December 14th, 2019: I stood amongst a sea of caps marching into the purple and gold adorned gymnasium in pursuit of degrees that said we’d made it. I marched to my seat with confidence, 50 bobby pins securing the ridiculous cap to my head and silently reminding myself not to trip while in motion. We reached the rows and began to fill them. I took my place in the last seat of my row, lining the center aisle. “I’m almost done. I can’t wait to celebrate later!” I thought, as I looked out at the people around me. My deep reflection was soon interrupted by a classmate telling me to “scoot over” as he was seatless. Leave it to the college graduates to incorrectly fill in a simple row of seats. America’s future is in our hands, we’ve got this.
“Please rise and remove your caps for the National Anthem.”
Fear set in. Heat rushed to my cheeks and panic filled my every inch. My cap was all but glued to my head. My mind raced with a way to gracefully remove the 50 bobby pins in time, but it was too late. The music started; my cap was still on my head. I tried to find my family and make apologetic eye contact with them. I tried to make my eyes scream “I’m grateful for those who’ve served our country and hold respect for our nation, I just cannot physically remove my cap as a symbol of that at the moment.” I looked around, panicked and in awe of how many girls were able to remove their caps in time. Were their heads truly big enough to hold the cap up all on its own?
The Anthem ended. The heat in my cheeks subsided as we all took our seats. I was relieved and, admittedly, a fraction frightened as I sat and listened to professors I’d never heard of give words of praise and encouragement, and peers I’d never met relate their vastly different college experience to that of my own. On December 14th, 2019, I sat there grateful for my degree, not knowing if I would use it as intended and not knowing what I wanted to do as a career for the rest of my life. I had a cool job lined up. An “I didn’t think there was a job this perfect for me” job.
May 12th, 2020: I hung up the phone after waiting over 2 hours to speak with the unemployment office. I checked my email. An automated reply was waiting for me stating my application had been received. “Due to the high volume of resumes received we will only contact you should you be selected to move forward.” The job was posted only a couple of hours ago.
I’m a recent college graduate with no “real” work experience. As if it wasn’t difficult enough to break into the workforce post-college, Covid-19 has placed new graduates in line next to professionals with a lot more experience who suddenly need to find a new job after their’s vanished. They’re seasoned, they have experience. Recent graduates with little to no experience are a risk. When the economy is downturned, it’s not safe to take risks.
I remain hopeful and confident in my qualifications, but I do so with a “cautious optimism,” as my family and I have been referring to it. I send out my resumes and applications and say a silent hopeful prayer, and then I try not to think about it too much. In the meantime, I’m grateful for a stocked fridge and full bellies. My family is supportive and encouraging, and I’ve got a cute dog who keeps me busy and takes me for at least 2 walks a day. I’ve had time to be creative, and I’m letting that creativity build and guide. My mom said to me the other day: “In 5 years, you’re going to be so far from stuck and then today isn’t going to seem as bad as it feels right now.” She’s right. It’s hard to recognize that in the midst of it all.
As the “days in quarantine” number grows, I hope more and more that we won’t return to “normal” when this is all said and done. I hope that every day, I shift from seeing all of this as a setback, to seeing it as an opportunity. I hope the world starts that shift as well. With everything we’ve built crumbling around us, we can rebuild with stronger materials. We can re-design; we can build a longer table and larger roof. We can consider our place and effect on the world around us and work to preserve the beauty we see and the air we breath. We can shift our focus from the good of the individual to the good of the community.
December 14th, 2019: I didn’t know what I wanted to do. I had nothing figured out. I was excited, hopeful, frightened.
May 12th, 2020: I opened up my laptop and navigated to an old blog I’d started years ago but never used, returning to the things that excite me and fill me with life. When we do the things we’re passionate about, I’m confident that our communities and the world around us are changed. I still don’t have anything figured out, but I can pursue the things I’m passionate about and work towards a new normal while I’ve got the time.
Kelliemarie Mash 