You Guys Saved My Life!

I will remember that Wednesday in December for a long time. That day I did not go to school. Instead, I went with six other members of my town's chapter of Samariteen and the program's adult outreach coordinator to a local high school to speak to the students about teen suicide, depression, and how to prevent these problems. This wasn't the first time I had been asked to speak on these subjects. I've spoken at other high schools, at a conference, and even at a health fair. I have been involved with this effort to prevent teenage suicide for the past year and a half — ever since one of the boys in my class died. I am now leading the Samariteen outreach program in this chapter.

Arriving at the school at 7 A.M. (so early), we took a look at the auditorium to check last- minute details. Knowing in advance that we would be speaking to about 400 students at a time, we decided it would be best to use microphones and to stand on the stage.

Just as we finished setting up, all at once the doors to the auditorium flew open and the room was flooded with 400 half-awake freshmen and sophomores. They looked psyched to be missing their classes, but not eager to hear an hour-long lecture on suicide.

This first presentation went as well as could be expected, considering by then it was 7:45 A.M.

We explained to the audience the Samariteens and their adult counterparts (Samaritans) give outreach presentations to various groups, with the hope of reminding people who may feel depressed or hopeless, that they can call our hotline in confidence 24 hours a day. The volunteers are there to listen, not judge. They are trained to listen without interfering or being judgmental. They don't trace calls or use last names. We don't talk about our callers outside the office. And, there is even a toll free number that teens can use so it won't show a charge on their family's phone bill. We further explained how we try to help people by giving them a chance to say what's bothering them. Samaritans have found that a confidential phone call with an anonymous, impartial listener does help.

After taking a break between the freshmen and sophomores, we then spoke to the juniors and seniors. As expected, the seniors looked as though they thought they ruled the world and were definitely some "serious cool stuff."

After showing our video, acting out a few corny skits, and quoting some statistics on suicide — now reported to be the second leading cause of death among teens in this country — we opened up the floor for questions. There were only a few, so we started asking our own. Had any of them heard of the Samaritans before? That received no response. Would they ever give the hotline number to a friend?

From far back in the auditorium a boy from the junior class stood up and said, "I have actually called the Samariteens. I want to thank all you guys. Instead of picking up a knife, I picked up the phone. You guys saved my life; thank you so much." When he stopped speaking the entire auditorium broke out in applause. My fellow presenters and I swallowed back tears of pride as we thanked the young man for sharing his story.

At the end of the presentation, he approached us and thanked each of us separately and shook our hands. How do you answer when someone says, "You saved my life." All I could think to say was "Thank you." The young man mumbled something about how grateful he was and went off to class, unaware of the profound effect of his words.

After speaking to the eighth-graders, fielding questions from a few reporters, and receiving welcomed words of congratulations from our boss, the day came to a close. "You saved my life" was the phrase running through my head as we left the school.

That phrase has been running in my head ever since the presentation. I have heard the words from callers, but never face to face, especially not from a peer. When I relayed the story to my mother, she actually began crying. When we told the director of our Samaritan branch, she said she was thankful she hadn't been at the presentation, for she would have also started bawling.

We had saved a life! My fellow Samariteens and I saved the life of a peer!

I have volunteered more than 200 hours assisting the lonely, depressed, and suicidal. So many evenings I have left the office feeling frustrated. So many times I have hung up the phone almost in tears, wishing I could do more — wishing I could reach out and hug a caller. Some evenings I have started for home late at night. Once because of a snowstorm I was forced to stay late, then I spent another freezing two hours getting home. Now every moment of aggravation and every tear seem worth it. I would do it all again just to hear those words, "You saved my life."

That young man doesn't know how happy he has made me. I spend hours each day doing countless and repetitive math problems. I analyze poetry until I am blue in the face (no offense), and I experiment in chemistry lab for hours. With luck I will make it into a good college, get into a good grad school, eventually get a good job, settle down, and be happy. But that Wednesday in December will always be one of the happiest days of my life. I am feeling this way not because of grades, tests, colleges, or even friends. School is important — don't get me wrong — but saving a life is amazing!

So, how do we measure success? Is money important? Is a house or car important? Everyone says that happiness is the key to success, in Rent, the Broadway play, there's a line that says to "measure your life in love." Right now I consider myself successful. My 200-hour volunteer work has paid off. A human life is certainly worth more than 200 hours. If only I knew I could save a life for every 200 hours I put in. But I now know I can think of it that way. I have decided it does not matter if the floor is covered in torn business cards at the end of a Samariteen presentation. If I hand out 1000 cards and only 999 are discarded, then I have been successful.

That is how I now measure success. Each call I take could make someone feel better, and each call could be the one that saves a life. Each business card could be the one a person considering suicide looks at before they pick up a knife. To me that is happiness, knowing that I have the potential to save lives, knowing I have done it in the past and will keep trying to do it in the future, perhaps I can help lessen someone's pain and make them smile along the way.

By Ruth, age 17
Massachusetts

HAVE YOU FELT DEPRESSED, SCARED, OR LONELY? DO YOU KNOW A FRIEND WHO YOU ARE CONCERNED MAY BE THINKING ABOUT ENDING THEIR LIFE? Many cities and towns have set-up crisis hotlines just for teens. These hotlines are not only local telephone numbers, but many are also toll free. (The Samariteen hotline is 1-877-SOS-TEEN). You can find crisis centers and/or phone numbers by checking with your friends - you never know they might surprise you and have called a hotline themselves. If you don't feel you can speak to your parents and/or guardian about your concerns, telephone books are excellent sources of reference. If you can't find a hotline in your local phone book, go to the library they will have area and national telephone books — a neighboring city or town might have a crisis center/hotline. The Web, the clergy, a school crisis counselor or guidance counselor, a close relative, or teen specific reference directories are also very good sources. Remember that you don't have to be a person who needs this type of intervention, but you could be a friend who helps a friend who does! Call today.

Reprinted from Positive Teens Magazine Volume 2 Issue 2, Mar/Apr 2000

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