Hunter Quigley Coe
Saturday, June 13, 2015
Today I attended the funeral of a former pupil of mine, Hunter Quigley Coe. When one is a principal (and a teacher), all the pupils who cross your path remain "your kids." You might not ever see them once they leave your walls, or you might run into them from time to time, or follow them through all the media connections, and they might never know that you think about them, but in your heart, they are still and always will be "your kids." It's so difficult to understand how a vibrant, young man who truly loved "family" can take his life, but I am not here to judge. So as I face the death of Hunter, a concern I have had for some time once again slaps me in the face, and that is our society's lack of acknowledgement, understanding, and resources related to mental health. Granted I am elderly, but suddenly within the last three years I am connected to three individuals now who have family members who took their lives. The pain and suffering of the individual is difficult enough to think about, but then add the multiple lives that are impacted for years to come, and one has a very serious issue. So I am faced with thinking about my role in all of this and whether writing about it and complaining about it is enough, or do I need to take some action. At this point, I don't have any answers, just lots of questions and heartfelt concern for a problem we are pretending does not exist. In the meantime, all I can hope is that Hunter's broad smile is looking down at us and saying, "I'm at peace now."
Today I attended the funeral of a former pupil of mine, Hunter Quigley Coe. When one is a principal (and a teacher), all the pupils who cross your path remain "your kids." You might not ever see them once they leave your walls, or you might run into them from time to time, or follow them through all the media connections, and they might never know that you think about them, but in your heart, they are still and always will be "your kids." It's so difficult to understand how a vibrant, young man who truly loved "family" can take his life, but I am not here to judge. So as I face the death of Hunter, a concern I have had for some time once again slaps me in the face, and that is our society's lack of acknowledgement, understanding, and resources related to mental health. Granted I am elderly, but suddenly within the last three years I am connected to three individuals now who have family members who took their lives. The pain and suffering of the individual is difficult enough to think about, but then add the multiple lives that are impacted for years to come, and one has a very serious issue. So I am faced with thinking about my role in all of this and whether writing about it and complaining about it is enough, or do I need to take some action. At this point, I don't have any answers, just lots of questions and heartfelt concern for a problem we are pretending does not exist. In the meantime, all I can hope is that Hunter's broad smile is looking down at us and saying, "I'm at peace now."
Comments
Post a Comment