M

28ABOUT CAMPUS / SEPTEMBER–OCTOBER 2004

Y FATHER passed away ve ry unexpectedly onOctober 5, 2002. Early autumn is never a great time tobe far away from a hall of firs t - year students. N eve rt h e-l e s s , my family needed me, and I needed them, so awayI went for two we e k s .C o i n c i d e n t a l l y, in the we e kprior to my father’s passingI had attended a confere n c eon re s t o r a t ive justice andp e a c e keeping circles (meth-ods being explored by col-leges and unive rsities fordealing with discipline,c o m munity standard s , s e x-ual assault, staff meetings,c o n flict re s o l u t i o n , a n dother issues). D u ring thatwe e k , I had done someh e avy personal re fle c t i o nthat perhaps helped top re p a re me for the unex-pected.

I was on autopilot forthe next two weeks asarrangements were made, ac a s ket was picked out, and praye rs we re said. As myfather was carried to his final resting place, I felt as if Iwe re watching a movie or attending someone else’sfuneral—someone not so close to me. I felt detached.

As I pre p a red to re t u rn to campus, I began to re c og n i z ethat not only was I dealing with this, but my staff wa scoming to the realization that their fearless leader mightnot be so fearless any m o re. I sent an e-mail message

f rom Pe n n s y l vania back toM i n n e s o t a , telling my re s i-dent advisers that I wo u l dnot allow my fa t h e r ’s deathto be a taboo subject, that Iwould welcome conve rs a-t i o n , and that I hoped theywould not feel aw k wa rdabout mentioning theirown fa t h e rs .We would talkabout death; t h ey couldask me questions. I mightc ry, and that would have tobe okay.

I have since re a l i z e dthat this request was as t retch for them. We aretaught in our culture tom o u rn priva t e l y, that afterthe services are ove r, so arethe tears . Our counseling

training teaches us something else: that grief is a pro c e s sthat spans ye a rs . Pa rt of the way I have decided to gri eveis to let my story and my experience serve as an exam-ple for my staff and students. I have allowed them to carefor me and check in with me, even though it feels likerole reversal.

One of my former staff members got in touch withme after I was back on campus. She shared with meabout the time she spent in front of her computer tr y-ing to find the right words of condolence to send overthe information superhighway.When we we re able to

LESSONS THROUGH GRIEF

What textbooks can’t teach

By Sara B. Rothenberger

I SENT A MESSAGE, TELLING MY

RESIDENT ADVISERS THAT I WOULD

NOT ALLOW MY FATHER’S DEATH

TO BE A TABOO SUBJECT, THAT I

WOULD WELCOME CONVERSATION,

AND THAT I HOPED THEY WOULD

NOT FEEL AWKWARD ABOUT

MENTIONING THEIR OWN FATHERS.

S a ra B. R o t h e n b e r ger is residence life coordinator at the PrattInstitute in Bro o k l y n , N. Y. She was formerly at the College ofSaint Benedict in St. Jo s e p h , M i n n . , w h e re the events in thisa rticle occurre d . Her e-mail address is sro t h e n @ p r a t t . e d u .

We love feedback. Send letters to executive editor MarciaBaxter Magolda (aboutcampus@muohio.edu), and pleasecopy her on notes to authors.

CampusCOMMONS

29ABOUT CAMPUS / SEPTEMBER–OCTOBER 2004

�

T

finally sit down tog e t h e r, she said,“All I wanted to wri t eto you was ‘That sucks,’ because that was all I was feel-i n g .”When I told her that it would have been perfectlyfine to write that, she was flo o re d . I explained, “ ‘ T h a ts u c k s ’ was exactly what I was feeling too.”We oftens e a rch too long for the right wo rds to say at the expenseof saying anything at all. O f t e n , a bere aved person wo u l drather you fumble through; he or she is fumbling, too.

As I sat with this student, I told her that I had beenseeing a counselor who was helping me to process mygri e f. Her re s p o n s e :“ You have your master’s in coun-s e l i n g , w hy do you need to see someone else?”We thenhad the obligatory conversation that consisted of com-p a ring my situation to that of a doctor with an ailment.She was dealing with the realization that the person shet u rns to for support needed to turn to someone else forsupport. She saw me as fallible and human. I explainedh ow I could be of betters e rvice to others if I tookthe time to take care ofmy s e l f. It was difficult forher to see her mentor asv u l n e r a bl e, and truth bet o l d , it was at times diffic u l tfor me to lean on others.

In our society, we arecautious about display i n ga ny sort of vulnerability,especially to those who arec o n s i d e red our charges.What we often forget isthat people are longing tofind ways to help; ways thatd o n ’t invo l ve fruit baske t s , h o u s e p l a n t s , or cassero l e s .Our family often heard , “If you need any t h i n g , p l e a s ed o n ’t hesitate to call.” Just as those wanting to help don’tk n ow how to, those who need help don’t know how orwhen they can ask.When I went back to work, I askedmy staff to help me by providing me with extrareminders that I would normally not need and to gen-erally be patient with me. My mind was still re e l i n gf rom the hurried pace of constant visitors and re s p o n d-ing to sympathy card s , so that my memory was a bitdimmer and my response rate a bit slower.

I remember my mother say i n g , “I’m fine untilsomeone is nice to me.”We we re so busy trying to ke e pgrief private that when someone finally asked a sincere,

h e a rtfelt question, t e a rs surfa c e d . I became awa re that itwas because I was able to communicate with my staffand colleagues that tears we re not something I wa n t e dor needed to avo i d . Once they understood that I wo u l drather talk and cry than not talk at all, we seemed toreach an unders t a n d i n g . It was a learning experience forall invo l ve d . I do not mean to suggest that my style ofgri eving is r ight for eve ryo n e ; eve ry person has his orher own way of coping with traumatic eve n t s . H oweve r,I am making the suggestion that it might be helpful tocommunicate your expectations and needs after a loss.

HE PAST YEAR has been much different fro ma ny other in my life. I do not have a father any m o re, bu tthis experience has led me to think of my role and myjob differently as we l l . M a ny of our students come tocollege without one or both pare n t s ; m a ny have

estranged relationships withtheir fa m i l i e s .T h e re are asm a ny different family situa-tions as there are studentson our campuses. My situa-tion has reminded me ton ever make assumptionsabout the places my stu-dents have been beforea rriving on campus. T h i sp h i l o s o p hy extends to theway I approach my studentsd u ring meetings with them,p a rticularly those invo l v i n gb e h avioral pro bl e m s . I try togain an understanding of

the road a student has traveled before coming to col-l e g e, so that I may respond to her in a more meaning-ful way, a way that will reach her. My situation serves asa constant reminder that I have no way of knowing thelife events of my students by just looking at them.W h e na p p ro p riate situations ari s e, I have shared my experi e n c eof my father’s passing with my students. Just this year, Ih ave sat with two students who have each lost a pare n t .It helps them to know that I have had a similar experi-e n c e, and it helps me to have found a way in which myfather is still active in my life.As many would assume, Iwould rather have my father back, but in his phy s i c a la b s e n c e, it is comforting to know he is somehow guid-ing me in being helpful to others.

MY SITUATION HAS REMINDED ME

TO NEVER MAKE ASSUMPTIONS

ABOUT THE PLACES MY STUDENTS

HAVE BEEN BEFORE ARRIVING

ON CAMPUS.