The short story: 9 students (and potentially a 10th) have been indicted for allegedly participating in months of bullying and harassment which ended January 14, 2010, when Phoebe Prince (pictured above) hung herself in her apartment lobby. She was 15.
Wrecked.
Look, the statistics on teen suicide have been well-documented, and I doubt many people would bother to argue that this kind of story is really all that surprising based on similar stories and even personal experience, but this is tragic.
Tragic because a group of adolescents for some reason targeted the new girl from Ireland because they could. They decided amongst themselves that she was of inferior worth, and it seems took advantage of every opportunity to make her aware of their twisted perceptions.
Tragic because Phoebe believed the lie that her life held no value to anyone including herself. The absolute conclusiveness of her action exhibits a soul-deep conviction that the uncertainty of afterlife must be a far better perdition than yet another day at school. Nobody managed to convince her otherwise over the course of her 15 short years.
Tragic because "The bullying of Prince was common knowledge to most of the student body and to certain faculty, staff and administrators" according to Massachusetts Northwestern District Attorney Elizabeth D. Scheibel. Most of the student body? Well, kids will be kids won't they? Oh wait, faculty, staff and administrators? Adults? Yep, kids will be kids, but it's beyond obvious that adults in authority be able to at minimum, intervene and investigate details behind what MOST everyone knows is going on.
Tragic because 9 sets of parents had no idea what their kids were up to during the day. As much as I want to be angry about this, it surfaces a grim realization of how little I know of my own children's behavior and activity for at least 1/3rd of most days. My assumption is, like myself, these parents wanted to believe their children would never treat a human being this way. They still may not believe their children did.
Tragic because Phoebe Prince is dead.
Heartbreaking situations like this happen every single day, I know. When I randomly browse my various media outlets of the day, I don't gravitate toward this type of story because I love tragedy, or because I identify with being harassed and bullied, though I do. I gravitate toward stories of tragedy based on the depravity of the human condition because I feel compelled to never, ever forget what I am capable of, and more importantly, what I feel is my duty to seek out such people and offer up even a little of my being to show compassion and love.
I fail at this daily, yet my faith obliges me, second only to my worship of God, to attempt anew each morning my commitment to follow in the footsteps of Jesus. No turning back, no turning back.
No comments:
Post a Comment