When I was seventeen I had mostly dreams, a unencumbered future, a HUGE crush on my best friend, and perhaps a tiny bit of teenage angst. I had by then experienced my fair share of sadness, having lost my father and grieved the death of my close friend Karina, but I always found enough reasons to be happy. Like sunflowers, I followed the light - And it was luckily right there in my environment. It was in the face of my friends and the unity of our class as we entered our senior year in high school.
It always strikes me as brutal how alone, sad and attacked kids in the United States feel in contrast to my own teenage experience. I wonder if it was the small size of my school and class, the fact that we started together in Kindergarten and saw each other grow into the eighteen year olds we became as we left for college , or the blessed lack of social media. We had slam books but the slamming was never horrible or aimed to cause irreparable harm. We were held accountable for the smack we talked , as we did not have the luxury of anonymity or hiding behind iPhone screens. We were family, and like family, we did not always like each other but the bonds of every day motions created an inevitable closeness that does not allow for wanting to harm someone you've seen grow up alongside yourself.
Twenty two years later I find myself thinking of a seventeen year old boy who took his own life this past weekend. When I first heard about it I had the same reaction as everyone. Tragic. Such a young life. The words depression, breakup, and bullying were mentioned. I also heard he belonged to my club and participated in water sports there. " One of the good , polite kids", someone said. So what drives a nice boy to jump in front of a train?
His friends came by the shop today to buy flowers and little succulents to put in a memorial at the train station. They weren't capitalizing on their grief as an attention grabbing vehicle, like some adults I've encountered in similar situations. They seemed stricken but only in the way girls that age can be. Their faces a mix of sadness and youth and sweetness. As I wrapped each bouquet trying to be sympathetic and professional at the same time, my heart broke a little. How does one cope with an event like this at such a young age? How does one say goodbye to a friend one had no idea was in so much pain? Why does a kid with his life ahead of him have to feel like the only way to make things better is by dying?
Driving back home this evening I was about to pass the train station when I felt the need to say a little prayer for him . The flowers his friends bought were there, along with little pots of succulents, desert plants - soaking wet , like me, under the rain. And his picture. He reminded me a little of my friend Marcela's little cousin, who we still call Eduardito, despite the fact that he's in his thirties now. He was smiling at someone , looking to the side. So young. I tried to say something and all that came out was " I'm sorry, I'm sorry". I'm sorry you felt hopeless, I'm sorry your sadness was so great you needed to escape it in such an extreme and terminal way. I'm sorry we as humans in general, aren't better.
How many faces do we see every day? Have we any idea of what is really going on behind each one of them? People we work with, the guy we see every morning in line for a Starbucks coffee, the guy who gets the door. What about those closest to us? Is it possible that two inches away from us they feel like they're drowning? How would we all look if our mental and emotional wounds were as visible as our physical ones? Would we be capable of being cruel knowing someone is in excruciating pain? Would seventeen year old kids still jump? I did not know him, or his family, but I know this- we all can and we all should be better. We are starving for empathy and love as a society. We all need it and we still don't give it. There is so much at stake and the lack of connection and community thread and legitimate caring is taking its toll on all of us. Sure, we can't be responsible for everyone's feelings- we can't , in that sense, save the world. But as a very special woman I recently met said to my group in a retreat in California " You can't carpet the whole world, but you can put on shoes". We can't change people's reality, but we can adjust the way we behave in the world. Put on your shoes. Be gentle, be kind. Please. Teach your kids. Pass it on.
