If you don't think your anxiety, depression, sadness and stress impact your physical health, think again. All of these emotions trigger chemical reactions in your body, which can lead to inflammation and a weakened immune system. Learn how to cope, sweet friend. There will always be dark days. -Kris Carr, New York Times Best selling author
Last week, I was honored to speak at a community forum about suicide and mental health. Our community has experienced a rash of suicides, including two students, and close to 2,000 people attended. After the forum, I spoke with some of those that attended and told me their stories very similar to mine. They had lost a child, or had one battling mental illness. I wasn't able to talk with everyone, and handed out my card to others asking them to call or email me.
One of the emails I received was from John* asking me to call him to speak about his daughter. Because it was Mother's Day weekend, I had to put it off a few days when I did get a hold of him, he was most anxious to talk. It seems young daughter Nancy* began to deal with the symptoms of depression and anxiety during the fall of her freshman year of high school. By January, Nancy, a child that had just been moved up to the varsity swim team, was barely able to leave her room.
Her father was near tears as he told me this. It has to be hard, as a parent, to see your once vibrant child reduced to a shadow of their former self.
As we continued to talk, he made a comment that struck home. He asked why a school will have three athletic trainers to fix an athlete's body to get them back on the field, but no one to fix their mind to get them back in the classroom. He made a good point. Many of the larger schools in Texas have athletic trainers on the staff. They treat athletic, (as well as band, drill team, and cheer leading injuries), and are a blessing, especially at lower income schools where many student athletes don't have access to sports medicine. Don't get me wrong, as a coach, I am grateful for the training staff at our school. They do an incredible job, and treat all athletes, regardless of sport, equally, and because of them, our student athletes are able to compete at a high level.
But what about the students that are injured mentally? What is being done for them? I know schools have guidance counselors on campus, but how many are sufficiently trained to handle students with severe mental health issues, and just like any other profession from teaching, to chefs, to knife throwers, there are those that are good, and those, eh, not so much.
When I look at the faculty roster for a random high school, there are three people listed as Diagnostician/Psychological Assoc., but after further research, that means they hold the title Licensed Specialist in School Psychology (LSSP) An LSSP will evaluate kids for Special Education (SPED) using testing materials much like a psychologist, but they are generally not a school psychologist, as that requires a Doctorate according to Texas state law. An LSSP is trained to evaluation children and adolescents’ behavioral, emotional, and social functioning in order to help them succeed academically. An LSSP can provide direct services such as behavioral interventions; therapy; consultation with teachers, parents and other professionals; and make recommendations for whether or not a child might qualify for special education services. In addition, the LSSP may only provide services in a school and not outside. According to the job description I found on several district websites, the majority of LSSp's are generally in special education, and do not counsel most students. Once again, I am not trying to diminish the work of an LSSP. Theirs is a nonstop job of meetings, consultations, evaluations, and the reams of paper work that the state and districts require.
I went to several district websites and accessed the student/parent handbook. This used to go home every year, but is now available on line for easy access provided you have internet access. Of the ones that mentioned suicide, they all had, word for word, the same statement:
Suicide Awareness: The district is committed to partnering with parents to support the healthy
mental, emotional, and behavioral development of its students. If you are concerned about your
child, please access http://www.texassuicideprevention.org or contact the school counselor for
more information related to suicide prevention services available in your area.
It is though they have a one size fits all approach to the issue, if they even approach the topic.
Unfortunately, there were several multi-school 6A districts that made no mention of suicide in their handbook.
Take some time to look over the staff roster for your child's district. You will see teachers listed as the Intervention Specialist, the Response to Intervention Support Teacher, the Student Success Teacher, Psychological Associates, Counselors, LSSP's, and Professional Athletic Trainers. All are there for your kids. All have their best interests at heart, but how many are there when your child has issues beyond grades, standardized tests, or sprained ankles? Isn't it time school districts devoted time and money to mental, as well as physical health? As a tax payer, you have a say in how things are done in your district. Attend board meetings, rally other parents, talk to the board members you elected. If they are going to spend money to treat an athlete's body, then they can spend the money to treat your child's mind
Showing posts with label students. Show all posts
Showing posts with label students. Show all posts
Sunday, May 15, 2016
Thursday, May 5, 2016
Speech at Community Forum: Taming the Beast
On May 4, 2016, I presented to a community forum in The Woodlands, Texas to address the growing suicide problem in the Woodlands and surrounding community. This is the speech I gave.
Good evening and thank you for coming tonight. My name is David James. I'm a teacher and coach at College Park High School, the founder of #Products4Peyton, and an advocate for the #PeytonHeartProject, but most important, I am the father of my forever 13 year old son Peyton James. I truly wish that none of us were here, but unfortunately, that's not the case.
On October 8, 2014, I received the phone call every parent dreads. I was sitting in my truck about to leave work when my phone rang. I looked at the caller ID and saw it was Jacki, Peyton's mother and my ex-wife. I thought about ignoring the call and letting it go to voice mail. I had already had a bad day, it was late, and I didn't want to deal with any more drama at that moment, but something made me answer.
All she said was, "David, you need to speak to this police officer," In the second it took for her to hand the phone over, my mind raced through several scenarios from "there has been an accident" to "Peyton's temper has finally gotten the best of him."
The officer took the phone "Sir, this is Officer So and So (I remember so many details of that day, but names still elude me) of the Georgetown Police Department. Peyton James has hung himself." With those five words, my world turned upside down forever.
I sat in my truck, in that empty parking lot, momentarily stunned, listening to the rain pound on the roof before I completely lost it. I screamed, yelled, beat on the steering wheel and the roof of the cab with all my might. I bargained with God and offered my life for Peyton's, but to no avail. I managed to compose myself long enough to call my wife to come and get me, but after that, I lost all control until she arrived and was able to console me.
That night, my wife Lisa, daughter Emmalee, and I traveled through the rain, traffic, and darkness to Dell Children's Medical Center in Austin to be by Peyton's bedside, but despite the heroic efforts of everyone from first responders to the incredible doctors, nurses and staff at the hospital, Peyton's injuries proved too severe. He was declared brain dead at 12:02 AM on October 13, 2014, and was laid to rest six days later.
Like many survivors of suicide, I wanted to know why my son would take his own life. At first I looked to bullying. Peyton had reported another student at his school for harassment the day before, and it had been a constant in Peyton's since elementary school. His red hair, freckles, glasses and small stature made him an easy target, and more than once it took the threat of legal action to get his schools to take action. While it may have been a reason, it wasn't the cause.
Because Peyton's death was a suicide, an autopsy was required. When we received the results from the Travis County Medical Examiner it listed suicide as the cause, but I wasn't satisfied. I wanted to know why my son would choose to end his life. It was then that I began to do my own research. Like many in today's society, I typed "causes of suicide" into Google. I read, and I read, and I read. What I discovered is that 90% of the people that complete suicide are dealing with some kind of mental illness, many times undiagnosed and untreated. I learned that the most common mental illness, depression is the cause of over two-thirds of the reported suicides in the U.S. each year. I also learned that untreated depression is the number one risk for suicide among youth, it is the third leading cause of death in 15 to 24 year olds, and the fourth leading cause of death in 10 to 14 year olds. In Peyton's case, it was depression and anxiety. Once you add in severe ADHD and the bullying, you have a perfect storm in the head of a person without the coping skills to deal with it. The crippling emotional pain he lived with, that allowed him to believe that death was the answer and that his family would be better off without him, had all became too much for him to deal with on that October afternoon.
When Peyton was 10 or 11, he began telling us that he "wished he were dead" or he "should just kill himself", and at first we thought it was just a was to deflect the trouble he was in or a way to seek attention. He continued with the threats until one night his mother called him on it and took him to the emergency room. He wasn't admitted that night, but through his pediatrician, and a psychiatrist, was diagnosed with depression and anxiety at the age of 12. He started taking medication and attending counseling, and seemed to be improving until that fateful day.
As parents, his mother and I did everything we could, but it wasn't enough. That's the thing with mental illness, you never know what the breaking point will be. It's like an empty glass. When the glass is empty, things are fine, but when you add in other stressors: grades but I studied so hard, bullying you're a little pussy, pressure to succeed how will you get into a good college with grades like this, divorce Daddy is going to go live some where else, death Papa went to be with God this morning, siblings I'm telling Mommy, parents I said turn off the damn TV and do your homework, the glass gets fuller and fuller to the point that all it takes is one or two drops to over flow.
Unfortunately, I know quite a bit about depression. I have battled the Beast since I was a teenager. I had always known that there was something wrong with me emotionally, but I never knew what. It wasn't until my late 30's that I finally addressed the issue. There were many reasons I waited that long. I grew up in an age where it was "just a phase", and there was so little known about mental illness that information was not readily available. I thought it was something that I could deal with on my own,or that it would go away eventually, but most of all was that I feared coming forward and admitting there was a problem. The stigma of mental illness was, and still is, a hard one to over come. Once I sought treatment, I learned how to tame the Beast and keep it under control. That was until Peyton's suicide, and now we do battle daily.
So what is it like to battle the Beast? The biggest challenge I face every day is getting out of bed. When the alarm goes off in the morning (although I am usually awake and full of dread long before that), I have to decide if I am going to face my demons, or give in and call in sick. I take my medication that is supposed to help, and I have no doubt that it does help, because the Beast hasn't taken over yet. I go through my morning routine, pour my coffee, and get in my truck for the drive to work. Some days I hope that some one will rear end me or t-bone me and put me in the hospital for a few days. Others I wish my daughter was sick. Any legitimate excuse to stay home because I refuse to let the Beast win and make me stay home. I will not give in to it, and I will let it dictate my life.
At work, the same student behavior that I used to find humorous or just ignore, now pisses me off. "This is stupid" or "I don't want to do this," hit me like hot needles under my nails. I want to scream "You have opportunities my son never will! Shut up and take advantage of those chances instead of bitching about it," but instead, I just a take a deep breath, look at the clock, bite my tongue, and count the minutes left.
I hear snippets of conversations in the halls about parties, drugs, and alcohol, and wonder, "Are they trying to tame the Beast?" If they are, they're going about it the wrong way, as so many of their generation does, but because the Beast has become "He who shall not be named," in the "not my child" era they use what is available instead of what is proper.
When I'm at home, there are times I'll binge watch Netflix, play XBox, or lose myself in a book rather than face life because all around me are reminders of Peyton, who he was, and who he never will be. I want to hold my daughter close and never let go, but she is too much like her brother, and can't sit still. At bed time, I rely on Ambien to sleep, otherwise the anxiety of what has or might happen keeps poking at my brain until the wee hours of the morning.
Depression has many symptoms:
If any of these symptoms apply to you or some one you know, and last more than two weeks, I beg of you, please seek help. If you were had the flu, or a constant, nagging headache, or trouble breathing, you would seek medical help. The same goes for your emotions. Begin with your family doctor and go from there. They can refer you to the appropriate mental health professionals if necessary. Depression, anxiety, and bipolar disorder are all illnesses just like cancer and diabetes, and should be treated as such.
You also need to follow the course of treatment that is recommended. Up to 80% of those treated for depression show an improvement in their symptoms generally within four to six weeks of beginning medication, psychotherapy, attending support groups or a combination of these treatments. If that means medication, then take the medication. If it means counseling, then go to counseling. There is no shame in either. If the first medication doesn't work, try another. If you don't click with your first therapist, find another. Just like any other illness, there is no "one size fits all" approach. What ever you do, don't give up or give in to the Beast.
If you needed chemotherapy or dialysis, would you refuse to go because you are worried about what the neighbors or your family might say? Hell no, you would attack the illness head one, get a hold of it, fight it, and do what ever is necessary to defeat it. Just like any other illness, it will take time, there will be missteps, back slides, good days, bad days, and worse days. You will want to give up. You will want to give in, but don't. As the Scottish poet Dylan Thomas powerfully states, and I have tattooed on my arm to remember:
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Fight it like your life depends on it, because in the end, it very well might.
Good night Boo. Daddy loves you very much.
Thank you.
Good evening and thank you for coming tonight. My name is David James. I'm a teacher and coach at College Park High School, the founder of #Products4Peyton, and an advocate for the #PeytonHeartProject, but most important, I am the father of my forever 13 year old son Peyton James. I truly wish that none of us were here, but unfortunately, that's not the case.
On October 8, 2014, I received the phone call every parent dreads. I was sitting in my truck about to leave work when my phone rang. I looked at the caller ID and saw it was Jacki, Peyton's mother and my ex-wife. I thought about ignoring the call and letting it go to voice mail. I had already had a bad day, it was late, and I didn't want to deal with any more drama at that moment, but something made me answer.
All she said was, "David, you need to speak to this police officer," In the second it took for her to hand the phone over, my mind raced through several scenarios from "there has been an accident" to "Peyton's temper has finally gotten the best of him."
The officer took the phone "Sir, this is Officer So and So (I remember so many details of that day, but names still elude me) of the Georgetown Police Department. Peyton James has hung himself." With those five words, my world turned upside down forever.
I sat in my truck, in that empty parking lot, momentarily stunned, listening to the rain pound on the roof before I completely lost it. I screamed, yelled, beat on the steering wheel and the roof of the cab with all my might. I bargained with God and offered my life for Peyton's, but to no avail. I managed to compose myself long enough to call my wife to come and get me, but after that, I lost all control until she arrived and was able to console me.
That night, my wife Lisa, daughter Emmalee, and I traveled through the rain, traffic, and darkness to Dell Children's Medical Center in Austin to be by Peyton's bedside, but despite the heroic efforts of everyone from first responders to the incredible doctors, nurses and staff at the hospital, Peyton's injuries proved too severe. He was declared brain dead at 12:02 AM on October 13, 2014, and was laid to rest six days later.
Like many survivors of suicide, I wanted to know why my son would take his own life. At first I looked to bullying. Peyton had reported another student at his school for harassment the day before, and it had been a constant in Peyton's since elementary school. His red hair, freckles, glasses and small stature made him an easy target, and more than once it took the threat of legal action to get his schools to take action. While it may have been a reason, it wasn't the cause.
Because Peyton's death was a suicide, an autopsy was required. When we received the results from the Travis County Medical Examiner it listed suicide as the cause, but I wasn't satisfied. I wanted to know why my son would choose to end his life. It was then that I began to do my own research. Like many in today's society, I typed "causes of suicide" into Google. I read, and I read, and I read. What I discovered is that 90% of the people that complete suicide are dealing with some kind of mental illness, many times undiagnosed and untreated. I learned that the most common mental illness, depression is the cause of over two-thirds of the reported suicides in the U.S. each year. I also learned that untreated depression is the number one risk for suicide among youth, it is the third leading cause of death in 15 to 24 year olds, and the fourth leading cause of death in 10 to 14 year olds. In Peyton's case, it was depression and anxiety. Once you add in severe ADHD and the bullying, you have a perfect storm in the head of a person without the coping skills to deal with it. The crippling emotional pain he lived with, that allowed him to believe that death was the answer and that his family would be better off without him, had all became too much for him to deal with on that October afternoon.
When Peyton was 10 or 11, he began telling us that he "wished he were dead" or he "should just kill himself", and at first we thought it was just a was to deflect the trouble he was in or a way to seek attention. He continued with the threats until one night his mother called him on it and took him to the emergency room. He wasn't admitted that night, but through his pediatrician, and a psychiatrist, was diagnosed with depression and anxiety at the age of 12. He started taking medication and attending counseling, and seemed to be improving until that fateful day.
As parents, his mother and I did everything we could, but it wasn't enough. That's the thing with mental illness, you never know what the breaking point will be. It's like an empty glass. When the glass is empty, things are fine, but when you add in other stressors: grades but I studied so hard, bullying you're a little pussy, pressure to succeed how will you get into a good college with grades like this, divorce Daddy is going to go live some where else, death Papa went to be with God this morning, siblings I'm telling Mommy, parents I said turn off the damn TV and do your homework, the glass gets fuller and fuller to the point that all it takes is one or two drops to over flow.
Unfortunately, I know quite a bit about depression. I have battled the Beast since I was a teenager. I had always known that there was something wrong with me emotionally, but I never knew what. It wasn't until my late 30's that I finally addressed the issue. There were many reasons I waited that long. I grew up in an age where it was "just a phase", and there was so little known about mental illness that information was not readily available. I thought it was something that I could deal with on my own,or that it would go away eventually, but most of all was that I feared coming forward and admitting there was a problem. The stigma of mental illness was, and still is, a hard one to over come. Once I sought treatment, I learned how to tame the Beast and keep it under control. That was until Peyton's suicide, and now we do battle daily.
So what is it like to battle the Beast? The biggest challenge I face every day is getting out of bed. When the alarm goes off in the morning (although I am usually awake and full of dread long before that), I have to decide if I am going to face my demons, or give in and call in sick. I take my medication that is supposed to help, and I have no doubt that it does help, because the Beast hasn't taken over yet. I go through my morning routine, pour my coffee, and get in my truck for the drive to work. Some days I hope that some one will rear end me or t-bone me and put me in the hospital for a few days. Others I wish my daughter was sick. Any legitimate excuse to stay home because I refuse to let the Beast win and make me stay home. I will not give in to it, and I will let it dictate my life.
At work, the same student behavior that I used to find humorous or just ignore, now pisses me off. "This is stupid" or "I don't want to do this," hit me like hot needles under my nails. I want to scream "You have opportunities my son never will! Shut up and take advantage of those chances instead of bitching about it," but instead, I just a take a deep breath, look at the clock, bite my tongue, and count the minutes left.
I hear snippets of conversations in the halls about parties, drugs, and alcohol, and wonder, "Are they trying to tame the Beast?" If they are, they're going about it the wrong way, as so many of their generation does, but because the Beast has become "He who shall not be named," in the "not my child" era they use what is available instead of what is proper.
When I'm at home, there are times I'll binge watch Netflix, play XBox, or lose myself in a book rather than face life because all around me are reminders of Peyton, who he was, and who he never will be. I want to hold my daughter close and never let go, but she is too much like her brother, and can't sit still. At bed time, I rely on Ambien to sleep, otherwise the anxiety of what has or might happen keeps poking at my brain until the wee hours of the morning.
Depression has many symptoms:
- Feeling lethargic -- having no energy
- The inability to concentrate
- Sleeping too much or too little
- Eating too much or too little
- Feeling worthless, hopeless, helpless, negative or pessimistic
- Losing interest in activities that you previously enjoyed
- Crying frequently
- Withdrawing from others
- Neglecting personal appearance
- Feeling angry or guilty
- Unable to think clearly or make decisions
If any of these symptoms apply to you or some one you know, and last more than two weeks, I beg of you, please seek help. If you were had the flu, or a constant, nagging headache, or trouble breathing, you would seek medical help. The same goes for your emotions. Begin with your family doctor and go from there. They can refer you to the appropriate mental health professionals if necessary. Depression, anxiety, and bipolar disorder are all illnesses just like cancer and diabetes, and should be treated as such.
You also need to follow the course of treatment that is recommended. Up to 80% of those treated for depression show an improvement in their symptoms generally within four to six weeks of beginning medication, psychotherapy, attending support groups or a combination of these treatments. If that means medication, then take the medication. If it means counseling, then go to counseling. There is no shame in either. If the first medication doesn't work, try another. If you don't click with your first therapist, find another. Just like any other illness, there is no "one size fits all" approach. What ever you do, don't give up or give in to the Beast.
If you needed chemotherapy or dialysis, would you refuse to go because you are worried about what the neighbors or your family might say? Hell no, you would attack the illness head one, get a hold of it, fight it, and do what ever is necessary to defeat it. Just like any other illness, it will take time, there will be missteps, back slides, good days, bad days, and worse days. You will want to give up. You will want to give in, but don't. As the Scottish poet Dylan Thomas powerfully states, and I have tattooed on my arm to remember:
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Fight it like your life depends on it, because in the end, it very well might.
Good night Boo. Daddy loves you very much.
Thank you.
Saturday, April 23, 2016
Standardized Testing Matters...Kid's Lives, Not So Much
We are raising today's children in sterile, risk-averse and highly structured environments. In so doing, we are failing to cultivate artists, pioneers and entrepreneurs, and instead cultivating a generation of children who can follow the rules in organized sports games, sit for hours in front of screens and mark bubbles on standardized tests. Darell Hammond, CEO KaBoom
In June of 2015, Texas Governor Greg Abbott signed HB2186, The Jason Flatt Act in Memory of Johnathan Childers, into law. The law requires that all Texas schools train their teachers, counselors, and administrators on suicide recognition and prevention. I helped lobby for HB2186. I wrote numerous emails, made dozens of posts to social media, and met face to face with lawmakers and their staffs. The bill passed both the House and Senate of the Texas legislature almost unanimously, and because of that, went into effect immediately after being signed.
Before this law went into effect, Texas had no mandatory training, and the only time I can remember having any training in my 25 years as a teacher was after a student suicide. Because of my involvement, I anxiously anticipated what my school would come up with. In addition to my son Peyton (not a student at our school), we lost a young lady to suicide the previous school year. I was expecting this training to be in depth and informative. What we received, could have been taken off the home page from any of a dozen suicide prevention web sites.
It began with the introduction of our "...exciting suicide training," followed by our lead counselor stating "I know we did this last year, but now state law says we have to do it again." After this statement many of those in attendance turned to look at me and gauge my reaction. I tried to look impassive, but inside I was seething. I wanted to walk out while shouting, "Are you f-ing kidding me?" Not only appalled by the casual manner that this matter was treated with, but also with the incorrect information that was presented (i.e. cutters aren't suicidal), and the fact that a presentation designed to help save lives too less than 15 minutes to complete. I left as quickly as I could and went upstairs to my classroom. I was fuming, but what could I do. If the topic had mattered, then more time would have been given to it.
Fast forward eight months. So far this year, our district has endured two student suicides, two suicides by 2015 graduates, and a teacher suicide ( see #PrayForTheVictims). I am able to count on less than one hand the number of times that the district has addressed this topic.After each death, they had the prerequisite counselors on campus, but let's face it, these are high school guidance counselors, not crisis counselors. It would not surprise me if each one had a laminated sheet covered with cliches to say.
Yesterday I attended STAAR training. For those of you, STAAR is the State of Texas Assessments of Academic Readiness. It is our state mandated test that our entire school year revolves around. Everything we do in core subjects is some how related to STAAR. Even if your students have passed all five STAAR tests, you are still judged based upon their results of STAAR based common assessments provided by the district (which are STAAR tests that have been released by the state). However, if you have a student in a core class that is not tested, but failed STAAR in a class related to your class (i.e. if the student failed the Algebra I test and you teach Geometry), you are required to come up with a plan to help that student pass when they retake the test.
Like Suicide Awareness and Prevention training, STAAR training is mandated by the state. All teachers involved with the STAAR are required to attend this training. There are multiple training sessions where you must sign in, sit through the training conducted by the campus testing specialist, go over, in detail, the procedures for the day, possible testing irregularities, setting up the testing environment, starting times, ending times, the role of each tester, the handling of materials, and of course, the litany of circumstances that could cause a teacher to lose their certification. At the end, all teachers are required to initial, sign, and date an oath stating that we have been trained, and will do anything and everything to All in all, this training takes about 30, or twice that of Suicide and Prevention training.
At my school if a student fails STAAR, they are provided with a Bootcamp in the summer where they are given intense tutoring and lessons designed to help on the summer retake. During the school year, those students are pulled out of class for one on one instruction, a full blitz day with teachers the day before the retake. We even have a one semester elective class for kids that failed the English I or English II STAAR test.
On the other hand, if a student says that they want to harm themselves, they are kept under observation by the counselor or administrator until a parent comes to pick them up. After that, they may check on them from time to time, but that is about it. There are no special classes for them, no summer programs, nothing.
Now don't get me wrong, no student should graduate high school without the basic skills necessary to function in society. But as I stated in my earlier entry Dead Kids Don't Take Tests, you can't test a dead student. Living is also a requirement for graduation. It is even a generally accepted fact that living people are more productive than those that are not.
I realize that schools are under tremendous pressure to have high test scores. There are district and state rankings to think about, and during the course of the year, more kids will fail the Algebra I section of the test than take their own lives, but for the love of all that is holy, something must be done. I know I am not in the minority of educators when I say I didn't get into education to teach a test. I got in because of my love of literature and writing, and because I give a damn about the whole student. I coach not only because of my love of sports, but because it allows me to see kids in a different light, in an environment where they not only want to be, but they can also measure their improvement in relation to their effort.
I know high stakes testing is not going away any time soon, but if public education going to continue to throw money and manpower into preparing students, and put so much emphasis on the outcome, then shouldn't they make an effort to assure that the students are there to take it.
In June of 2015, Texas Governor Greg Abbott signed HB2186, The Jason Flatt Act in Memory of Johnathan Childers, into law. The law requires that all Texas schools train their teachers, counselors, and administrators on suicide recognition and prevention. I helped lobby for HB2186. I wrote numerous emails, made dozens of posts to social media, and met face to face with lawmakers and their staffs. The bill passed both the House and Senate of the Texas legislature almost unanimously, and because of that, went into effect immediately after being signed.
Before this law went into effect, Texas had no mandatory training, and the only time I can remember having any training in my 25 years as a teacher was after a student suicide. Because of my involvement, I anxiously anticipated what my school would come up with. In addition to my son Peyton (not a student at our school), we lost a young lady to suicide the previous school year. I was expecting this training to be in depth and informative. What we received, could have been taken off the home page from any of a dozen suicide prevention web sites.
It began with the introduction of our "...exciting suicide training," followed by our lead counselor stating "I know we did this last year, but now state law says we have to do it again." After this statement many of those in attendance turned to look at me and gauge my reaction. I tried to look impassive, but inside I was seething. I wanted to walk out while shouting, "Are you f-ing kidding me?" Not only appalled by the casual manner that this matter was treated with, but also with the incorrect information that was presented (i.e. cutters aren't suicidal), and the fact that a presentation designed to help save lives too less than 15 minutes to complete. I left as quickly as I could and went upstairs to my classroom. I was fuming, but what could I do. If the topic had mattered, then more time would have been given to it.
Fast forward eight months. So far this year, our district has endured two student suicides, two suicides by 2015 graduates, and a teacher suicide ( see #PrayForTheVictims). I am able to count on less than one hand the number of times that the district has addressed this topic.After each death, they had the prerequisite counselors on campus, but let's face it, these are high school guidance counselors, not crisis counselors. It would not surprise me if each one had a laminated sheet covered with cliches to say.
Yesterday I attended STAAR training. For those of you, STAAR is the State of Texas Assessments of Academic Readiness. It is our state mandated test that our entire school year revolves around. Everything we do in core subjects is some how related to STAAR. Even if your students have passed all five STAAR tests, you are still judged based upon their results of STAAR based common assessments provided by the district (which are STAAR tests that have been released by the state). However, if you have a student in a core class that is not tested, but failed STAAR in a class related to your class (i.e. if the student failed the Algebra I test and you teach Geometry), you are required to come up with a plan to help that student pass when they retake the test.
Like Suicide Awareness and Prevention training, STAAR training is mandated by the state. All teachers involved with the STAAR are required to attend this training. There are multiple training sessions where you must sign in, sit through the training conducted by the campus testing specialist, go over, in detail, the procedures for the day, possible testing irregularities, setting up the testing environment, starting times, ending times, the role of each tester, the handling of materials, and of course, the litany of circumstances that could cause a teacher to lose their certification. At the end, all teachers are required to initial, sign, and date an oath stating that we have been trained, and will do anything and everything to All in all, this training takes about 30, or twice that of Suicide and Prevention training.
At my school if a student fails STAAR, they are provided with a Bootcamp in the summer where they are given intense tutoring and lessons designed to help on the summer retake. During the school year, those students are pulled out of class for one on one instruction, a full blitz day with teachers the day before the retake. We even have a one semester elective class for kids that failed the English I or English II STAAR test.
On the other hand, if a student says that they want to harm themselves, they are kept under observation by the counselor or administrator until a parent comes to pick them up. After that, they may check on them from time to time, but that is about it. There are no special classes for them, no summer programs, nothing.
Now don't get me wrong, no student should graduate high school without the basic skills necessary to function in society. But as I stated in my earlier entry Dead Kids Don't Take Tests, you can't test a dead student. Living is also a requirement for graduation. It is even a generally accepted fact that living people are more productive than those that are not.
I realize that schools are under tremendous pressure to have high test scores. There are district and state rankings to think about, and during the course of the year, more kids will fail the Algebra I section of the test than take their own lives, but for the love of all that is holy, something must be done. I know I am not in the minority of educators when I say I didn't get into education to teach a test. I got in because of my love of literature and writing, and because I give a damn about the whole student. I coach not only because of my love of sports, but because it allows me to see kids in a different light, in an environment where they not only want to be, but they can also measure their improvement in relation to their effort.
I know high stakes testing is not going away any time soon, but if public education going to continue to throw money and manpower into preparing students, and put so much emphasis on the outcome, then shouldn't they make an effort to assure that the students are there to take it.
Sunday, January 3, 2016
An Open Letter to School Boards Everywhere
To School Boards Everywhere:
My name is David James. I am a teacher and coach at College Park High School in The Woodlands, Texas, part of the Conroe Independent School District. I was hoping that I might have a few minutes of your time. I would like to talk to all of you about suicide. I know it is not a popular topic, and honestly, it is not an easy to talk about, and in some areas, it may even be taboo, but it is one that must be addressed, and you, as school boards have an obligation to the students of your districts. The majority of their parents voted for you, so you have an obligation.
I realize this may not be the best time for many of you. It is January, and for all the districts in Texas, that means that STAAR testing is just two and a half months away, in Massachusetts, the first part of the MCAS is less than a month away, our neighbors to the far north in Alaska will be getting AMPed up in March, and in the Heartland, Nebraskans will be looking forward to (or dreading) the NeSA. These tests are serious business. For some students, they determine if students should repeat a grade, and for others, if they will graduate. I know that high stakes testing is a big deal to many of you. After all, accountability ratings are important, as are state funds, but kids can't be tested if they are no longer with us.
I speak from experience when I say this. I lost my 13 year old son Peyton in October of 2014 after he hung himself. He was an eighth grader at Forbes Middle School in Georgetown, Texas. In no way am I abdicating my parental responsibility. Peyton's mother and I knew Peyton was suffering emotionally. He was diagnosed with depression and anxiety. We got him into counseling, and, through his doctor, were trying to find medications to help, but had not found one that provided the desired results. Unfortunately, we seem to be the exception, not the rule. Since Peyton's death, I have talked to other parents who lost children to suicide, and the most common threads in the narratives were "We never saw it coming" or "We had no idea our child was suicidal" and "They always seemed so happy."
To many, it may seem puzzling that these parents were in the dark about their children, and it is easy to dismiss these parents as neglectful, but one of the many things I have learned over my 25 years as an educator, kids are really good at hiding things, especially when it comes to mental health. Students in class rooms across the country, including your district, suffer in silence. They know that something is wrong with them, but they don't know what. They look around the room and mistakenly think they are the only one that feels different. They fear saying anything because they don't want to be ostracized or humiliated by their peers. They don't want to talk to talk to teachers, or counselors, or administrators for the same reasons. Well, that, plus we are adults, which means we would never understand.
Because education has become data driven, here is some data provided by the #JasonFoundation and the Centers for Disease Control (CDC):
- Suicide is the SECOND leading cause of death for ages 10-24. (CDC)
- Suicide is the SECOND leading cause of death for college-age youth and ages 12-18. (CDC)
- More teenagers and young adults die from suicide than from cancer, heart disease, AIDS, birth defects, stroke, pneumonia, influenza, and chronic lung disease, COMBINED.
- Each day in our nation there are an average of over 5,400 attempts by young people grades 7-12.
- Four out of Five teens who attempt suicide have given clear warning signs
- Over the past decade, however, the rate has again increased to 12.1 per 100,000. Every day, approximately 105 Americans die by suicide. (CDC)
- There is one death by suicide in the US every 13 minutes. (CDC)
- 16% of students reported seriously considering suicide. (CDC)
- 13% of students reported creating a plan. (CDC)
The same weekend that we lost Peyton, a junior at Georgetown High School took his life. Since then, I personally know of SEVEN student suicides just within Texas. The ages ranged from a ten year old in San Antonio to a senior in Rogers. The two most recent taking place here in the Woodlands within two weeks of each other. Through various message boards, Facebook groups, and the #PeytonHeartProject, I have been lucky to talk to parents across the country and around the world. To a person, we all agree that more can, and should, be done to educate not only students, but their parents (we grew up in an age when no one spoke of such things and could use the help).
So what can a school board do? Some states have enacted the #JasonFlattAct, that require regular training for teachers and staff in suicide recognition and prevention. If such a law exist in your state, make sure that it is followed and implemented. If not, lobby your state officials to pass such a law (such laws can be enacted with ZERO fiscal note). Even if there is no state law, what is to stop you from implementing policy locally? You could bring in experts from the community to speak to the students and/or the parents. You can enact programs designed to give students a safe place to go where they can talk to some one trained to deal with these problems. Yes, I understand that some of these things cost money, but is some one really going to complain that you are trying to save lives?
I know I have presented quite a bit for you to think about. I also know that there are people on the board or in the community that will disagree. They will say it is the responsibility of the parents to deal with the issue of suicide, and that schools should just stay with teaching core subjects and how to pass the state mandated standardized tests, but they are wrong. Mark Twain once said, "God made the Idiot for practice, and then He made the School Board." I want you to do the right thing and prove him wrong. After all, we can't teach them if they aren't there.
Sincerely,
David James
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