January brought ski trips to the mountain and good times with friends. I started job-searching as I was struggling with finding happiness in my work and connecting with my own identity, which seemed to be lost somewhere as I tried to figure out how to work as a general contractor and still feel like an artist
February saw more snow, job applications and interviews, and some news about a strange virus that originated in China and seemed to be spreading across much of Asia at an alarming rate
In March, I made it to a third interview at a wetland restoration design company, only to be turned down on March 16th as the United States economy stalled and businesses were ordered to shut down, people directed to work from home on account of COVID-19, which had reached across the world. In a lot of ways, it felt like a great spinning wheel coming to a screeching halt. I turned 25 days later; my co-workers wished me a happy birthday over Zoom, and sang me Fleetwood Mac’s “Landslide” on guitar
April was a month of adjusting to “working from home” and preparing to move from my Oakland apartment to a house further east near Berkeley. I spent a lot of time reflecting on the world’s response to COVID-19 and what sheltering in place meant. What more could I see now that things had slowed down? What connections did I miss the most? What can each of us find and reveal about ourselves in the solitude?
In May I started living with three other women, two of my former housemates from the previous place and one a mutual friend. The living arrangement has been a 4 bedroom, 3-1/2 bathroom, 2-story house, with our landlord living in the in-law unit out back. I could write a book on the changing dynamics of this house and what I’ve learned living with these women in the last 7 months. I have learned the most about the importance of communication in any friendship or relationship than I ever have before. I’ve also been incredibly thankful to have these ladies as a support system in what has been one of the most challenging years of my life so far. Around this time, I returned to working from the jobsite partially during the week, and gained at least partial relief in seeing other folks outside my immediate home.
May was also the month that George Floyd lost his life to a police officer that would not take his knee of the man’s neck. Following George’s death, the Black Lives Matter movement experienced a level of traction never before seen. Protests and demonstrations were ongoing throughout the whole summer in Oakland, San Francisco, and elsewhere over the country. The Black Lives Matter movement gained global recognition at this point and at least for a while, it seemed that the majority of individuals and organizations were beginning to acknowledge the continued structural racism and racial prejudices that Black People in the United States continue to face to this day. The idea of defunding the police gained traction politically and suggested that funds allocated to policing, which has proven to systematically keep Black People behind bars through racism and prejudice, ought to be redirected to other areas like education, affordable housing, and healthcare.
Some of George’s final words were “I can’t breathe”, further emphasizing the criticality of air and breath in a year marked by reminders to “mask up” and socially distance.
June and July saw a spike in COVID cases as people everywhere flocked outdoors, becoming restless and looking for any outlet to escape the banality of day after day spent trying to pass the time with board games, puzzles, sourdough starters, online retail therapy, and ultimately staring at screens
August and September brought some of the most horrific wildfires to the western United States in recent history. The morning the sky was orange will be burned into my memory forever. California, Oregon, and parts of Washington, Arizona, and Utah were ablaze. Again I find myself thinking about the significance of air and breath
Smoke continued in October, followed by rising political unrest as the presidential election neared.
November included some of the longest days we could have imagined. Following election day, nearly a week passed before Joe Biden was declared the president-elect. While this was the happiest day of the year for many of us, it also resulted in disbelief, denial, and uproar from Trump supporters and some conservatives that continued into 2021. I struggled with how to communicate with members of my family who supported Trump, and to this day continue learning to navigate conversations with them regarding issues of the environment, race and social justice, and beyond. I try to balance my experience and what I know to be truth while still maintaining an open mind to have a constructive conversation with family members, and communicate my beliefs in a way that is clear, concise, calm, and without attacking or making assumptions or suggestions about what it is they believe. We can’t expect to get anything done or to feel any closer to one another when we continue to be open to polarization and “other-ing” people with varying political views. I want to find a way forward that is rooted in active listening and sharing, not blaming and name-calling. We all as Americans and human beings are just trying to find ways to live happy lives, and we have all had different learned experience and privileges that we are only beginning to see manifest the lens through which we see the world, and differ from the lenses of those “others” around us.
I feel very fortunate and thankful to have been able to keep my job and an income and steady health in this insane year. It was a year of loss for so many and I am lucky to have been in a position that allowed me to get out of 2020 relatively unscathed.
hannah hansen 