March 6, 2021

A Not-So 20 Out of 20 Year

I think that the first time I heard the term Coronavirus was around December in 2019. I didn’t give much thought to it and even joked about whether or not it was going to be severe. I never anticipated that these jokes would turn into a reality; much less a literal nightmare.

For some time, the word “Coronavirus” was put in the back of my mind. That was, until March came around. Spring had begun and Easter was on its way. I was looking forward to the cheerful and bright holiday, especially Spring Break. One Friday, coincidentally it was the 13th, about a week before Spring Break would start, I was in my last class for the day, gym. Specifically for this day, we were told to not get changed and to perhaps take our gym clothes home for the weekend. My classmates and I waited in silence in the school’s North Gym as the minutes passed by. I didn’t think the awkwardness of the situation would be related to Covid-19, and I still didn’t think much of that term, because I remember how nervous and excited I felt knowing that I was going to have an upcoming water polo game after school. Little did I know, the opportunity of playing the water polo game would be taken away that same day due to the now fear-inducing word, Covid-19. Indeed, in the previous days, I recall watching the news in the mornings before heading to the bus stop to go to school. I recall that the atmosphere of the news people was low-spirited, and concerned, like they knew some information that would reveal despair. These news people provided new information on a specific type of Coronavirus: the positivity rate, the cases, and death toll. Every day, I recognized the difference in the records of people who died. As I noticed the gradual increase in cases, positivity rates, and deaths, the daily information on Covid-19 created somewhat of a Snowball effect. With more talk of the virus, it eventually dawned on me the true danger behind this silent, and deadly, enemy. New sentences formed in my mind subconsciously: “How many today?” “When will it end?” “Who would defeat this deadly, invisible entity.” If the words during this time would be put into a word search, you would find and highlight the following words: quarantine, masks, 6 feet, hand-sanitizer, zoom, distance, and Coronavirus. My classmates and I did not know that, during those final five minutes of our gym class, it would be the last time we would hear the PA speakers turn on, and the last time we would be at school till the end of the year. As our principal spoke on the PA, the message echoed in the gym and into my head. It was clear as day that Coronavirus was forcing itself into our lives, striking us down through its attacks. Stopping at no cost to get its way. Since then, I never got to play water polo again. Many of my upperclassmen friends never got the chance to dance at Prom. They never got the chance to participate in a grand graduation ceremony, like many had dreamed for. To us younger high school students, the idea of having E-Learning just seemed like an added version of Spring Break. For this reason, every younger student in our school, including myself, felt a little more optimistic about the situation, especially since we expected to be back in less than 3 weeks. Having school at home, allowed us to wake up later than usual, and have less stress about getting ready. Although I was saddened that I could no longer play in the season with my teammates for water polo, the added time to my schedule was definitely relieving. There was more time to think. More time to take in what has happened around us. More time to breathe. More time to take care of myself and my home. It was unusually more quiet at home as well, despite me being there with my sister all of those days. Cases surged and it felt like everyone had lost their minds. Stores found that their shelves were empty of food. Job unemployment increased at a dramatic rate. My dad, who is a truck driver, experienced an irregular schedule because of Covid-19, that changed by day and night. Some weeks he had too much work, while in other weeks he had too little. My mom, a nurse in Rush Hospital in downtown, was most affected by the virus; and very much still is. She would come home with fear in her eyes, after having seen tens of patients dying from the virus, holding a device in their hands as their loved ones watched from home in sadness to witness their death. I prayed to god everyday that my mom would never catch the virus. So many people were experiencing loss in their lives, and I was thankful that at least my own family did not have to deal with unemployment, and lack of food, like many Americans unfortunately had.

Today, 9 months later we still haven't found a cure. Another wave has hit. It's even harder than the one before. More people are dying, their loved ones in aching pain, while others are losing their jobs and income. We are staying confined through technology, distancing 6-feet from each other, making sure the misfortune of the virus doesn’t find us. We stay away from our grandparents, however unwilling we are, to keep a safe family. This tortuous journey with many obstacles is what we call 2020. This year is one for the history books, and I’m afraid it will take a long time to include this year into them. 2020 was supposed to stand for 100%. 20 out of 20. It was supposed to mean that everything was going to be better than just great. In just months, our lives are worse than before, forever impacting us and the future of humankind.

Hello! My name is Anna Karbowniczek and I am a Sophomore at Amos Alonzo Stagg High School. I enjoy writing about my life experiences and also enjoy speaking on topics that others can relate to. One of my biggest life accomplishments has been being able to swim with my teammates at Sectionals this year for the Stagg Varsity Swim Team! In addition to writing, I try my best to get involved in other ways, such as volunteering for the homeless and being active in clubs at my school! I hope that my writing gives others a chance to feel connected and safe.