This past April, someone who had a huge impact on my life died. Yes, he went to Penn. And before you ask, yes, it was a suicide. It’s been something that’s been weighing on my mind a lot in the past months. Every why, what-if and what-the-fuck has run through my head as I’ve tried to make sense of something that doesn’t make sense.
My friend became a role model for me when I was still finding myself as a freshman in college. I met him while walking on campus. His happy face stood out among the busy people on Locust Walk going to class. We talked a bit, and he told me to come join a course he was teaching on meditation. “It’ll be life-changing,” he said. I was skeptical.
He was right though. The course was awesome, in a new-agey sort of way. It helped me let go of the pessimistic thoughts that had bothered me since I was a kid (although my sarcasm seems here to stay). I later got involved with other groups my friend helped with on campus: Active Minds, the Consciousness Club, the Penn Center for Mindfulness, as well as his frequent potlucks. He was definitely the kind of person who liked to strike up conversations with total strangers in coffee shops or on the street, and a lot of these people came to these events. In my eyes at least, he seemed like a total free spirit, a tad compulsive but the genuine article. If you asked me if I knew anyone who was actually happy in life, I would have named him right off the bat.
That’s why it came as such a blow when I heard about his suicide. Because he, who helped me and so many others, couldn’t help himself. And because I and everyone but those closest to him had no idea about the struggles he had. And because I had the sickening feeling that I should have gotten to know him enough to help him. I was hospitalized for attempted suicide at age fourteen, so I’ve been there, and I understand what it’s like to be there. I feel like I could have done something, but I just didn’t know.
What I’ve learned from this, and the mental health crisis at Penn, is that we are all human. We are so much more complex than the adjectives we describe ourselves with on our resumes or the fun personas we show at parties. Everyone, including the people who seem to be the most put-together, face hardships. In some ways knowing this is empowering, because it means that the things we do for each another really can help.
My friend called me a few weeks before he died. He told me he was moving away soon, and that he felt he had done everything that he needed to do in Philadelphia. In many ways I think he was right. He was an incredible force of good at Penn and he touched many lives. I still meditate, and I’m involved with the communities at Penn he helped create. I hope to carry on his legacy in my own decision to value life and to help others to do the same. Peace, Justin. I will miss you.
