I move slowly, as if this unbearable heaviness in my heart is dragging my whole body, my entire being, down with it. I walk from lecture to my office, step by dragging step, head hanging, tired, so so tired.
Except there was no lecture today. Instead, we talked and talked. Some hesitantly, others with conviction. One clears his throat once, twice, and again. Another wipes a tear. A voice quavers, then cracks, breaking open a dam—her tears flow freely down her cheeks.
Earlier this week two of our students committed suicide, separately, on the same evening. One a first year undergraduate student, the other a graduate students. Elliott and Rajat.
We struggle to understand. Why? What? How? But there are no answers, just more questions.
We continued talking. Until we had little left to say, except how important it was to talk, and listen.
Our hearts are heavy. Unbearably heavy.