Serving Clovis, Portales and the Surrounding Communities
School administrators are regularly required to make those “damned if you do, damned if you don’t” decisions.
You know the kind I am talking about: Wondering if the buses will have time to run before the predicted snowstorm hits, or whether that freezing rain will make the highways too icy to be safe.
Decisions about public education during a global pandemic, though. Sheesh. They make calling a snow day look like a walk in the park.
And then comes graduation.
Celebrating a time-honored tradition during these must nontraditional times offers up a unique set of challenges.
Do you hold a ceremony now or wait until later?
What if you wait, and conditions don’t improve?
What if you stage a bare-bones event now and then restrictions are lifted sooner than expected?
What if you hold the ritual drive-in style and everyone stays in cars?
But if you do, how many cars may attend per family? Who gets to park in the front row?
The list is as long as the end of a semester being taught online.
While schools wrestle with the best and most responsible way to circle this track, several parents of the class of 2020 reminded me that this is not the first hurdle they’ve jumped with their offspring.
“You do realize, don’t you,” one of the mothers asked me, “that these are the 9/11 babies?”
I had not done the math. I had no idea.
These seniors of 2020 were all born shortly before and in the months immediately after the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, 2001.
The current cap-and-gowners are the same age as the war in Afghanistan and the Aviation and Transportation Security Act. (Yep, we’ve had TSA agents for their entire lives.)
So, this week, a tip of the virtual mortarboard to our school administrators. Even though you won’t get it, you’ve earned a lifetime pass on snow day calls.
But also, an extra-enthusiastic wave of the tassel to the class of 2020.
Whether you receive your diploma by email, in an online video ceremony, from the gloved hand of an administrator, or from a family member who has been in quarantine with you for a little too long, congratulations.
You were born with a war on terror and are graduating in a global pandemic.
Your gift is a planet ready to be changed.
You may feel like you’re damned if you do (just ask your principal) but we’re almost certainly damned if you don’t.
Betty Williamson wonders what this class might do for an encore. Reach her at: