2020 Through My Eyes

I’m sure many of us have a lot to say about this year. Hopefully, I can offer a glimpse of what my year has been like. Perhaps, as you read this article, you can see 2020 through the eyes of me, Manushree.

We had been promised great fortune and a great future for this year. The beginning of a new decade, what else to expect? I’d like to write using each month in increments of time. Most school-age children were dreading the return back to school and the routine and hectic schedule of high school. I was halfway through my freshman year, but I was dreading something else; my re-auditioning. January has never been academically eventful, however, I’d always be caught up with dance practices for our Pongal Festival and preparations for my birthday. On January 27,  I turned 15 years old. This was the day after the Pongal function, so I never had the chance to think about myself until the day came. I was at that weird age, where birthday parties seemed childish, so I had a simple celebration. It was on a Monday, so my family went out to dinner that night. I have to admit, it’s one of the best birthdays I’ve had. But, birthdays only last 24 hours, so my special day came and went. It was time to focus on the matter at hand; my re-audition.

February came and I believe this is when I became fascinated with the news of a new virus, somewhere in the world. I remember thinking to myself, what if this virus becomes a pandemic, and the world as we know it, becomes chaotic? You can imagine how I feel about that one thought now. But, I had other things to worry about. Would I start my sophomore year in a major that I truly loved, or would I remain in Instrumental Music, as the last chair, and learning a major I truly didn’t have interest in?

My audition came and went. It was on the same day as my friend’s Sweet 16, so I was able to relax, after. I was getting ready for mid-term testing and my Science Olympiad tournament when my life changed. A student in one of my classes had passed away. They were in my French class, and on one of our French Food days, I remember her light and airy voice thanking me, as I handed her a Sprite. She referred to many underclassmen as “Sweetie” or “Sweetheart”. She was very kind and caring. I was heartbroken when I heard she was in the hospital. She passed away about a week later, and I looked over to her seat in our classroom, which was now empty. Though I hadn’t known her personally, I was shattered when I learned of her passing. It took some time to set in; I had learned the news right after winning medals at my Science Olympiad Tournament. I had another friend’s birthday party, right after, and I was contemplating going, but I did not want to disappoint. I broke down in the car ride there. They were different tears because I had never grieved for anyone, before. I’m a very fortunate person, who had never had to face death in my friends or family, but I had my first brush with death in February. I was shocked that a student in my classroom was no longer there after a few days. Her body went to organ donation, and I was disturbed that she was no longer whole. She was no longer a person on this earth and she would never see the future or the past. You see, I’d always believed that death is imminent. We are granted different lifespans because I’ve always believed that fate is written. The Universe had always known that she would pass away at 17. Too young, in my opinion, but I cannot grapple with the complexities of life and fate in one article.

March came by, and we began hearing of the virus trickling into the U.S, and different areas and countries went on lockdown. By the first week, many schools had closed, and we were waiting for when ours would be next. Exciting things were approaching, I was going to perform in my last band concert, and I had an opportunity to perform Dr. Seuss plays to local elementary schools. I thought all these events and excitement would mask the morbidity and fear in the world around us.

They were all canceled. I was devastated. I remember eating lunch with my friends, on our school’s front steps, and we stared out into the mist that had settled over the trees. I imagined tiny deadly viruses hovering in that mist. Would life ever be the same? The day after was my last day of in-person school. Who knew when I would return? It was Friday, March 13th. They told us that we would be taking two weeks online. Two weeks became one month. One month became the end of the school year.
April and May went by with online school. It was tolling and grueling.  I had to stare at a computer screen for hours each day, but my home life had disrupted me every now and then, like little bubbles of reality. I had always been close with my family but being homebound had really changed me. I decided to take up journaling, so I wrote in my journal, every single day. It took a lot of willpower to write consecutively as nothing eventful ever happened. I spent my summer break on my sofa, writing pages and pages filled with illegible handwriting or hiding in my room, away from the mountain of chores I had waiting for me after school.

A day after my sister’s 13th birthday, a tornado left our community in shambles, and we had lost power for a week. This time had really shown me who people are. How, despite the pandemic, people can help you, or how they won’t.

June and July blended into one and we began making short trips outside. Masks on at all times, hands always in our pockets, and hand-sanitizer became my second basic need, right after food and drink. Only one event happened that was truly worth writing about; I cut my hair. This is very important to me because it symbolizes a new beginning, a new life. I had always had very long hair for most of my life and because it was so long, I always had it in one style: a braid. I rarely ever put it down. Because though it would look nice, it would always become a tangly mess. But, I was sworn to keep it intact. You see, it had become a sacred thing to my relatives in India, but it was always a burden for me. I wasn’t allowed to express myself and I fed into that stereotype: Indians are uptight, they keep their hair in one style, and work so hard that they have no room left to enjoy life. My mother wanted me to cut my hair because it was getting difficult to manage, but I wanted to because I would finally get my first sense of autonomy. Almost every aspect of my life was controlled by something else, but when I cut my hair, I felt free. I felt as if chains that weighed me down, had left my body, and I could finally express myself. It was a decision I had made.

My only connection to the outside world was social media, and I believe that’s why I became so engrossed in it. I began jogging outside, for the sole reason, that I needed a sense of independence. This didn’t last very long and I was back home on my couch, with copious amounts of screen time and junk food.

I began my sophomore year as a Creative Writing major. I was pursuing art that I had really loved and could spend hours doing. Online school has its ups and downs; I can attend my classes in my pajamas, but I cannot interact like I used to. The “mute” button became my best friend. I hadn’t seen any of my friends in so long, because my family life had overwhelmed me. I spent every waking hour with these people, and even though they drove me crazy sometimes, they still were my family. So, yes, I had to get used to my dad yelling into his phone, and my mom’s noisy TV shows, and my baby sister’s incessant begging for the phone so she could play games. Each day in October went by with my excitement for Halloween. It was the only thing I was looking forward to.  In November, two exciting things happened. Class Officer elections were coming up, and I had decided to run. There were only three candidates in my grade, and I was the only online learner. I’m still shocked that I became class president. I guess it told me that if you really work hard for something, no matter the circumstances, you just may achieve your goal.
In November, I started my own small business. I was at the age where many of my friends were working, but I couldn’t work in a public location, for fear of my safety. Jewelry making was always a hobby of mine, so when I announced my small business, I was overwhelmed with the amount of support I received. It was the only thing that truly kept me happy during our time at home. I had gotten this adrenaline rush from getting orders and packaging them and I was overjoyed to read comments and feedback on my products. Of course, my small business was on my mind 24/7, but I thoroughly enjoyed every moment of it. I had a job of my own, with flexible hours and I was entirely self-employed. It was another sense of autonomy if you will. I was glad to be earning for the welfare of myself and my family.

It was a few days after Thanksgiving that my entire world came crashing down. I had learned that my mother had tested positive for COVID-19. It was surreal. We self-quarantined and it had been so long since I hugged my mother. She was always a big portion of my life, and to be deprived of that was upsetting. Many weeks went by, and my mom ate at different times than us. We ate Rasam (soup and rice) almost every single day, and food was mostly managed by my dad and me. We basically inhaled turmeric and herbs. I am thankful to be sitting next to my mother. She is resilient and she beat COVID-19. My entire family made it through, and I truly hope next year isn’t like this.

2020 allowed me to learn who people really were, and what their priorities were. We were tested down to our primary instinct; human survival. No matter who we had to reject, no matter how we had to live, we needed to survive. I learned that human beings are selfish, and that’s not a bad thing. It’s how we’re built because when all is said and done, the only thing that really matters is our beating hearts and our functioning brains. Death was quite literally knocking on our doors. It was up to us to let Him in or not. I think the only two things that kept us going were the advice from world-renowned scientists, and our faith and hope that things would get better. I’ve been asked what my New Year’s resolution is, and this year, I don’t really have any. I’m thankful for everything and I’m hoping that we have proved our worth to the Universe. Yes, it hurled this ground-breaking pandemic at us, but we managed to stride through, naming quite a few martyrs on the way. All I can hope for is that 2021 is a year filled with healing and promise for a bright future. We’ll just have to see what the Universe has in store for us.


- Manushree Navaneethakrishnan