Sitting in my classroom yesterday waiting for the final 5 literary theory classes of the semester to begin, word came in that there had been a horrible shooting incident at Virginia Tech. As more information poured in and word of the number of wounded & dead reached us, my mind began to travel towards the family & friends of those caught in the horror of the moment. Now, reading news reports, I find that the young man will go down in history for committing the worst mass shooting rampage ever was one of those students that could have easily been in one of my English courses -- one of the ones many of us tend to ignore. Recent research work has lead me to understand that this young man was in a group more marginalized than many realize -- he was what we in the writing center world refer to as "Generation 1.5." My research has shown me that these students, often more than those students identified by many as ESL or international students, was a young man without a real nation to call his own. Foreign-born, U.S. educated, living on the fringes of the Anglo society, &, clearly, suffering from emotional problems, I can see how he is now being viewed as a bomb ticking down to destruction.
Many cultures do not recognize mental illness & seeking assistance, especially as a male, can be an embarrassment for both the person & their extended family. Problems are to be dealt with through perseverance & within the private privileges of the family. Having witnessed the horror that accompanied a fellow middle school instructor's son's suicide years ago, the only son of a proud Chinese family, I came to recognize how short-sighted some cultures are about mental illness. My own family, including myself, has a long history of severe depression, suicide, & other mental illnesses so recognizing & addressing these concerns is something that I have worked hard to make my children aware of. Reading about how the faculty & students who knew this young man were concerned enough about him & the writing work that he did for classes to turn refer him for counseling tells me that this "child" was in desperate need of intervention. More attention must be taken by the public to actively pursue help for those showing signs of emotional duress so that horrors such as those at VT, my friend's son, the fellow UAA student who committed suicide last week, & so many others can be helped.
Today, my prayers go to those families & individuals at VT & in its surrounding community who have suffered the losses created by the desperate acts committed yesterday. I also pray for & weep with the family of the young man who was moved to such destructive measures, to the taking of both his life & the lives of others. A suicide note, rambling or well-composed, will never tell us what was really happening in the mind of those who commit such atrocities - what we can know, without a doubt, is that had more aggressive action been taken on the part of the man's family & the university, many lives would have been saved. So, pray -- pray for the families, pray for the victims, pray for those injured & recovering, &, more importantly, pray for those who sit on that edge even now that help may find them or they may find their way to help so that no more tears need be shed for useless losses.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Suicide -- tragedy or relief?
Last night, as I was checking my email, I received a "breaking news" alert from my local newspaper which I subscribe to online & in paper form. Opening the article, I found that the body of a woman in her mid-30s had been discovered in Cook Inlet -- an apparent suicide. Busy with school work & not wanting to really think about something as depressing as a person taking their life when Spring is finally on its way here in Anchorage, I clicked the delete button & went about my business. This morning, walking into my first class of the day, I saw my baby sister sitting alone (unusual for her to say the least) & appearing deep in thought. Since I hadn't talk to her in a few days, I went up to give her a hug & chat for a few minutes.
The conversation started normally (wuz up sweetums?), turned toward the play she had written for her theatre class, & then, almost without warning, she says "And I'm sad because my good friend, H---, drove her Jeep off a cliff into the inlet yesterday. I was in shock -- the "breaking news" had been about a person I had met, albeit briefly, through my sister, who was an active church member, & who had two small children. As my sister provided more details, I kept thinking, why? Depression -- Yes. Drugs -- in the past. Other problems -- most definitely. But, why now? When the world seems to be breathing a deep sigh of relief after a long, hard winter -- why now? But then, why ever?
Just over a year ago, a friend of mine from school decided to end his life. 32 years ago, my grandfather chose to take his own life. Several other relatives of mine have attempted, some multiple times, to end their lives. I've been hospitalized under "suicide watch" twice as has my father. So, what am I getting to -- where is this all going? I'm not sure except that I find myself straddling a fence of sorts, one that sees suicide as a means to an end that brings, at least for the person committing the act, the end to the pain & struggle that has gone on, often, for years & years. I mean, is suicide all that different from finding out you have a terminal disease & chosing to allow the disease to take its course instead of going through chemotherapy or other methods meant to extend your life? We lost one of my aunts this week -- to aggressive lung cancer. She chose to live her life out, whatever time was left, without scientific intervention that would prolong the inevitable. Staying home, using ground up pain meds to get through those last hours, she died as she lived -- by her own will.
Life is a mystery to me yet it is one that I meet each day with a feeling of joy, even on days like today when the semester nears its end, I'm way behind in my writing process, I've got a head cold that just won't go away, & I'm catching a plane to Texas tonight to present at an international conference. The pain I have suffered in my past was difficult &, at the time it was happening, I was unsure I would get through it. Still, I persisted &, thank God, so did my family. I have a difficult time thinking of what might happen in my life that would convince me to decide to end things, to make death more welcome than life. But, & here it goes again, I have known people who suffered so greatly & for so long, with no familial support that the pain becomes more than they can handle. My sister's friend had a loving church family & children who loved her but it wasn't enough. What is enough?
It seems the more I think about this subject, the more confused I get. See, I think what my aunt chose to do was fine -- she had a right to live & die her way. Maybe the fact that she had a terminal disease made her decisions easier to accept -- I mean 8-12 weeks of living life as fully as possible or 6-8 months of chemo side effects, radiation burns, & still knowing you weren't going to see next Christmas. Suicide seems, at first glance, such a selfish thing to do. It seems such a slap in the face to those who loved the leaver, who gave their tears & hearts to supporting that person -- as if to say, "Sorry folks! You just didn't come up to muster so I'm out of here." I don't think that my friend, my sister's friend, or my grandfather would say, "Yes, that's why I did it." Instead, they would talk about the pain their were in for so long & how life became too difficult to bear. My grandfather & my sister's friend were Christians -- I believe that they called for Jesus at their final moment & I believe that Jesus came to them. Even my friend who didn't profess a love of Christ was held gently by the angels who stayed with him, so that he was not alone. I just wish there was some way I could tell these people that sticking around isn't such a bad idea. I'm one of those who wants to give the world a big hug & make it all better but I know I can't. All I can do is lend an ear, pray a prayer, and hope that those around me here me when I say, "Suicide may be a relief for you, in this moment, with this incredible pain -- but its permanent & the tragedy of your leaving will forever affect those who remain. Say awhile, rest awhile. Let tomorrow be the day you choose your final destiny but for now -- let it go."
The conversation started normally (wuz up sweetums?), turned toward the play she had written for her theatre class, & then, almost without warning, she says "And I'm sad because my good friend, H---, drove her Jeep off a cliff into the inlet yesterday. I was in shock -- the "breaking news" had been about a person I had met, albeit briefly, through my sister, who was an active church member, & who had two small children. As my sister provided more details, I kept thinking, why? Depression -- Yes. Drugs -- in the past. Other problems -- most definitely. But, why now? When the world seems to be breathing a deep sigh of relief after a long, hard winter -- why now? But then, why ever?
Just over a year ago, a friend of mine from school decided to end his life. 32 years ago, my grandfather chose to take his own life. Several other relatives of mine have attempted, some multiple times, to end their lives. I've been hospitalized under "suicide watch" twice as has my father. So, what am I getting to -- where is this all going? I'm not sure except that I find myself straddling a fence of sorts, one that sees suicide as a means to an end that brings, at least for the person committing the act, the end to the pain & struggle that has gone on, often, for years & years. I mean, is suicide all that different from finding out you have a terminal disease & chosing to allow the disease to take its course instead of going through chemotherapy or other methods meant to extend your life? We lost one of my aunts this week -- to aggressive lung cancer. She chose to live her life out, whatever time was left, without scientific intervention that would prolong the inevitable. Staying home, using ground up pain meds to get through those last hours, she died as she lived -- by her own will.
Life is a mystery to me yet it is one that I meet each day with a feeling of joy, even on days like today when the semester nears its end, I'm way behind in my writing process, I've got a head cold that just won't go away, & I'm catching a plane to Texas tonight to present at an international conference. The pain I have suffered in my past was difficult &, at the time it was happening, I was unsure I would get through it. Still, I persisted &, thank God, so did my family. I have a difficult time thinking of what might happen in my life that would convince me to decide to end things, to make death more welcome than life. But, & here it goes again, I have known people who suffered so greatly & for so long, with no familial support that the pain becomes more than they can handle. My sister's friend had a loving church family & children who loved her but it wasn't enough. What is enough?
It seems the more I think about this subject, the more confused I get. See, I think what my aunt chose to do was fine -- she had a right to live & die her way. Maybe the fact that she had a terminal disease made her decisions easier to accept -- I mean 8-12 weeks of living life as fully as possible or 6-8 months of chemo side effects, radiation burns, & still knowing you weren't going to see next Christmas. Suicide seems, at first glance, such a selfish thing to do. It seems such a slap in the face to those who loved the leaver, who gave their tears & hearts to supporting that person -- as if to say, "Sorry folks! You just didn't come up to muster so I'm out of here." I don't think that my friend, my sister's friend, or my grandfather would say, "Yes, that's why I did it." Instead, they would talk about the pain their were in for so long & how life became too difficult to bear. My grandfather & my sister's friend were Christians -- I believe that they called for Jesus at their final moment & I believe that Jesus came to them. Even my friend who didn't profess a love of Christ was held gently by the angels who stayed with him, so that he was not alone. I just wish there was some way I could tell these people that sticking around isn't such a bad idea. I'm one of those who wants to give the world a big hug & make it all better but I know I can't. All I can do is lend an ear, pray a prayer, and hope that those around me here me when I say, "Suicide may be a relief for you, in this moment, with this incredible pain -- but its permanent & the tragedy of your leaving will forever affect those who remain. Say awhile, rest awhile. Let tomorrow be the day you choose your final destiny but for now -- let it go."
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
"Advanced" Education
Who is it that came up with the idea that the more college education a person had the more intelligence and knowledge that person contained? Coming to the conclusion of my first year of graduate school, I have begun to feel that my mind gets increasingly foggier as the semesters pass. At the rate I'm going, by this time next year, I will have succeeded in the completion (or near completion) of my master's degree program and I won't have a single brain cell left with which to make logical choices. Even now, I can no longer pick up a novel and read it for the sheer enjoyment that reading has always provided me in the past. Instead, my mind teems with details of literary critical theory and I find myself wondering how Marx or Freud would assess the writings of J.D. Robb or James Patterson. Education has always played an important part in my life and in the life of my family. However, being the first one of the family (out of three children & two parents) to acquire my college degree much less move on to a graduate program, I have started rethinking my position on higher education. What, you may ask does this mean? I have no clue. My heart's desire has long been to be a teacher -- but one at the collegiate level, not a K-12 instructor. This, of course, requires the earning of a doctorate as well as the specialization in a specific area of knowledge. My prayer is that, with the passage of a few more years, I will be able to find a balance between the joys that learning have always brought me and the stress of becoming "specialized" in a specific area of study. Right now, my goal is to reach the end of this semester & complete my final exams without having a meltdown -- the rest will come after I spend some time communing with God, nature, and my family while taking a break from being a "pro" -- thank GOD summer is almost here!
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