Checking on the Covid Class of 2020

In 1995, I got my first job after college from a “help wanted” ad posted in a newspaper’s classified ads. (Remember those?) The headline on the ad said they were looking for an “aspiring journalist” to serve as assistant to the newspaper’s executive editor. At the time, I didn’t know if I was aspiring to be a journalist, but I was aspiring to pay rent and buy food. I was aspiring to put my newly earned English degree to good use.

So, I drove to an office building and dropped off my resume, which was printed on actual paper because no one knew what a PDF file was back then. About a week later, I got called in for an interview. A few days after that, I was sitting at the receptionist desk of the newsroom, answering phones, taking messages, fetching coffee, and typing up things like school lunch menus and wedding announcements. It was a perfect beginning because it put me in a room full of experienced writers who gave me opportunities to grow. This column wouldn’t exist without their help.

I’ve been thinking more about my first few wobbly steps as a college graduate because our oldest son is about to take his. Next month, he’ll graduate with two degrees — one in accounting and one in Classics (Greek and Latin literature and history).

We’re excited for a chance to celebrate this milestone because it’s the first real graduation ceremony Adam will ever have. He was part of the high school graduating class of 2020 – the Covid Class. He was one of the millions of teenagers across the country whose ceremonies were either canceled or downsized to something unrecognizable. Adam’s high school rented a drive-in movie theatre that spring, where each family sat inside parked cars and watched a slideshow of graduates’ photos on the outdoor screen. We were allowed to honk when our kid’s photo appeared for roughly two seconds. No diploma hand-off. No handshakes. No audience. No hugs. No friends. No community.

It wasn’t the first negative impact the high school Class of 2020 had to navigate. These were the kids born in the months surrounding September 11, 2001. They were infants when the country went to war. Seven years later, they were second graders when the recession of 2008 hit so hard that many of their parents lost jobs and sometimes homes. They were only third graders when smartphones and apps became widely used, and most of their parents started using social media to document family life when they were only fourth graders. They were sixth graders in 2012 when the horrific Sandy Hook school shootings happened, followed by a string of other shootings in the years since then. And they were in 10th grade when the highly addictive TikTok hit the scene.

Then, in their senior year of high school, just when they were in the home stretch toward graduation, COVID-19 hit. Six months later, many of them were forced to do their first semester of college from laptops in their bedrooms.

Thankfully, things are better now. Barring any big surprises, we’ll watch our boy turn his tassel and toss his cap after a real graduation ceremony in May. He’s already submitting job applications, albeit in completely different ways than I did 30 years ago. These days, “help wanted” ads have become online job listings, and artificial intelligence programs sift through the deluge of digital resumes.

But I hope there are still some real people in the working world who will help the Class of 2025 take these first few important steps. They’re entering a topsy-turvy economy and an absurd housing market, so it’s easy to understand why many of these graduates might not feel optimistic. They’ve already taken their share of hits, and now many of them feel like they’re being priced out of their own futures. 

I pray they’ll find older, wiser colleagues, managers, and mentors who will help them along their way, just as someone once helped us. Artificial intelligence will never be a good replacement for human connection, kindness, and the stubborn belief that these tough, resilient kids are going to make it out here in the real world.

Congratulations, graduates. I admire you already.

And for all those managers out there looking for the next generation of talent, if you need a fledgling accountant who can also read Latin, I might just know a guy.

Gwen Rockwood is a syndicated freelance columnist. Email her at gwenrockwood5@gmail.com. Her book is available on Amazon.