to take home? Calling those students, checking in on them, creatively changing the curriculum? You did it all and so much more.
To the health care workers. There are too many professions to name but the world wouldn’t be where it is if it weren’t for you. You cared for us, treated us, got sick for us, risked your lives for us. Some of you endured so much that you had to step back and let go of your jobs because when the rest of us got to shelter, you were on the frontlines. You are all such brave souls, each one of you. It hasn’t been easy on anyone, but it’s been the hardest on you (I’m not sure if I’m allowed to say that, but I’m going to anyway). We’re so, so thankful for you. Thank you for the 12+ hour shifts. Thank you for going into work every day when we didn’t. Thank you for holding our hands and wiping our tears. Thank you for working, relentlessly on a vaccine. We’re on our feet, again. Clapping. Crying. Thank you.
To the person who took steps to learn about climate change for the first time. When the dolphins swam in canals and the skies cleared of their smog, I watched a lot of people start to ask questions for the first time. It isn’t an easy road. Learning about how the planet we live on is hurting is an uncomfortable journey. I’m so glad you’re taking it. If you stopped using plastic straws or cut out meat a few days a week from your diet, or if you’re just more aware of your choices: congratulations. That’s huge. Being aware of who we are and the impact we have is the best, hardest kind of way to live. Keep going.
To those of us who took the time to listen about a long history of painful racism: you are brave. It’s easier to live in ignorance, but a lot of us chose not to. When the world was closed and we had an abundant amount of time on our hands, when we could have chain-watched Netflix, we took the time to listen instead. To rally. To sign petitions. To read books. To listen. When the world seemed to be on hold, we could have done a whole lot of other things. But we didn’t. And that matters. Every step you took there? It counts. Don’t stop now.
To you. Whoever you are, wherever you are, reading this. The bombardment of fear and war and death and disease that has been fed to you through screens for the last 18 months has been non-stop. Our hearts and souls weren’t really designed to take in this much, all the time, all at once. It’s been overwhelming. But you’re still standing. Look at you. You’ve come so far.
To those of you who are taking time for your mental health, whatever that looks like. I’m clapping. It has been overwhelming time, hasn’t it? Do whatever you need to stay healthy. Every nap, walk in the woods, every quiet hour with a book, long swim in the ocean, moment spent meditating, it’s all a milestone. It all matters in this big, wide universe. The world needs you, so do whatever you have to in order to be the best version of yourself.
Just one last thought for you to take with you today. “Group trauma” is a term used when a group of people go through trauma together. It can involve a group of friends, a family or, on a larger scale, an entire society. For example: a plane crash, natural disaster, famine, war. Well-known collective traumas include American slavery, the Holocaust, the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and now, the Covid-19 pandemic. Group trauma can cause a massive shift in the way people in a culture behave, feel, work together and raise their children.
That I know of, there has never before in history been something that the entire planet has experienced together; pandemics have often been isolated, wars have been us against them, bombings have been something many of us have seen on a screen. But here we are. United, perhaps, for the first time ever. Of course trauma can cause massive shifts in us. May it be for the better.
Congratulations on all that’s gotten you here. May it make us better, stronger.
We can, we will.
Written by: Annika Phillips