The Long Goodbye – Cut Short – The March 11th Project – Continued

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UPDATE – May 29th.  (If you are a BHS High School Senior or a parent of a senior who would like to contribute to this blog, please email me at [email protected]

The Bedford Citizen asked the Bedford High School class of 2020 what they would have said if they had known March 11th was their last day at BHS.

A high school senior’s final semester is filled with big and small events:  Prom, Graduation. Fashion Shows, Spoons, Scavenger Hunts,  Parties, and more.  The senior spring semester is a celebration of  accomplishments, but it’s also, maybe even more importantly, a closing of a chapter.   The last semester really is just a long goodbye.

Due to the Coronavirus Pandemic, the BHS class of 2020 has been cheated of the fun and traditions that accompany this final semester.  On March 11 the high school “temporarily” closed.  As things continued to unfold, that temporary shutdown turned out to be for the rest of the year.

One senior mentioned that she was sad, not only about all the fun activities that were not happening in that final spring, but sad that she wouldn’t have a chance to say thanks and goodbye to so many people at BHS.

May 29th Post

By: Hannah O’Connor

What I do know is that even if I had known that March 11 was my final day of school, there still is no “right” or “perfect” way to say farewell. I know I would have taken the opportunity to say a final thank you to my teachers and express how much they mean to me, and how grateful I am for their belief in me and their ongoing mentorship.
It’s not lost on me that the ability to do this face to face — not through a screen or a pane of glass — has never been more valued nor missed by so many people.
I would have taken in the small details and idiosyncrasies of the day and the people around me: the joking; the smiling; the sarcasm and eye rolling; the distinct characteristics of certain people.
And I would have walked around BHS one last time, remembering, as I passed through different hallways and by different classrooms. And then I would have walked out those main lobby doors with a sense of bittersweetness, onto a new beginning.
Although I might not always feel this way, I know that any rituals I would have gone through on that unknown last day would have been luxuries, not necessities, to validate or solidify how far I’ve come.
This class has been robbed of that chance for closure, and nothing can give us back the days we thought we had until we officially left school — but nothing can take away from what we’ve had to overcome to get here, either. The challenge is reminding ourselves of that every day. It’s not fair, or right, or fun, but it is ours. This journey has been ours.
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