Napier's boy statue complete with face mask captures the moment. Photo / Paul Taylor
Napier's boy statue complete with face mask captures the moment. Photo / Paul Taylor
Opinion
COMMENT:
The times they are a-changin', sang Bob Dylan.
In a strange juxtaposition between the energy and flurry of the world we usually occupy where "things get done", and the currently almost empty streets, skies, and offices across the globe, there has been more "done", more change for mankind collectivelyin the past few months than arguably ever in the same period of time in the history of our world.
"Come gather round people wherever you roam, and admit that the waters around you have grown".
Nor have the times ever been a-changing' so drastically while simultaneously so peacefully, like creeping water. As we have sat in our houses with "the battle outside raging", change has slinked down the empty streets and filled our lives. Having been barely in double digits of age in the thick of the Global Financial Crisis, I have never seen people around me lose their jobs like I have seen in the past two weeks. Perhaps it was never even like this in 2008 - I wouldn't know.
"Come writers and critics, who prophesise with your pen."
In agonising irony, while the media is being called upon to come more than ever in recent times, they are being supported less. You would have seen over past weeks, in the media, of job cuts within the media industry.
Unfortunately, my time has now come as well. This will be my last column for the NZ Herald - whether for a while or forever is uncertain.
I was 19 years old when I began this column. The concept of having had the honour and privilege of doing what I did, at the age I did it, only grows more bizarre as time goes on. I suspect it will be one of the stories I tell my grandchildren too many times over. For taking that chance on me, I owe a thank-you to Murray Kirkness.
"For he who gets hurt will be he that has stalled".
The involuntary adaptation which will come from this time will be perhaps its most positive and longest lasting impact. That which lingers after this is all over, and our emotions of relief and joy dissipate, and our appreciation of all the small things we have missed begins to wane, as human nature inclines us to do.
Jake Bailey in 2017. Photo / Nick Reed
Like others, I have had to adapt to not stall. With public speaking non-viable, and my tenure writing here to cease, I am fortunate to be throwing myself into a new business called SORTD, which provides online video-based resilience learnings to high school students across New Zealand. I hope I can continue to have a positive impact on some lives through doing so, at a time when the youth of New Zealand will need resilience so greatly.
"The line is drawn, the curse it is cast".
That's my cue, time to go. Thank you for the privilege of being able to write for you for the past three years. I've spent much of that time trying my best to put things into words, but words for how much this has meant to me seem to fail me now of all times.
I wish you and your loved ones a safe and healthy passage through these trying times, with certainly more yet to come.
In May of 2017 I signed my first ever piece off with "I don't know where it goes from here, but I look forward to finding out with you". Now, in column 78, those words remain as true as ever.
