Dear 2017,

We’re really banking on you. This year has been a serious disaster. The most recent nail in the coffin for me is the passing of choral legend, Weston Noble. Mr. Noble served a 57 year tenure as the Nordic Choir director here at Luther. Not only did he impact the lives of three generations of my family, but his passion and heart left a mark on the choral world greater than almost anyone else ever could. My mother, as well as her father and three siblings, sang under him for 75% of her college career. When we heard of his passing, one of the first things she told me was that Weston was likely the second most important man in my grandfather’s life. As you can likely imagine, thousands of tears flowed around the globe Wednesday night.

2016 has taken far too many “legends”. I am over it. The music world was especially dealt the hardest blow, with the likes of Prince and David Bowie also leaving us for something *hopefully* better. Maybe the world recognized their pureness and majesty as too worthy; society’s falling apart in many corners of the world, and so “It” chose to protect them from experiencing any more of it. That’s probably baloney. But at least it’s a semi-nice thought in an ocean of negativity.

If this year has done anything for me, it’s reminded me that when the world goes low, all there is left to do is go high. We have no choice. But getting through the next few generations may as well seem like climbing Everest with asthma and poor clothing choices right now. I doubt most of us are as ready for all of our upcoming battles as we may think we are. No matter your political, religious, or class affiliation, I sense more struggle in the coming years than we would ever feel capable of dealing with. So I’m writing to you to ask for some help; throw us a bone, every once in a while. Give us a break. I know that progress is only attainable through passionate work and dedicated (often difficult) discourse, but I am begging you. Help us find more light than dark this year. Even as we continue to mourn, maybe you could showcase some new, bright lives? Perhaps amplify the voices of youthful reason and compassion that have been so desperately trying to cut through the white noise? We are tired and worn. I would be awestruck to meet someone who said this year was their best.

I made some tremendous strides this year in my personal goals and life; for that I am proud and joyful. But if asked how the year was overall, I know that my answer would be based off of my communities’ struggles. As a country, this year was hard. As a world, this year was hard. Perhaps if we knew how to extend our understandings of what a “good year” constitutes to the greater world around us, we’d feel even more driven to do good for everyone. I won’t have a “great” year until few-to-no communities feel targeted for their existence or fear their lives because of legislation, climate change, or outright hatred.

2017, I don’t expect you to be perfect. Hell, decent would be enough. Anything better than this past year. Help us find comfort in each other; help us embrace our differences. Help us do the latter in tandem with full respect for the lives of everyone. Highlight our past flaws, and demonstrate what good can happen when all humanity is treated as equally valuable and significant. Let us understand that we are both the most important people and the least important people. Let us sing to the Earth as long as we shall live, and even louder when some lights seem to go out. Don’t let us grow complacent in keeping the work of our recently deceased heroes alive. You are my hope for the future; 2016 has yet to give many reasons to believe you’ll be much better, so please prove yourself. I want to look back on you in a year and truly believe that there was more love and song exuded into the atmosphere than there was hate or fear. I hope this isn't too much to ask. I look forward to seeing you in just a little more than a week, and I promise to toast with sincerity to your impending duties as the man-made bookbinding for our next 365 days.

With Much Love and Anticipation,

Katy

P.S. Please remind me every day to love good more than I hate evil.