Russ's Ravings: What COVID-19 Hasn't Stolen From Graduates

This week I took a drive over to my daughter's elementary school at a specified time. I held up a sign with her name and her teacher's name on it and pressed it to the passenger side window. A lovely woman took note, went to the table set up in front of the school and picked up her classroom belongings wrapped in plastic.

She placed them in the trunk of the car, closed it and with that third grade was over.

It was strange and sad and depressing. And it got me to thinking about how much worse this was for fifth graders and eighth graders and, of course, high school seniors.

This is not how the first chapter of their story was supposed to end.

When schools closed in New Jersey to help stem the spread of the COVID-19 pandemic, I held out hope the kids would be back. I knew it was going to be longer than two weeks, but I also believed the students would be back in their second homes by the end of the year.

I was wrong.

There was chatter, right before the closure announcement, that Gov. Phil Murphy was going to allow schools to open the first week of June. But that is all that turned out to be, chatter.

I was struck, on my drive home from picking up her supplies, at the enormity of the losses suffered by the Class of 2020. Spring athletes lost their entire season. Seniors never got the chance to take the field with their squad for their last hurrah. Never got to unite against an old enemy, reach that pivotal milestone or take that next step in the program's development.

But what about the high school musical kids? Most of them were heading into tech week, ready to show their performance to the world when curtain dropped and the stage went dark.

For some, it would be the first and last time they would perform publicly. For others, it would be the start of something that would stay with them forever.

Proms, trips to the shore, spirit days, senior parties were all gone. Wiped away by a deadly virus no one was ready for.

The class of 2020 watched their parents fight with officials to get some sort of graduation. They saw themselves savaged on social media for hanging out in violation of executive orders or for attending protests and rallies.

They were dumped on.

The expectations of society, of their school district, of their government and of their parents made them look like Atlas balancing the entire world on their shoulders.

And where a lesser class would have allowed it to break them, the class of 2020 flexed their quads and shouldered the burden.

And how could they not? Because despite everything that was taken from them, the pandemic didn't take away their heart.

It didn't take away their memories of meeting their first friend in kindergarten. Or trying to sneak an extra cookie on their account at lunchtime. It didn't take away their first middle school crush, their first pool party. It didn't rob them of the tears shed after a sports loss or after a show closed.

It doesn't diminish their relationships with their mentors or rob them of them things that truly matter most. Connections.

This class will carry with them almost two decades of memories, and bonds forged, broken and forged again.

The Class of 2020 represents the best of us. They are the hope for our future, and they already come battle tested.

Congratulations. I look forward to living in the world you create.

Russ Crespolini is a Field Editor for Patch Media, adjunct professor and college newspaper advisor. His columns have won awards from the National Newspaper Association and the New Jersey Press Association.

He writes them in hopes of connecting with readers and engaging with them. And because it is cheaper than therapy. He can be reached at russ.crespolini@patch.com