The kids are alright

On Saturday afternoon, May 11, my oldest daughter, Morganne, will proudly don her regalia and walk across the stage at Carver-Hawkeye Arena to collect her well-earned bachelor’s degree.

As the big day approached over the last few weeks, I realized that something bigger was lingering in the vibrating excitement I was feeling surrounding the big day. It didn’t take too long for it to finally hit me: Morganne may be graduating from college this weekend — but this is officially her first traditional graduation.

Morganne and her high school classmates were the Covid seniors, the class with the initially awesome graduation year, 2020. The potential for punny slogans for this class was seemingly unending as they started high school — just imagine slogans like “the class of 2020 has a  ‘perfect vision for their future’” or “the class of 2020 is ‘looking into the future with 2020 vision.’” However, these puns were suddenly rendered ironic before the end of their senior year, when Covid-19 would grind the world to a stop. The prom theme they had eagerly planned — the roaring 20s — became a distant dream.

As those pandemic days — now seeming so long ago — stretched into weeks and weeks into months, Morganne and her classmates had to let go of all the traditional celebrations and rites of passage they had eagerly awaited as they ended their high school careers. The possibility of a high school graduation ceremony seemed uncertain at best.

Like many families, we had made plans for the spring to celebrate our graduate. The pomp and circumstance were a big deal for a moment like that one. However, like everyone else, our plans were abruptly halted as Covid-19 took hold.

Not only that, but their college plans, so carefully laid out by this class of seniors, were left in limbo. They were graduating high school with much quieter fanfare than their predecessors...but what was next? No one really knew.

I wanted to write a column in those days but never really felt I had much to say. However, with all the uncertainties and emotions going on in the spring of 2020, I decided it was time to take a crack at it. I sat down one evening. I was at a loss, unable to offer guidance or advice. It was a situation unlike any I had encountered in my own life, leaving me without any reference points to draw from to help them navigate the uncertainties.

After staring at a blank screen for what seemed like forever, I finally started typing a letter to Morganne and the rest of the graduating high school seniors. 

I wrote of the track cleats still sitting in Morganne's closet, waiting for those final laps around the track during her senior year. Those races would never happen — and the cleats would remain stashed away. I spoke of the prom dresses already purchased and altered to fit them perfectly, which would sit unused in the closets as the lights to their classrooms shut off permanently for the year.

I wrote about the day the students left their school, that Friday in March, right before the world shut down. Little did they know they were leaving for the last time, never to return to their desks, lockers or classrooms as students again. They left for the weekend, unaware it would mark their final moments in the place that had become a second home.

My message to these students was simple: “It’s okay not to be okay.” I knew these kids had a strength we didn’t fully understand then. I knew that the times that had us feeling so helpless would eventually become a story, and life would move on in one way or another. “It’s okay to not be okay… for now.” 

I reflect on the past four years, they seem to have passed in the blink of an eye. Morganne's long-awaited rite of passage is here… she’ll be walking during the commencement this weekend as she graduates from the university she's dreamed of attending since she was a little girl. 

Morganne was destined to be a Hawkeye…and despite the challenges brought on by Covid-19 at the end of her high school career, she will officially become a University of Iowa alumna by Saturday evening. The kids are alright, it seems. And we will spend the weekend giving Morganne all the pomp and circumstance she deserves.