Last Wednesday, I said goodbye to many people for probably the last time. The realisation that after our matric breakfast, I would never again see some of the faces whose presence had become as familiar as the cobblestone pathways leading to my classes, affected me more than I had anticipated.
Within our hall stood those who had become my closest friends and those I had never exchanged more than a few words with, yet we all shared an indelible bond.
The matric class of 2020 experienced its final year of school online, the class of 2021 went back to school wearing masks and socialising in small groups, but, in 2022, COVID-19 restrictions were eased, and it felt as though our matric experience could be somewhat “normal”.
However, the implications of the global health crisis weren’t so easily erased. Loss was all around us during the pandemic, but eventually the world had to continue moving. Schools went back in full force, social gatherings resumed, and those of us who were grieving all that was lost had to continue like nothing had happened.
In 2021, after spending the first year and a half of the pandemic in complete isolation in order to protect my family, I (along with my parents and my brother) contracted the Delta variant of COVID-19. The only consolation at this point was that we had avoided spreading the virus to my grandparents.
However, a few weeks later, my grandfather was diagnosed with cancer, and was admitted to hospital where he contracted COVID-19. In a matter of weeks, my worst nightmare had come true. My grandfather died alone in a hospital bed and my family unit would never be the same. Just two weeks later, I was back at school, filling my hours with school work instead of dealing with the loss and debilitating long-COVID-19 symptoms. This pattern only became worse as I entered matric.
I, like many others, tried to compartmentalise and push away the suffering of the past two years in order to try and erase the trauma that we had endured. Moreover, our grade had just regained the opportunity to participate in regular school activities and, in just a year, it would all be over.
In late 2021, I was elected house captain, was to direct and act in a school play in the new year, and had signed up for other extra-curricular activities. And so, in addition to the academic pressure of the second year of the IB (International Baccalaureate) Diploma Programme, I set myself up for a very busy year.
There’s so much pressure to begin one’s matric year on the right foot. Unfortunately for me, my right foot happened to be in a full cast after breaking my ankle just a couple of weeks prior. I hobbled through the gates on my “last-first day” of school with such high expectations, I started crying as soon as I entered the grounds.
Nonetheless, I was determined to experience all the activities that I had set out to do, and it came to a point where I was often at school from 07:30 in the morning until 19:30 in the evening. I would find ways to fit any interhouse practices into my breaks, then attend public speaking practice immediately after school, and then it was straight into play rehearsal for two to three hours.
A few months into the year, however, I found myself struggling to balance it all with academics. I was completely burnt out, and managed to catch COVID-19 for the second time. Looking back, my last few months of school were very isolated. The very experiences I had so eagerly looked forward to, such as our matric “silly season” and other end-of-year events, flew past as I sat in the library through breaks and free periods trying to perfect final drafts of assignments that I had worked on for months, and trying to leave enough time to study for prelims.
It was also at this time that we were nearing about 12 hours a day without electricity. Though there’s something quite charming about studying by the light of a single lamp, the inability to work online or access power for one’s laptop became a significant burden for students around the country.
I was privileged to attend a school that had generators powering just about everything, but it’s hard to imagine how many matric students in our country were affected by some of the worst load shedding we have ever experienced.
Our matric year may not have felt like those we had seen in movies, but it was definitely one for the books (even if those books felt vaguely absurdist and dystopic at times). This past week might have revolved around marks and distinctions for many, but they are a fraction of what the class of 2022 has to show for this past year. We made it, we’re here to tell the tale, and we’re ready to start the next chapter of our lives.
- Hanna Resnick matriculated at Redhill High School in 2022 and is now interning at the SA Jewish Report.
