Mouths of babes

Mark Doiron sat at his mother’s kitchen table and looked very much like a kid who has just lost his best friend.

Which is appropriate since that is kind of what happened.

He was one of the last of Garyn Strong’s friends to see him alive on Jan. 17, the day that started off like most others, with a day at school, and morphed into a Huck Finn afternoon, with Garyn and Mark fishing off the Golden Meadow Bridge and nobody cared if they caught anything or not, it’s just if you have the fishing itch like Garyn always did it’s what you do.

Garyn’s death has sparked a maelstrom on lower Bayou Lafourche, where parents insist that the school these boys attended, South Lafourche High, did nothing to stop bullying against Garyn, and that the school has been less than sympathetic to the classmates who mourn him.

The school people deny that anything was mishandled in Garyn’s situation but they are investigating anyhow.

The school “takes a proactive approach to bullying and harassment and takes every complaint seriously,” a statement from its officials reads. “The administration, faculty and staff go above and beyond to make sure all students feel connected and strive to assure every student that they are an integral part of our school community.”

Teachers and staff attend a Safe Schools training program to help them recognize bullying. There is a procedure on place.

Counselors meet with victims and perpetrators even if they are suspended “to discuss destructive behaviors and help them to develop healthy coping mechanisms.”

A mentoring program pairing 11th graders with incoming freshman is part of the prevention program.

Mark met with counselors because it was all too much, this death, and he said they were kind and yes, he would see them again if he feels bad.

Mark is a boy who was preparing to perform a task that is very much a man’s job. Two days after the conversation at his mother’s table, he would be bearing his friend’s coffin from a church to the cemetery. It is something friends have always done, and it is an honor indeed, this matter of pall bearing. But for Mark it was a big challenge. Anyone at the cemetery could see, however, that he and the others performed the job with magnificence.

During our conversation I asked him if, when he returned to school, what was different if anything. I was shooting for the mood at school, what people were doing, saying.

Sometimes, despite our supposed expertise, our professional selves, our ability to function within the framework of our professions, we forget how simple some things can be. We forget simple importance, the bottom-line denominator of what things really mean. When that happens it is not unusual for some of us to feel very foolish. The space of time containing Mark’s response was one of those moments. It was a stark reminder of why I was there in Galliano asking people questions and of why it was important to write about.

“Yes,” Mark said in response to my question. “I went to school and my friend wasn’t there because he was dead.”