Rachel: Looking Forward
...which is not a tall order AT ALL! When I first told Jon a few weeks ago that I would like to focus on the future in my portion of the new year’s post, the task seemed perfectly doable. I’m an optimistic person by nature, and if there’s one thing I have learned in my self-actualization journey over the last couple years, it’s that dwelling on past hardships, mistakes and regrets can do nothing to change them - at least not until we finish building that time machine. I’ve been thinking and writing about hope a fair amount this year, for example in this article I posted earlier in the season. And some days, it seems not only possible but also imperative to maintain hope and forward momentum in light of what 2020 has brought. Other days, however, the despair creeps in stealthily or roars in like a storm, and I feel the need to acknowledge the validity of those low moments as well. I am determined, though, that in the face of loss, uncertainty, and fear, I’m going to keep that sometimes tiny, but nevertheless eternal flame of hope burning.
The jokes abound that we should all resolve to stop using the phrase “In these unprecedented times…” in our communications going forward, but in all seriousness, these times have been truly remarkable. Not to minimize the enormity of the suffering and loss, I do want nevertheless to point out the accompanying opportunities for growth and improvement as individuals and as a society. There’s a fine line between acceptance and complacency, between compassion and self-abnegation, and between agentive hope and the passive variety. If we don’t actively choose the first side of the line, the other will be chosen for us by default.
For three years now - this will be the fourth - a dear friend and shield sister of mine has collaborated with me on joint New Year’s resolutions. In preparation for this post and for the FaceTime meeting we have scheduled on the 31st to drink champagne (not spoiling it by trying to make a cocktail out of it!) and draft our list for 2021, I revisited the goals we had set in the past, I read my journal entries from the last 12 months, and I reflected deeply on just how much pain and struggle, but also how much joy and success I’ve experienced myself and borne witness to for others.
Like Jon said earlier in the post, the reflection process was hard in that painful memories from the past year resurfaced to claw at my heart anew. More than that, as we all know, compassion fatigue is very real and can be very draining to our sense of purpose and motivation. But as I examined the continuous pendulum swing of my journal entries and noted the steady progress on the resolutions from year to year, a different and heartening picture emerged - that of tough, adaptable, savvy women who could survive and support each other and even, at times, find pockets of joy and wonderment in the face of adversity. With the help of our support network, for which we are exceedingly grateful, we’ve molded ourselves into these women, and by pausing to reflect for the purposes of this blog post and in preparation for our resolution tradition, I am hit full force by how proud I am of us.
As educators, it is sometimes easy to get busy and bogged down and rely on tried and true methods that work “well enough” instead of seeking feedback on students’ needs so we can innovate our courses and create a learning environment conducive to thriving.1 Against the odds, I’ve always been committed to resisting this pull toward cynicism and mediocrity, and continually sought to improve my teaching and mentoring strategies. One method we sometimes employ to gather immediate feedback from our students is to ask what they want us to start, stop and continue doing in order to optimize their learning experience. In other words, what would serve them better, what no longer serves (or has never served) them, and what they’ve identified as already serving them well. As a professor, this data allows me to overcome some of my inevitable blindspots and biases and chart a more effective course for the future. It strikes me that this strategy has a lot of potential for crafting my individual and mutual goals in all facets of my life, and quite honestly, as sucky as 2020 has been, it has been the year that finally led me to understand the full import of this realization.
In December 2017, we had simple goals to try to get enough sleep (average 7 hours a night), nourish our bodies (batch cook lunches for the week on Sundays), and draw more successful boundaries with work (e.g. - only bring work home if it was due within 24 hours). Over the last four years, we have steadily moved up Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, and I can genuinely say that starting ourselves on that trajectory - despite how almost pitiful it seemed to us at the time that we should need to make such basic goals - were what allowed us to achieve the resiliency we desperately needed in order to weather 2020. And not just weather it, but also make meaningful progress toward fulfilling our potential in relationships, careers, and creative endeavors. With that in mind, I believe we will have no trouble deciding what we want to start, stop and continue in 2021. What’s more, I think we have equipped ourselves as well as humanly possible for whatever uncertainty lies ahead.
Finally, I’ll leave you with this: I recently had the opportunity to watch Wonder Woman 1984 (more on that to come in a future post) and to play a really enjoyable cooperative game I got for Christmas - Wonder Woman: Challenge of the Amazons - right in the midst of reflecting on resolutions past and future, and I had a thought that amused me. Since no one is perfect, not even a demigod superhero, what would the New Year’s resolutions of our favorite comic book characters look like? Presumably, they don’t need to worry about losing ten pounds or paying down their student loan debt, so what would their self-improvement goals be?
