2016 vs 2026
There is a trend going round on social media about 2016 vs. 2026--ie. what a decade can change. This seems largely to be about photos and selfies, but also maybe a little about the greater world of interests, relationships, political and social climates. The gaps between any other sequence of years seems much lest vast, less cavernous.
In 2016, I was just easing into my 40s and have to say, while it was a very busy and frenetic time, the world made sense in a way I am not sure it has since. I was still working at the library, of course, as I had been for the 16 years prior, but I also was not quite so overburdened due to rampant understaffing and less disillusioned with both pay and environment. I was still making use of the studio, and spending hours there before clocking in at work for those very long days I endured for more than a decade. I had yet to take on interlibrary loan duties, but we were gaining momentum on the A of R initiative, despite pitfalls and resentments and nonsense drama that that incurred. But also panel conversations and exhibits and workshops. Before the year was out, I would write the winning ACRL application, an endeavor I was laser focused on that December.
That year, my second book with Black Lawrence, SALVAGE, would be released. I went to NOLA for the first time in January and came back smitten. I had met J the previous summer, but since we both had pretty voracious schedules, we still felt like we were in the getting-to-know each other stage that would actually continue for the next couple years. Both of my parents were still among the living in 2016, with no clue or signs of the health problems that would plague my mother in 2017.
In the 10 years since, this may be the most obvious change with both of them gone. In that decade, I wrote and released many more books. Made much more art and published many chapbooks. I moved out of the studio, which I thought was a loss, but actually turned out to be a blessing when covid struck a few months later. A of R hosted exhibits on all sorts of fun topics, despite the drama, and I began writing and presenting professionally in libraries and at conferences. Nothing seemed to work to get a higher paycheck or b) a more accurate and encompassing job title, so I ultimately left in early 2022. Since, I've done all sorts of cool things I never imagined to make a living, like writing decor/DIY content and city guides. Horror movie news and humanities lessons. Despite saying I would probably never marry, J and I wed this past summer. I also said I would never get tattoos--I have almost a full sleeve today and an appointment to start on the other arm in February. Personally, there was perhaps not as much a shift from the previous decades, the span of 2006 to 2016, which had a lot of trial and error and finding my way through my thirties.
But the changes in my own life, whatever their nature, pale in comparison to the world changes. 10 years ago I spent the summer thinking there were real chances there would be a woman in the white house. And actually, I spent last summer thinking the same thing only to be wholly disappointed yet again. I should have learned. I should have knows. Because ultimately, perhaps the greatest change in me that no photo can capture isn't another decade and some extra years on me. Maybe its that many knowledge of what I thought people were like (generally calm, reasonable, and altruistic) is not really what they were like at all. Sure, those people exits, but it shouldn't be assumed--even in your own family or community.
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