From the NAWM
The last year has been, formost of us, the strangest of our lifetimes, and it still isn’t over. It has left little room for joy or hopefulness and has caused many to feel melancholic. It has been hard to plan, and many other aspects of life have been materially affected.
Unable to travel with peace of mind, we have stopped seeing the world as full of possibilities. We refrain from or have significantly curtailed seeing grandparents and parents, siblings or young nieces and nephews, who in the course of a year had grown so much. Now they are only viewed through ubiquitous Zoom sessions. Zooming so much has created its own associated psychological malady.
Longing to get lost in an artist’s great expression, our options are limited to Netflix or other streaming services. Professional sports have tried to keep some semblance of regularity in our lives—assuming you derive enjoyment from sports in the first place.
Many of us who prefer to enjoy our common humanity through touch with an abundance of hugs and kisses found the greatest expression of our love like playing a game of Russian roulette.
Interactions with each other in ways big and small that used to be commonplace became hard for many, leading to questions about the quantity and quality of joy in life. Suicide rates have increased since the pandemic began. More than 500,000 (and counting) have died from COVID-19. Sadness certainly abounds.
It’s “the paradox of our time in history,” as the comedian George Carlin once described it, where “we have taller buildings but shorter tempers, wider freeways but narrower viewpoints... spend more, but have less... buy more, but enjoy less... have bigger houses, but smaller families; more conveniences, but less time... have more degrees, but less sense; more knowledge, but less judgment; more experts, [and still] more problems; more medicine, but less wellness.”
Fortunately, I haven’t felt the fullness of the burdens many others have experienced. Don’t get me wrong, I miss these things noted above and more. I mourn for the lives lost to this pandemic. Joy may have been harder to come by during this trying time, but it hasn’t been absent. In some ways, it has intensified existing relationships. It has made the yearning for what has been lost that much greater, but imbued a greater sense of appreciation for what one has. For some of us, our faith has held us strong and been an exemplar of how to look at life, even in these tough times.
Sometimes it is easy to forget most of us are still in good health with a stable roof over our heads, food in our refrigerators, and a job to call our own. We still have people who love us. We have brains with the ability to draw joy from documentaries or books that allow our minds to go places where we physically cannot. We can still exercise with great passion, for good or for ill, the political and economic discourse that drives our communities.
Despite the ubiquity of countless Zoom or Whatsapp or FaceTime sessions, I have found myself in even more conversations with Wabash brothers whom the frenetic pace of life and career had too often truncated.
As I said in my address to the Freshman Class at this year’s Ringing-In Ceremony: “Remember that your fellow classmates [are] some of your greatest and most frequent teachers—in the classroom and in life. They are your best friends, the guys you asked to be the best man at your wedding and the godfather of your children. The men whose tips on your resume helped you get that longed-for, but difficult to attain job. The men who have seen you through life’s highs and lows. Men whom you’ve shared tears and the heartiest of laughs.”
When was the last time you reached out to these “teachers?” While Wabash is full of great, even storied faculty who deserve celebration, many of the best educators you ever had at Wabash shared your dorm room, lived in your fraternity, played as teammates on the athletic field. Some kept you great company on road trips. Let us find solace in remembering these times and these educators.
Marc Nichols ’92
President, National Association of Wabash Men
marc.nichols@saabusa.com