Regarding the Death of my Friend
By Jackson M
As I entered the church with my mother, I was first struck by how tangible the atmosphere of overwhelming sorrow was. A line of boys in suits and girls in dresses snaked between the pillars outside of the sanctuary. I had only been to one funeral before, for the death of an acquaintance's mother, but I still found the amount of kids there to be abnormally large. Of course, Andy was a friend of the entire high school. It made sense that his friends would all wish to be there to see him off. I continued to walk to the back of the line when I saw a group of my friends huddled together toward the front of the line. I tried to force a smile as I waved to them. I settled in the back of the line, watching women exit the sanctuary crying. My mother laid her hand on mine and told me to be sure to breathe. I have a habit of tensing up when I'm nervous or melancholy. The line moved forward, with each person stopping to sign the guestbook. I zoned out, trying to recall the sequence of events that had led up to Andy's death.
By Archie Canyon
A response to this article by Rosalind Wiseman
1) I demand you to be the best parent you can be. Not that you drive the nicest cars or have perfectly cooked meals prepared every night. I demand that you have the courage to ask yourself and others hard questions that make you uncomfortable. I demand that you do so with unshakeable commitment to civil dialogue in every aspect of your life.