At the end of November, one of our local schools suffered a tragic loss.  A student died by suicide.  Although the people investigating have not officially stated whether bullying was involved, that was the conclusion reached by many of the student’s peers.  How sad that aggression in schools has progressed to the point that when a student ends her life, that is the first thing to come to mind.

It doesn’t make any difference whether bullying was the underlying cause.  That it has become epidemic  is far more alarming.  Alongside that, there seems to be a collective feeling of being at a loss for answers—even by school staff.

One reason may be that the shape of bullying has changed.  We want to imagine that bullies are easy to spot.  He’s the biggest kid on the playground, the one who always picks on smaller kids.  No one except the ones he’s terrified into the role will befriend him.  Maybe we even want to feel sorry for him, that he comes from a dangerous or frightening family situation himself.

But that isn’t always the way it works.  Bullies may come from “good” families.  They may go to church on Sundays.  They may be well-liked by parents, teachers, and other students.  There is no way to distinguish someone who is victimizing someone else unless you witness it happening.  They’re not just stealing kids’ lunch money anymore.

So the rest of us are left to deal with the tragic aftermath of adolescent cruelty.  We wonder if our own children are safe at school, or even whether they are the ones hurting others.  Those of us who work with the youth at our churches must find ways to help the students left behind after the dust clears.

I spoke with the youth pastor at our church, asking if those of us working with the kids were going to discuss this issue as a team.  I mentioned that it was going to be tough for awhile, as we have students who knew the girl who died.  He said, “Imagine being a youth leader at a church where it’s one of your students."

I answered, “What if one day we are?”

Because this latest suicide wasn’t halfway across the country, or even in another state.  It wasn’t even in another city.  It was here, just a few miles from us.

Christians have a responsibility here.  We could sit back and wait for the schools to handle things.  We could expect that teachers will not tolerate disrespectful attitudes and behaviors in class.  We could even pray that our own kids know how much they are loved, even if they are the victims of bullying.  But that won’t solve the problem.  To be honest, I’m not sure what the solution is.  I do know that my duty to love makes it my business to help search for one.

We social justice Christians often talk about human dignity and how everyone is worthy of love and respect.  Why not start by honoring the dignity of our children and youth?