At Experience Camps, one of the things campers tell us they love most about our camp is that they can just relax. They know at camp they are not the “weird one’ whose family died; everyone at camp has been through some version of that. School? That’s a different story; that’s a place where most grieving kids have to navigate who they tell about a death, how they tell it, and how much they do or don’t want to talk about. This month we invited the teens from our Youth Advisory Board to share more about their school experiences.
[If you missed part 1 of the series, visit here.]
Sarafina, age 16
A person who has been super influential in my grief at school is our mental health counselor. I was first introduced to him for my club. I’m trying to bring therapy dogs to school, and he is a big supporter of it and still trying to help us get to that goal. During one of our meetings, I introduced him to Grief Sucks, and since he works with a lot of grieving teens, he was very moved and impressed with it and glad I was able to introduce it to him. I believed he showed it to some of his kids and even told me he wanted to show it to the district to try to make it more known.
Grief can be hard to manage when you feel alone and it is especially hard to share with another student or staff with what you are going through. So, with him saying that and him also being very interested in my goal of being therapy dogs, it really helped build my trust and knowing I have someone I can talk to my grief about at school is relieving.
Javier, age 15
For me, grief at school has been a twisting and winding road. Sometimes I don’t even think about it, and I am cruising through school normally. Other times, grief hits me in waves, I may be sitting in history class when suddenly something reminds me of my dad and I need to take a moment to relax.
The time grief has hit me the hardest at school was at my 8th grade graduation last spring. It just felt weird to me that my dad wasn’t there for one of my biggest accomplishments, and as I was walking across the stage I could feel some sadness through all the joy.
Janiyah, age 19
Growing up without my father has been one of the most challenging experiences of my life. Losing him at a young age left a void that felt impossible to fill. As I navigated school, I often felt isolated in my grief because so few of my peers could relate to what I was going through.
There were moments when Father’s Day events, talks about family, or even casual conversations about dads would hit me unexpectedly. I’d sit quietly, smiling on the outside but feeling a heaviness inside. It wasn’t just the absence of his physical presence, it was missing out on his guidance, his support, and the moments I saw my friends share with their fathers.
At school, it sometimes felt like I was living a different reality. While my friends worried about typical teenage struggles, I was wrestling with deeper questions: How do I move forward without my dad here to see my achievements? How do I manage the waves of sadness that come when milestones pass without him by my side?
Despite the loneliness, this experience taught me resilience. I learned how to be strong, even when I didn’t feel strong. I found comfort in my creativity, in music, and in writing places where I could express the things I couldn’t always say out loud. And over time, I discovered that while not everyone could understand my pain, there were still people willing to listen and support me. Grief shaped me, but it didn’t break me. If anything, it made me more empathetic and aware of the quiet battles others might be facing. As I step into this next chapter of my life, I carry my father’s love with me not as a weight, but as a source of strength and inspiration.
Alex Robinson, age 15
My name is Alex and my Dad died when I was six-years-old in a car accident. Two years later, I had a 3rd grade teacher named Mrs. Santana, who was the nicest teacher of all time. One day in class, we were learning about the circle of life and she asked me if I wanted to sit out for the lesson.
She always took the time to ask me because she remembered that my dad died even though it happened before I was in her class.This was super thoughtful and showed me that she cared for me and my grief. Although my 1st grade teacher, Mrs. Voss still gave me homework for the week I missed when my dad died. (I didn’t do it though.)
There were other times that year when Mrs. Santana checked in with me and she never did it in a way that made me stand out or so the other kids heard. Most of the time, I still took part in the class lessons, but I really appreciated that Mrs. Santana made it okay for me to “not be okay” if I wasn’t that day.
Our YAB (Youth Advisory Board) is made up of pre-teens and teens who attended Experience Camps and care deeply about helping the public understand how to better support grieving children. We give our YAB a mission each month, in which they share insights about grief and reflections from their own journey. We also use their insights and ideas to inform our programming, initiatives, and campaigns. Who better to hear from when it comes to childhood grief than young people themselves?
