My biggest lesson in 2020.

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This year is rapidly coming to a close. It seemed as if March and April lasted several years each, but the rest has felt like it moved more quickly than ever, and here we are facing down the end of the year, looking to ring out the old and ring in the new. I was tidying up my blog over the past few weeks and reflecting on some of the posts I wrote earlier this year in the 10 lessons I learned in the past decade series. Of course this was before any of us realized what this year would bring.

I did a fair amount of writing this year, but it has been quite some time since I have written about any lessons, and so I thought I would close it out with what I consider to be the biggest lesson I learned this year.

Sometimes things suck.

I know… I know! this doesn’t sound like any of my usual lessons. In fact, I told this to a “social-media-friend” on a call the other day, and she seemed genuinely surprise to hear me say the word “suck”. Because I am a sunny positive person! Because I have entire blog series dedicated to life lessons.

People often think that because I write life lessons, that I am a silver lining kind of girl. That no matter what happens in life, I look for the blessing; the lesson. That I am the sort that finds the good in everything.

Well, I’m not.

Sorry if that disappoints you. I am not because - sometimes things suck. And while I make the effort to find the joys in life, I’m not the one who is going to tell you - look on the bright side all the time (unless of course that’s what you want!) Sometimes things suck. And this year in 2020, I’ll happily get that written across the sky. There has been so much loss this year, for me, for some of those close to me, for all of us. Loss of life, loss of love, loss of work and livelihood. Loss of our safe spaces.

Does that mean that nothing good happened even in the midst of so much loss? No it doesn’t.

It never means that.

But sometimes, things suck.

Outside of 2020, things can suck in life too. I have met several people who have had sucky experiences. Who have had traumatic experiences. I have close friends who have lost their spouse, who have been assaulted, injured and had other traumatic losses. Many of them have also gone on to have joy in their lives. They have remarried, found careers they loved, and causes that they champion through those injuries, assaults and losses.

 Let’s face it, in life, bad things happen.

My “social-media-friend” had a different spin on this. She believes that nothing is good or bad, but it is just the meaning you give it. I know quite a few people who have this as one of their core beliefs. I know someone whose entire business and way of working has this at it’s heart. And, I happen to disagree with it. Some things are bad. From what happens to individuals, to oppression and grave systemic injustices. These things are bad, as far as I am concerned. 

 And while something positive may happen as a result of the bad thing, something that could not have happened without the bad thing, that doesn’t make the thing good. 

Sorrow and gratitude.

I was reminded of this on a large scale a few weeks ago when I went on the Barbados Museum and Historical society “Duppy Tour”. We visited 4 burial sites and heard some of the tales that the dead continue to tell the living. To those of you who live (or have lived) here in Barbados, you may be familiar with the folk tune “Millie gone to Brazil”  - a song about a young woman who lost her life to violence. (I know a lot of people say domestic violence, as if adding the domestic somehow makes it different. As if murdering someone who loves and trusts you, and who may be dependent on you is somehow better than if it was a stranger. I know that sometimes the justice system seems to think it is different, but violence is violence. However, I digress). We visited the site where her body was found (not in a well apparently, but in a milk container) and heard her story.

 We visited the St Michael’s Cathedral, a church I have attended on a few occasions for celebrations of my secondary school. We also visited the Chase Vault at Christ Church parish church, and learned that sometimes even in death, we can’t get along with one another.

And lastly, we visited the (to my knowledge) sole identified burial ground of the enslaved in Barbados at Newton, and performed a libation ceremony to our ancestors – the 570 souls that were laid to rest in that area. I left that ceremony feeling angry and bitter and also sad and grateful. Angry and bitter about the enslavement, about the genocide that took place on the small island that I call home. Sad about the history. And grateful that there are those who came before me who fought so that I can live the free life I have today. My friend I went with reminded me that - people - our people - who were sold as chattel, whose life held little to no meaning to those who perpetuated this trade, most of whom had a life expectancy of 29 years old – who were beaten, tortured, raped, bred like animals, whose work built the wealth of their captors (many of whose descendants are still wealthy today because of it) – are our forerunners. Their line lives on in us and we are strong.

She is right.

Speaking to her reminded me that without the enslavement of my ancestors, I would not be here – in this country, in this place, living this life – which is pretty great in comparison to many others. It reminded me that I still feel that it was an absolute privilege to grow up in the Caribbean, and that I still believe it is the best place to have grown up as a Black woman. It reminded me of all of those who sacrificed so that I could live this life of privilege.

It was a lot to hold both of those things.

I am grateful to be here. But - celebrating the end of something that never should have begun in the first place? Not my strong suit.

Everything is not neutral. That is not what I believe.

Instead, I believe that sometimes, things suck. Like an entire system built on the cruel enslavement of generations of people. Like the systemic injustices that still happen today. Like 2020. As far as I am concerned, my acceptance of this doesn’t make me a negative person. There are those who believe that we must release how we feel about the bad things, and focus on the positive, and positive energy and such. I have a different opinion, and this is the lesson I have learned from this year.

This year has taught me that my real strength is in being able to hold both of those things.

The good and the bad.

We can forgive without forgetting. We can grieve for someone we lost and find love and joy again. I don’t believe that we need to release everything negative and embrace positivity because I don’t think that life works that way. There will be things in life that we consider bad. That disappoint us and frustrate us. That make us angry.

I think about many of the things that make me angry, and it is that anger that fuels my fight against injustice, combined with a hope for a better world. It is that anger that shows me what I care about, what is important to me, where I want to put my effort. I don’t believe that I have to positive-think in order to move forward, or to make better. Things can suck AND I can move forward in life. Things can suck AND life can be good afterwards.

This has been my biggest lesson this year.

I can hold both things.

The pain and the pleasure.

The anger and the happiness.

The grief and the joy.

The loss and the love.

I can remember that while this year sucked, there was joy. My sister got married, and I have a new brother-in-law. I wrote a new novel. I met some amazing people in social media land. My nephew played April fools jokes in November. My friendships grew closer. I was a guest on some amazing podcasts. I read some incredible books. I was able to support a number of writers, and entrepreneurs. I taught classes on zoom. And even on the worst of days, I survived.

I can hold both things.

It isn’t always easy, and when it becomes difficult to hold both of those things, that is when I need my supportive community to help me carry them. My friends and my family. Somedays, they will help me carry those things. Somedays I will help them.

This is my lesson for 2020. What was yours?

I would love to hear about it in the comments! And I send you big love from a small island.

Ps - I took this photo earlier this month of the crown of thorns plant. I love how it speaks to how beauty and danger can coexist.