There are no words to describe the depth of sadness I felt in reaction to the story of Tyler Clementi's suicide today. Cyberbullied to death by two teens from where I used to live in New Jersey, Tyler is believed to have taken his own life by jumping from the George Washington Bridge. Here is what I'd like to say to Tyler, post-mortem:
Dear Tyler,
When I attended graduate school, I drove to and from Princeton, New Jersey to Columbia's campus in New York City at least a few times each week, taking the New Jersey turnpike across the glorious George Washington Bridge. I drove that bridge so many times, enjoying the sight of the beautiful City both coming and going. I also drove past your campus, Rutgers, each time. I'm sorry that I wasn't driving today, Tyler, and that I wasn't there to extend my hand to you. I wish I could rewind time, or fast forward, and be there, because Tyler, I know so many kids just like you: kids who are tortured for being gay. As I cry tonight, I just keep thinking: please let them find him alive. Maybe he just needed a break. Maybe he lost his wallet on the GWB as he walked across it, choosing to loose himself in NYC as he picks up the pieces of his now-miserable life. Maybe, Tyler, but probably not -- I hear that an unidentified male body has washed up downriver, and I want to think: let it be someone else. Somehow, that's no consolation, either.
The kids who cyberbullied you to death, Dharun Ravi and Molly Wei, are from my neck of the woods in New Jersey. I wish I'd known them. I wish I'd had a chance to find out who they were as people -- wish I'd had a chance to impact them in a positive way. I wish I'd had a chance to talk with them about homophobia, about accepting those who are different from them. I wish I could've explained to them that they don't have to agree, but they need to mind their own business. Because, at the end of the day, Tyler, what on earth possessed your roommate, Dharun, to secretly videotape your private sexual encounter? What convinced Molly to go along with it -- and what made them think that it was alright to publicly embarrass you on YouTube?
Sadly, I know the answers: there are no limits anymore. Kids hide behind the internet like it's a brick wall. If they're not reaching out and punching you in the face, how can they be hurting you? Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me ... right?
I can just picture Dharun's and Molly's families right now, rallying behind their kids. Trying to find a way to prevent them from being kicked out of Rutgers. Meeting with lawyers to figure out how to mitigate the damage. Trying to keep their kids out of jail while your parents are hoping to recover your body for a proper burial.
I have a message for their parents: your kids are murderers. MURDERERS. They are as guilty in your death, Tyler, as if they'd put a gun to your head and pulled the trigger. They had no right to videotape you. They had no right to broadcast your liaison. They had no sense of right from wrong. Where I come from, we'd say they weren't "raised right." Yes, Tyler, I'm a mom, and I still hold their parents accountable, even though, legally, these kids were adults. For if these kids had known boundaries, and limits, and morals, and common decency, they would not have crossed that line. And you would not have jumped.
There are no words, Tyler, for how sorry I am. I'm raising two kids, 5 and 10, and spend too much time thinking: which of their friends would do something like this to them? Who's going to be the one to start hating on my kid on Facebook? Who'll post unflattering pictures of them? Tell tales of exploits they never had just to gain popularity? I already know who some of them are, Tyler, and my daughter is only 10. We all know who they are, and we do so little to stop it. We decide to avoid conflict, lest our child should be embarrassed, and, because of that, the kids who cyberbully just grow stronger. Our school systems aren't accountable, neither are the police, and, of course, no one governs the internet. It's a free-for-all, and some people are going to win while others lose. That's life, some parents will say. I point to your case and say no, actually, that's death.
I'm just so sorry, Tyler, sorry that it's not 2004 when I was driving across that bridge.
I'm sorry that we live in a world where kids think that voyeurism is okay, and that there is no privacy, and that "anything goes" on YouTube. I'm sorry that there is no such thing as common decency anymore.
I'm sorry that I haven't done enough in my own community to fight cyberbullying, to fight homophobia, and to help steer teens down a path of goodness. I've done some things, but I can do more; and I will. I owe you that much because it takes a village to raise kids right, it takes a village to steer them into good choices, and, when all else fails, it takes a village to catch the ones who fall.
I'm sorry no one caught Dharun and Molly before it was too late.
And I'm sorry that no one was there to catch you.
I'm sorry that we live in a world that couldn't accept you as you are.
I'm sorry that you thought your only alternative was to jump.
I'm sorry, Tyler, I'm sorry.
Signed,
a Mom
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