A boy named David

A week ago, a 16-year-old boy named David, a student at Alamo Heights High School, committed suicide in his family's back yard.  I didn't know David.

The news reports say that he was a victim of cyber-bullying by classmates.  He didn't die from gunshots or drugs, but as a result of unbelievably vicious insults.

I don't know if David attended Cambridge Elementary or not--the elementary school at the end of my street--but it's one of the schools that feed into Alamo Heights High School.  Every morning I watch as parents walk their children to school.  I love watching them as they run or amble or glide into school on skateboards.  I like seeing them dressed up for Halloween and Fun Fair days.  I know families of some of these children, and I know how precious they are to their parents, sisters and brothers, and grandparents.  As David was to his.

Some children and teenagers, at some point, decide that others in their class don't cut it.  Maybe they are too fat, too skinny, too smart, too different, too rich, too poor, too whatever. But with the followers on Facebook and Instagram--the audience for their opinions is huge, hundreds of "followers."

I read a thread of group texts to David--a good-looking boy whom his classmates called "Monkey Face."  The comments must have been mortifying to a sixteen-year-old.  He was one of three sons and an Eagle Scout; he traveled with his family and played sports.  He was loved at home. He couldn't take the bullying of other kids any more.

Teenagers don't even know who they are yet, so the words of their peers can be inflated indicators of who they are--whether for good or bad.  We used to say, "Sticks and stones can break my bones, but your words can't hurt me."  Not true--then or now.