For My Viking Family

For my high school friends reading this, you might remember that this week marks the date of an important anniversary - four years since the accident that we lost a member of our class, and the first of many rounds of heartbreak and 'coming together' for us. It was the Monday after Homecoming, and entirely shocking to wake up to those text messages and news reports as reality set in that it wasn't happening to 'someone else'. The hallways that day were mostly filled with whispers and tears, not the usual loud, chaotic high school environment. People didn't talk much, teachers were less strict, and I very vividly remember going to seminar that week and seeing the empty desk behind me.

I didn't really know Courtney well, and that's really not why I'm writing this. What I do remember was the phrase that seemed to imprint itself on our student body in bold letters: "Together We Can". Although I wasn't friends with Courtney, or part of any organizations that she was, and my only real connection was that she sat behind me in one of my classes - I saw that phrase everywhere. I saw the lime green bracelets floating around the hallways, it appeared on social media, and it was engraved in my heart as I began to navigate the idea of loss - whatever that meant.

Not quite two years later, when Brenna died, the phrase made it's appearance again. Brenna was also quite popular in the band, and I'm sure that's part of the reason, but I'd also like to attribute it to the fact that those of us at school on September 28, 2010 and the days to follow learned quickly that the best way to navigate through silent hallways and tearful announcements was just that - together.

Last February, I was home for senior night, and it also happened to be two days after Seaman lost another student to a car accident. She was not in the band, and the only class remaining at Seaman at the time had been only freshmen at the time of Courtney's death. However, I noticed among the sea of pink students and posters in the gym that night there was one smaller poster in the corner - a heart drawn in pink (replacing Courtney's signature lime green) with the phrase "Together We Can" written inside.

As I watched the dynamic of the people in the gym that night, I was, as always, an incredibly proud graduate. I was proud to see Washburn Rural sporting pink t-shirts in honor of our lost student, I was proud to see our basketball team and coaches in pink socks and dress shirts, and I was proud of how our student body was still able to be loud, cheerful, and supportive of the teams playing, while realizing the seriousness of the situation that had fallen at their feet during the moment of silence. It was given when the room fell silent before the half time performance where the cheer team was missing a teammate, that they 'got it.' They understand - the best, and usually the only, way to do it is together.

Since coming to college, I've taken classes in just about every different realm. But the one that no one has ever covered for me is "How to support someone grieving" or "How to grieve" or "How to lose people" or honestly, even a course on being there for someone going through any kind of tough time or traumatic situation. What does that really look like? If you ask members of the Seaman student body something that they've learned in the past few years, many of my own classmates will tell you something along the lines of "Death is inevitable", or something to do with how quickly in life we met those tough situations. However, fortunately for us, death may be inevitable, but so is living with people.

Although I have no idea how to 'fix' certain things in this world, and I don't believe some things can be fixed, I think that the world might perhaps be a better functioning society if people simply realized that "Together We Can". In dealing with death and grief, I'll be the first to say that I have some of the best friends around - I always receive text messages and calls on anniversaries, birthdays, or days my friends know are important - even when we're hours away from each other. What if we took the time to learn these details about other areas of people's lives, not just past traumatic situations? How much easier would the 'downs' of life be to deal with? My preschoolers will tell you that the best way to help someone is by 'carrying something heavy for someone' or 'telling them their hair looks nice' - and if I can't fix it, I'd love to help them carry something heavy or be a bright spot in their day. Because quite honestly, the best, easiest, and happiest way to live with people for the rest of my life.. is probably to live it together.

The Art of Being Used

There are many things in this world that can be bought used, and there are many things that should never, ever be bought used. I will let you discern the 'never ever' list for yourself, but as a college student, I rather enjoy renting or buying used textbooks. They tend to have a positive affect on both my bank account and my learning - they're cheaper, and they often have the important parts already highlighted or circled from helpful friends who have come before me. On a very lucky day, the previous owner of the book has left a helpful sticky note inside.

Another thing I find that I must have used is my bible - maybe I'm just picky. The bible I currently use is about three years old, and I purchased it about nine months before the death of a close friend. Now, three years later, it has a few ripped pages, some sticky notes inside, and lots and lots of notes in pen from every stage that I've been in in the last three years. Additionally, some of the pages are actually falling out, so I have to be extra careful when it's in my backpack. Essentially, if I carry that bible around with me, the idea is that I should be able to handle just about anything. I often have trouble if I don't have that bible. I have three or four other bibles at home - and yet every single time I come home for the weekend, I feel it necessary to tote my bible along with me.

I was thinking about this the other day as one of my classes was discussing privileges in the world that Christians do or don't have. Some of the views from my classmates made it clear that they see Christians either as perfect, or much closer to it than them - causing us to be the 'privileged' group in the debate. Whether or not we're privileged isn't really the point of this, or really my responsibility to decide, but it did make me wonder how I come across to those I come into contact with - regardless of their religion, relationship to me, etc.? Do I let Jesus toss me in his backpack in the morning willingly, or do I stray away because I'm weary of the sheer possibility of highlights and eraser marks from His work?