Dear JBS students and community


Hallie Williams, Executive Editor-in-Chief

Dear JBS students and community, 

Seeing the official MSHAA press release about the cancellation of spring sports last week made everything real. 

It’s not that it wasn’t real before, but just like other members of my class and spring athletes, as well as spring actors, college students, our parents, and really anyone else who had the privilege to be, I was hopeful and I was in denial.

Everyone has their own shock to reality: cancellation of lacrosse was mine. And the waterworks followed.

I am sad. I am angry. I am a senior. I am a lacrosse player. I am trying to be a good friend and daughter. A good person. But I am also selfish. I want prom, I want my April weekends back. I want the car rides with friends, the late night dancing, the hard conditioning at practice, and of course I want graduation. We all do. And it’s getting harder and harder, at least for me to see how not having these things, is doing anything. The hardest thing for me through this all is that we are going through a crisis but cannot see it unfold. The spread of the virus is invisible and there’s no sudden impact or one incident. It is unfolding as we speak and impacting people through touching smooth surfaces and human interaction. And there is no end date. 

Unpredictable, untameable, undateable. 

I’m not here to tell you it’s going to be okay. It’s not. We are missing time and activities we can’t get back. 

I’m hoping that everything will get better soon (in whatever terms better and soon may be). I’m hoping the result of this will lead to new activities, traditions, and unity. I’m hoping. I don’t know. I think hoping for new creative things is important. 

Talking to friends, I’ve heard many are dreaming more vividly, more often, and remembering them more than normal. Maybe if this is true, or if there is just an ounce of truth to it, then maybe it means creativity is sparking and that the celebration(s) for the end of this are being dreamt of. And my hopes will come true. 

My hopefulness could lead to just more disappointment, but it is also helping me be okay with missing these things I will not get back. 

There is no call to action or uplifting part of this letter. I just wanted to write and I hope people might read. And hope that maybe they agree with one part of this or just decided this was not seemingly a waste of time. I hope it wasn’t cheesy or silverlined. I hope it was just an average expression of many feelings and thoughts that potentially were helpful. 

I don’t know. We don’t know. I’ve found myself saying those two things a lot lately. It seems like a fitting way to end.