I had read numerous books about it, watched television shows, and movies where kids in high school lost a classmate. I never thought I would know the feeling myself, and I don't think most kids expect to. At this time last year, the kids of William Chrisman faced a rude awakening and loss of invincibility when we gained a lifelong player, cheering on our bench - Mason Atagi.
Had we known March 15th would come and bring the tragedy it did, perhaps we would've all fought over time with him. We would've run by him during track warm ups, talked to him a bit more in passing-time or texted him a little later into the night, knowing our time with him was short. Mason was also unaware of what was to come, but I cannot imagine him doing anything other than what he did. His week was filled with school and track practice. After his long week, he was stoked to go to the farm with his family and spend the weekend on the country side, making memories with the people he cherished the most. He was the same Mason we loved, smiling, laughing and talking to his peers, just as he always had.
Bittersweet and brought on by tragedy, the unity that occurs after death is only found in that circumstance. Students put aside all things that previously separated them because their only desire is to be there for each other. The amount of sympathy found in classmates is more than ever before. Students and staff who didn't know the victim hear endless stories from those who did. When a high school classmate passes away, people who didn't know the victim show up to vigils, funerals, and other memorial services just to feel included. Strangers to Mason, they showed up to sympathize with their classmates who did know him and remember what he brought to our lives. As athletes of William Chrisman, we remembered the energy Mason brought to the football field, extremely confident he could lay anyone flat and keep them down all night long. His classmates talked about his obnoxious singing - always Bob Marley - through the hallways and in the classrooms. As his family, we talked about how proud he was to bear the name 'Atagi' and how happy he was to be the guardian over his cousins, nephews and nieces.
When a high school classmate passes away, everyone in the building becomes gentle. For a few days, students are given grace. They can go see grief counselors the school provides, talk amongst themselves or talk with teachers. Although we have the opportunity to talk, there is a silence in hallways, classrooms, and even at sports practices. In the silence lies a space in which no one knows what to say. Giving condolences to those who were close to the victim does not fix the circumstance. Celebration of the victim's life seems wrong, but, in our case, that was the most fitting way to grieve when it came to Mason: to remember the memories full of his energy.
