The month of September is National Suicide Prevention Month. The Week of September 9-15 is Suicide Prevention Day, and Monday, September 10th is World Suicide Prevention Day. In honor of all of those, I have written the following entry in memory of my son, Peyton James, whom I lost to suicide in October of 2014. This is for him and all the other children who have been lost too soon.
As of Monday, August 27th, all schools in Texas were back in session. From Orange across to El Paso and from Booker down to Brownsville, more than five million students are now actively engaged in learning across the state. From reading and writing to robotics and rhetorical analysis, students are working toward their goals and preparing for their futures.
On August 16th, 2018, students returned to class at East View High School in Georgetown, Texas. However, one member of the class of 2019 was not there to begin his senior year because in October of 2014, during his eighth grade year, he came home from school, went into his room and hanged himself. Despite the best efforts of first responders and the medical staff at Dell Children's Medical Center, Peyton did not survive his injuries. On that day, he was one of 123 people in the United States (on average) that lost their life to suicide.
Now I am left to wonder what might have been. For me, there are no senior pictures or the last first day of school pictures. There will be no prodding and poking to get college applications sent in, no anxious days spent waiting for a reply, and no celebrations or consolations when word finally comes. There will be no class rank, senioritis, no "I don't have to turn it in, and I will still pass." There will be no invitations, caps, gowns, or tassels. There will be no prom, tuxedos, limos, or awkwardly posed pictures with friends. Finally, there will be no sitting through the tedium of speeches, introductions, and marches just to hear them announce "Peyton Andrew James". Sadly, I am not the first parent to go through this, and even worse, I won't be the last.
According to the most recent statistics from the CDC, there were more than 45,000 suicides in the United States in 2016, an average 123 per day, and a 30% increase since 1999. For teens, the rate of suicide has rose more than 70% since 2006. Even among preteens, the number has more than doubled, most recently, 9 year old Jamel Myles of Denver Colorado took his life after being bullied at school. So what to do?
Approximately 20 states, including Texas, have some sort of legislation that requires annual teacher training in suicide recognition. Unfortunately, many states leave it to the individual districts as to how to approach the training. This means that some districts will delve deeply into the training, others will do as little as possible in order to satisfy the state minimums. Recently however, New York and Virginia passed state laws requiring mental health education as part of the curriculum. These laws recognized the need for understanding mental health (the leading cause of suicide) for all students. The Virginia law mandates that mental health education be part of the curricula for 9th and 10th graders, while the New York law changes the overall health education curriculum in elementary, middle school, and high school. Laws such as this will go further to addressing the most common contributing factor in suicides. Unfortunately, with most educators already being overburdened, and most educational systems being underfunded, it is hard to see laws such as Virginia's and New York's becoming the rule and not the exception.
On average, every day, 11 youths will lose their life to suicide. Eleven families will be destroyed. Eleven communities will be left to wonder what happened. Eleven schools will bring in counselors for any students who may need to talk. Some of those schools will address the problem head on, implement policies and procedures to make sure that it never happens again, some will allow a period of mourning and then go back to business as usual, and others still will fight to go back to the status quo, prepare for the state testing and pretend that it never happened, until it does again.
So as we all slow down in school zones, cheer our hearts out on Friday nights, complain about the amount of homework that the teachers assign, or gas up the minivan to taxi the kids from lessons to practice to tutorials, or invest in a homecoming mum that will rival a Rose Bowl float (Texans know what I'm talking about), let's take a minute to think about the senior year, or any other year, that never will be.
