Kids and the elderly have many things in common.

One is that we often hear about them, but we rarely hear from them in their own voices. One goal of my Mansion and refugee work is to give voiceless people voice.

I’m working with the Bishop Maginn Writing Workshop (I’m teaching it) to publish a book in the summer about their interrupted lives. In fact, the book is called “Interrupted Lives: Report From Bishop Maginn High School.”

I want them to talk about the loss of so much of their senior year, but in their own words. So I’m reprinting some of their writing here so you can see what we are doing.

This chapter is from Gabe Silverstein, a senior and future scientist, the best schools in the country have been chasing after him all semester. As of now, it looks like he’s going to go to the Albany College Of Pharmacy.

Do not be surprised if he comes up with a coronavirus vaccine, he’s incredibly smart. He is also Sue Silverstein’s son and a very fine writer. I edit the pieces and we go back and forth. This is the final draft.

Loss And Resentment, by Gabe Silverstein, Bishop Maginn High School Class of 2020:

“Loss and resentment. A fitting description for some of what I’ve felt on many days throughout this pandemic. My class has lost much because of this virus. Much of our vision for what our last year of high school was supposed to be was wiped away by the pandemic. 

I remember how excited I was to be a senior last summer. I imagined myself spending time with my friends as the year came to a close. I imagined going to my senior prom, and how much I would enjoy it. I saw myself giving a valedictory address at graduation, receiving a diploma, going to graduation parties, and just having the general experience of high school. 

But now, of course, all of that will no longer happen.

It’s confirmed now that we won’t be returning to school, the possibility of a rescheduled prom is doubtful at best, and if we have a graduation, it will be a much different format than we all expected at the beginning of the year. To be quite honest, we’ve lost almost everything that would’ve made our senior year of high school special.

I’ve lost more than just a senior year, though. I lost a chance to really say goodbye to everything. From friends to teachers, to high school in general. Being able to say goodbye would’ve made leaving much easier.

It’s almost as if high school was one long plane flight, but at the very end, just when the landing gear was supposed to be deployed to make landing easier, the wheels were torn off far too soon, causing the entire plane to come crashing down.  

This will definitely change the way I remember high school. The images in my mind of fond times could end up being overshadowed by feelings of loss for what could’ve been, how it should’ve ended. 

With these feelings of loss also come ones of great resentment.

At the core of my resentment, of course, would be the virus itself, but it tends to be difficult to resent something I can’t even see. Therefore, my resentment and likely the resentment of others expresses itself in different ways.

More than anything, I resent certain government officials’ public ignorance of the seriousness of this virus.

All too often in February and even into March, we heard about how the virus was going to magically disappear. We heard about how the administration was doing such an “amazing” job in limiting the spread of the pandemic and how it would barely even affect us. 

All the while, there were numerous briefings made to such officials emphasizing the exact opposite. Still, they maintained a carefree attitude regarding what was about to happen. I can only imagine how many more lives could have been saved had we acted quicker, as several other countries did.

I can only imagine how much loss could have been avoided for everyone; how many more people could’ve kept their jobs to put food on the table, or how much more prepared the medical infrastructure of this country would have been had the leaders of this country just acted as they should have. 

Nevertheless, no matter what loss I or my class experience from losing out on our senior year, I  still consider myself lucky. My mother and my stepfather both still have jobs, we still have food on the table, and, as of yet, none of us have contracted the virus. Despite this, it still pains me to know that, had we acted differently as a country, some of what we’re experiencing now could’ve been either avoided or, at the very least, made much more bearable.”

-Gabe Silverstein, May 2020

My final notes after editing: Gabe, this is first-rate, clear, forceful, honest,  without being over the top. I like your descriptions of loss, they are very real and very strong. Good. I think it is so important to hear from students in their own voices.