On NPR’s Fresh Air the other day, writer/actor Mindy Kaling discussed her mother’s parenting style and how it differed from her own. She spoke of a time when she received a participation trophy for basketball camp, and her mom took it away, saying, “You didn’t do anything to get this.”

As the quarantine to prevent spread of the Coronavirus began, I was prepared mentally and logistically but I don’t think I had prepared for the longevity of it, the semi-permanence. 

One day, my son Graham received a medal in the mail from his basketball team. It was a participation medal for a season cut short. He’s a good baller, and he deserved it.  

But as I held the medal in my hand I took in the meaning—basketball was over, this quarantine/social distancing thing wasn’t going away any time soon. And it struck me that when we are able to return to our everyday lives (be it a new normal or a true normal), we all deserve medals. Not participation trophies but finisher’s medals.

Participation trophies imply just showing up. Maybe you worked hard, maybe you didn’t. Someone who receives a finisher’s medal at the end of a race is recognized not for participating but for getting to the finish line, for having the endurance, the mental strength, the physical strength to finish the race, whether first or last.

We are all enduring and coping with the current situation differently. I’ve seen it described by many as being in the same storm, but with different boats, carrying varying loads. 

I’d like to think that we’re together in the same long-distance race. Some will walk, some will run, some will do both. Many racers will need rest breaks and encouragement, but they will be spurred on partially because of the community of racers around them, all in this together, all working to the same goal of just finishing this race, and eventually hugging each other in elation that we did it.