On Being Forgot

I have no lingering affection for 2020. 

I lost friends. I lost family. It was a horrid year, full of death and devastation, grifting and grief. (And much as I would like to wax political, I shall refrain from giving anyone the satisfaction, especially himself.) 

And I see many, many people—myself included—looking forward at 2021 with a wild, undeserved hope, while vowing to put 2020 in mothballs: to forget. To archive the epoch and crash the drive, perhaps striking it with a hammer for good measure. 

But unpopular as my sentiment may be, I think we do this at our peril. 

In the 1981 film Excalibur, Merlin delivers an ominous line that has stayed with me since I first heard it in the theater some 40 years ago: “For it is the doom of men that they forget.”

In other words: We best remember the lessons we learned (or didn’t) in 2020, so as we barrel full-tilt into 2021, we’ll know better how to cope. 

What did we learn?

We learned that climate change is real, and it is affecting us now. Today. The hundreds of thousands of dead koalas and wallabies in Australia, the dozens of dead people, the hundreds of thousands of acres of charred landscape in Arizona, California and around the world, the storms, the floods—Mother Nature told us in no uncertain terms that she is pissed, and she is coming for us. (Can you blame her?)

We best listen.

We learned that white privilege is a thing, and the Confederacy never did surrender. We learned that lynchings still happen, only now they’re done in broad daylight by those who wear white skin and often, badges. And hopefully, we learned well that Black, Indigenous and People of Color are over it, and it’s past time for white Americans to put our money where our mouths are with the whole “all people are created equal” thing. 

We best listen.

We learned that we had a Pandemic Office in the White House for a reason. We have the CDC for a reason. We have science, by God, for a reason. And when we ignore those things, we die. In masses. And instead of listening to the scientists about how to cope with a pandemic, we now have to ask them how to cope with the bodies we don’t have room for in the morgue.

We best listen. 

We learned that a pandemic makes for a great, post-carbon-fuel trial run. That when we take the cars and trucks and buses off the roads, and ground the planes, well, the air clears and the sky blues and the birds and animals return, poking cautious noses out from the places where they’ve hidden themselves from our toxic society. We learned that we don’t have to live in gray cubicles to get our work done, and when families and employers work together, both parents can maintain careers. 

We best listen.

And we learned that no matter how many facts people are peppered with, and how much reason garnishes our arguments, many of our good neighbors will choose to ignore fact for fantasy, eschew truth for fable. There is no arguing this fact, no way to sweeten the stench of ignorance. And ignorance, when its fruit is allowed to ripen, bears death.

We best listen. 

We learned that we had to put “normal life” on hold. That all the important business meetings, all the Tinder dates, the weddings, the funerals, the career changes, the overseas vacations, the college classes—all of it had to stop, for a time. We learned that we are not the master of our ship of fate—we are not, indeed, the captain of our destiny.

We best listen.

We learned that our civilization is but a veneer; that our food security sits on the flimsy shoulders of other humans, fallible and fall-able; that our lifesaving medicines can be stopped in midstream by the whim of an annoyed postmaster. We learned that only the wealthy thrive during a pandemic; indeed, the poor are literally kicked to the curb. We learned that American society embraces “survival of the fittest” as the only one truth on which our nation is founded, and “In God We Trust” is just an ad campaign.

We best listen.

And lest you think this is simply a cynical diatribe, I encourage you to review the year. Look at the headlines. Read the accounts. (And no, I’m not talking about Fox, that right-wing propaganda machine. I’m talking about real news, founded on facts.) And when you’ve finished reading, remember. And vow never to forget. 

Because only remembering will bring change. And only change will make 2021 a better year.

Please. Listen.