The Class of 2020, One Year Later
“I zero percent feel like an adult.”
In March 2020, graduating classes of 2020 around the world thought (and hoped) that we would be the only graduating class to experience a COVID year. Now, one year on, the class of 2020 is experiencing their second coming of age, while the pandemic is ongoing. What does life look like for the world’s newest adults, and do they even consider themselves to be adults yet?
My name is Donavan Williams, I am 24 years old.
My name is Alexa Wade, I am 24.
My name is Katie Dickens, I’m 22 years old.
My name is Trish Rooney, I'm 23.
Where they are:
“Toronto, Ontario”
— Donavan
“Los Angeles”
— Katie
“New York City”
— Trish
“Hinton, Alberta”
— Alexa
One year on, some of the class of 2020 have entered the work force.
Alexa works in Hinton, AB, as a Communications Assistant for the town. Here, she’s completing pension paperwork. “Yes, I feel like an adult, for the reasons like bills, getting insurance, working, buying a car, cleaning my sheets once a week.” she explains, “But also no for the reason on I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing half the time.”
What Would They Have Wanted To Hear Last Year?
“You’re going to be fine. Your first year in NYC is a fever dream, but the best kind.”
— Trish
“It’s hard, it gets real hard, but you’ve made it out the other side from worse”
— Alexa
Others have stayed in school. Katie is in her second and final year of her Master’s in Writing for Screen and TV at USC in LA, after completing the first year of her degree from home in Bournemouth in the UK. “In August 2021 I was able to move to LA. My days here are spent writing feature and sit-com scripts, my evenings spent reading while I watch films I’ve seen a million times and my weekends are spent relaxing with video games and making up for the lost year of knowing my course mates.”
Pictured, the balcony that Katie usually works on, at one of the Cinematic Arts buildings at USC.
Definitions of “Home” have changed.
Some moved one town over, other across the globe. Keeping in touch with loved ones during the pandemic while still experiencing the beginnings of adulthood have become a top priority. “My grandmother was diagnosed with cancer this year, and being far from her has put in perspective what an invaluable part of my life she is.” Trish says, “And to make time for talking to my family, with how busy my life in New York is now, is hard, and not something I’m good at even though I want to be.”
A reminder on Trish’s bedside table with a photo of her mom.
A screengrab of Katie’s conversations with her brother in the UK.
On the Go
Katie waits for the bus after class in LA.
Donavan walks to work in Toronto.
What does “Adulthood” even mean?
With the world still upside down, independence and adulthood feel like two different things. “The last year was me, a grown adult, living with her parents not being able to leave the house because of lockdown and COVID.” Alexa says, “I love my parents, but that definitely was the kick in the butt after graduation to move out with my boyfriend of 2 years, across the country.”
“I zero percent feel like an adult.” Donavan explains, “Honestly part of me almost rejects the idea of being an "adult". I've always been wildly independent and have not had support from my parents since I graduated high school. In that sense, I feel mature. That being said though, no part of me feels stable or confident enough in who I am and what I'm doing to maybe ever consider myself an adult.”
“I think I'll consider myself an adult once I am past the point of contemplating quitting my jobs each and every time it prevents me from hanging out with friends.”
- Donavan. Pictured is his work name tag, with a note from his favourite co-worker.
What do they want to hear a year from now?
“The pain and the suffering stop and you can have your life back; there is finally a cure.”
— Alexa
“That I’m on the right path and that I will continue to become more comfortable in a new country and with my new people. I hope that future me thinks current me is doing great.”
— Katie
“That I am still finding ways to stay creative, and that I am still enjoying it.”
— Donavan
The nightly view from Alexa’s home in Alberta.