It is not surprising that two dictionaries chose as their word of the year, "pandemic." Until this year, the word belonged to post-apocalyptic stories and to epidemiologists who seemed to have over active imaginations. Not far into 2020, we wished more epidemiologists and government planners had taken this word seriously. We were not prepared.
Another dictionary chose "Covid." This word was invented last spring and has been on our lips ever since. This fall, it has nudged its way into many of my sermons and columns as I pondered how to live well in the context of this disease.
"Lockdown," another's choice, is a word that I hope I will never use again after the end of January. It has twice become part of our everyday life.
I appreciate the choice of the Oxford dictionary not to choose a word of the year. Their team declared that the year was too complex for one word. "Unmute, super-spreader, remote work, PPE" were just some of the other words that came into common usage.
The Oxford team pointed out that while some countries used "lockdown" to describe the action needed to "flatten the curve," others used "shelter in place," "movement control order," "circuit breaker," or "enhanced community quarantine." Reminding us of diversity is worthwhile.
More important, this group pointed out that several other issues shaped this year. "Brexit" was on the minds of people in the U.K. "BLM" pushed hard for a rethink of social structures and attitudes across North America. The team also included "anthropause" to describe the decrease in human activity.
I did not see a dictionary that mentioned the word that has fascinated me, "pivot." I acknowledge the importance of the rest, but stories where people "pivoted" spoke to me of resilience and creativity.
The first time I really thought about it was a Quirks and Quarks piece on a couple of scientists who were supposed to spend the summer in the artic. They were stuck in Toronto. After a walk where they noticed several discarded masks, they set out to map, by place and over time, PPE litter. They "pivoted" their research to something within reach. (Two valuable contributions they offered were how much waste our response to the pandemic produced, and the fact that information on safe disposal of PPE was not part of the order to wear it.)
People talked about businesses pivoting. I heard about a company that, when there was a shortage of PPE, completely retooled to make masks, gowns, and face shields.
Some businesses simplified. Some adjusted, creating curbside options. Some turned at right angles or farther to survive in this new situation.
However, I remember a conversation where someone said, "I don't see that business pivoting." This judgment suggested that this company was inflexible. Maybe so, but I am aware that not everyone had the resources to pivot. I hope we do not judge the businesses that are forced to close.
In my work, it felt like shifting. I moved from in person services to a form of online service that felt sustainable for me. Phone calls have always been part of the way I do pastoral care. I added walks in the park to that repertoire. Those were lovely.
The only time I pivoted was the Monday when the second lockdown was announced. I had seen it coming, so I was somewhat prepared, but for December 27th, I had a service planned with multiple readers of scripts from a book. (And my scanner was grumpily not functioning.) For two days, I scrambled to find five readers and get them the readings, to change the order of service to make sense as a zoom service, to make sure musicians were comfortable with the new structure. I was exhausted by Tuesday evening when the plan was in place.
I "pivoted" once for one small service, though it was an important one as it was my last before retirement. I can guess how much energy a pivot in life would take. I respect those who kept reinventing their work. I feel for those who did not have the resources to turn their work 180o. I ache for those simply laid off.
This year presented us with new challenges and highlighted some long-standing ones. Whether we pivot, shift, or adjust, I hope we will carry some of our learnings into a new future.
Cathy Hird lives on the traditional territory of the Saugeen Ojibway
