I stood in the line at Chick-Fil-A trying to process what I had just heard as the color drained from my face. I had just run into a friend who broke the news to me. Sean Weinstein, one of my freshmen from my dorm, had passed away the night before in a car accident. Sean had lived on the second floor with me in Lechner. As a Sophomore Advisor (SA), a live-in peer mentor in the Honors Living Learning Community, I had adopted him as a friend and mentee. I had known that Sean had not come back from Thanksgiving break after leaving Houston the previous afternoon. I was so worried that I stayed up until four that morning waiting for him, but I had not let my mind wander to this outcome. I began to realize Sean was not coming back. Overwhelmed, the only things in my mind were my first memories of helping him move in, showing him his classes, and introducing him to HoboFo, the loving nickname of the second floor community. As my thoughts wandered to HoboFo, I remembered the freshmen on my floor. Did they know what had happened? How were they finding out? I realized that as a friend and mentor, I was one of the best people to let my friends know.

 

Still in shock, I confirmed the news, just to find this was not a horrible nightmare. My roommate, who is also an SA, agreed it was best for friends to break the news gently, so we began informing the freshmen. We also told the other SAs, who were “parents” of HoboFo freshmen, about the situation to prepare them to be emotional supports for Sean’s closest friends. Everything was happening at once and I didn’t have a chance to sort out my own feelings. All of my closest friends were in pain. The people who I normally relied on in hard times were all suffering with me. I had to put aside my emotions to support my friends through their grief and keep the community together.

 

Meanwhile, the Honors community was quick to respond with love and support. With their help, the other second floor SAs and I organized a remembrance ceremony for that night where everyone could share their stories of Sean. Later that week, we held a more solemn candle-light vigil as we said goodbye to our friend. We also collected letters from everyone with their memories of Sean to give to his family, and arranged for a group of us to safely get to Houston to attend his funeral. My roommate and I were also in unique positions as we were highly involved in the community, and were already close friends and confidants of many of the HoboFo freshmen. We were not only close to Sean, but also the freshmen grieving his loss. We opened our room to the freshmen for the rest of the semester if they needed to cry, rant, sleep, or try to study for finals. It was a sacrifice of privacy and gave us little time to process, but I was glad to be there to listen to them and offer any support I could.

 

Sean’s death last semester was one of the hardest times of my life, as I tried to keep functioning while my world was crashing around me. While I was grieving his loss, I was also dealing with a recent death in my family and studying for finals. In the midst of my pain, I knew that I was needed to be a support for my friends, and we were all making sacrifices for each other. Through the sadness, I was inspired by the resilience of the Honors community and the Aggie family. The University Honors Program and Residence Life responded quickly and provided the resources we needed to comfort the HoboFo freshmen and Sean’s family. The other SAs and my friends from church gave me the love and prayers I needed. The response of the Aggie family reminded me about the importance of a loving, supporting community. I wouldn’t have been able survive last semester alone, and going through this tragedy taught me that I didn’t have to. By relying on my fellow Aggies, this experience revealed my inner strength as a leader while managing my emotions, responding to a crisis, and serving my freshmen. 

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