There were two school district-related deaths this month. One was sad and engendered feelings of nostalgia. The other was tragic and filled one with grief and a deep desire for answers.

Bill Sharpe was the secretary-treasurer of the Abbotsford School District in the 1970s and early 1980s. When I was elected to the school board in 1983 he was by then a trustee himself and was chosen as chair. For the next four years he provided able leadership to the board. Bill was a very nice man with a lovely family, and a devout Christian. From the "old school", he had set an example of frugality as secretary-treasurer that few would care to imitate--he deliberately kept his own salary low so that when he negotiated employee collective agreements he could argue that he wasn't asking for anything he wasn't prepared to live with himself. Bill died earlier this month after a short illness at the age of 71. That seems too young to die, doesn't it? While Bill was a great deal more conservative politically than myself, I remember him with fondness. He was a public servant of dedication and rock-ribbed integrity.

Last night was a very different kind of death. I have no details other than that a young Yale Secondary student committed suicide last night. I dropped into Yale as soon as I got the news this morning. The principal looked completely drained. Of course, he was talking to a student, as were virtually all of the staff. Young people were standing in small circles, their voices subdued. Many were hugging each other and crying.

I stood in the parking lot later, just looking at the school in some kind of hopeless haze. Death is always too soon, isn't it,  whether age 71 or 15. Death has no manners, no caring, no finesse. So how can it possibly be more attractive to a young man than life, than family, than friends, than prospects? How could his future seem so hopeless to him, his present so overwhelming, his past so oppressive?

Better minds than mine will have to figure this out. But it did remind me once again that schools and teachers have to minister to the whole child. To not just teach them courses, but values; not just prepare them academically and vocationally, but emotionally, even spiritually (though not in the religious sense). Teach them to assess situations and make good, strategic choices. To fend off peer pressure. To not bully others into conforming, particularly to high-risk behaviours. Teach them how to say no.

And love them, love them, love them.