DAISY BOLIN
TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN
April, 2017
When you look at someone’s hand, you can’t see their fingerprint.
Each groove is a path, both on your finger and in your life – complex, individual, discrete. Every laugh, breath, emotion, struggle and accomplishment makes up your life – your fingerprint.
Just as you can’t see a person’s fingerprint when you look at their hand, you can’t see a person’s story when you look at them. That is why it is vital to be genuine – you never know whose day, or possibly life, you may turn around.
Every year 44,193 people die by suicide, according to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. No matter the statistic, each time it occurs, communities are rocked, and survivors and loved ones are left grasping for answers that most times, we will never know. Because suicide is something we can never fully understand.
We as people have to push through the layer of hesitation and stigma to support those who are suffering and educate others who may help those who are suicidal.
For the loved ones left in the wake of a suicide, the act of taking one’s life can seem selfish. But Melissa Wiles, a school counselor at Trailridge, explains that suicidal people act out of despair. They truly believe that the world would be a better place without their lives, and clouded by those emotions, they are unable to understand the implications of their own death. Although that is difficult to comprehend, we must learn to cope.
Something easily forgotten for those mourning is that despite living in such an “instant” world, healing takes time. Hurting may never entirely go away, but learning to cope and heal is like a muscle that will only get stronger. For those who have felt the trembling effect of loss by suicide, know that there is no “right” way to heal.
Because the process is personal, there is no one solution. According to Wiles, coping mechanisms are not only personal but are ever-changing. One way will not work forever. We must exercise a multitude of methods, whether this be therapy, an art class or journaling. With that, as far as helping others, we must do what we can – be authentic.
Start with a smile to your classmate in the hallway. Ask how your lab partner’s morning went. Laugh at your teacher’s joke. Converse with those around you. Because acknowledgement is where healing begins, for anyone either suffering from depression or coping with a loss.
When a person shows signs of depression — their mood changes, they give things away, they lack concentration, they experience significant weight loss or gain — offer a time to talk rather than the general statement of “I’m here if you need me.”
Honest smiles and sincere inquiries may not heal deep internal wounds, but they become a strong influence in the way people begin to cope with tragedies. This is how burdens are lifted, and piece by piece, we heal.
The power in kindness becomes contagious. When you feel it, you spread it. Kindness becomes part of each path, each groove, at the tips of your fingers and the basis of your life. That’s why offering a hand is so powerful — it’s offering every journey you have faced to another person who may need it.
WHAT IT TOOK...
A fifteen-year-old boy, and friend of my brother, completed suicide while I was across the street babysitting. At seeing his mother fall to her driveway and hearing cries of neighbors and friends for days and weeks following, I felt it was necessary I write a letter to those coping with loss by suicide. In order to do this both compassionately and effectively, I had to speak with multiple psychologists, therapists, previously suicidal teens and most importantly experts on the language to use when writing about suicide. I ran words and parts of phrases by numerous students who were previously suicidal to ensure I was writing sensitively using words like "completed" rather than "committed."
This story about SMEast father, Jeff, who was dying of cancer and the impact he had on everyone around him, especially his son, required nights until 3 a.m. of ethical consulting. Everything from the language and content to punctuation were thoroughly sifted through to be sure that the story would be as compassionate and impactful as possible. Because the father died just before we sent the paper in to be printed, I quickly re-wrote many parts, changing the ending and altering the story to past tense. We avoided the use of words like "regret" and "hopeless" throughout the interview and throughout the duration of the story. After interviewing the group I decided the story wouldn't be about cancer and my partner agreed. We chose not to reach out to the family for further interviewing out of respect for their last few days with Jeff. After he passed away, I attended the funeral and delivered flowers with a letter to their home along with 12 extra copies Jeff's son requested.
FLU IS HERE
February, 2018
In covering the flu I researched its impact city-wide, state-wide and nation-wide. In order to access specific numbers of students absent due to illness from just my school, I had to contact numerous district health officials and county health officials to explain privacy laws. The Shawnee Mission health district coordinator was hesitant to release information about the number of schools that reached 10 percent absenteeism for reputation reasons, however, I pushed for the information upon learning that the information should be public. I was unable to know the number of students ill with the flu specifically, however, I had permission to speak with attendance about total absentees. The attendance workers and nurses were hesitant to give up any information, so, to get them to work with me I sent approval from the district health coordinator. Because the process of receiving absentee numbers was long, most districts didn't return my emails or calls about their own schools.