Brandons' Story

Well it was time that Brandon went to school.
We moved around a bit so he ended up going to a few schools in our town.
But it was the same story everywhere,
pleasant child, friendly, smart, you name it.
His teachers always had something good to say about him.

He was always into school, found it too easy at times.
He figured he was smarter than his teachers,
there wasn't much they could challenge him with.
Sometimes that even caused him to be bored.
The way he figured it was, well my works done,
let me go play now.

A smile comes to my face as I remember him.
He was truly a gift, my most favorite person in the world.
A tear comes to my eye.... I miss him so much.
If you can hear me Brandon, mommy loves you little man.

So now it is 1996, and Brandon has suffered his first loss.
My dad passed away from a massive heart attack at 52.
The family is devastated.
Eddie 9, and Brandon 7, don't understand death.
Why can't they see their grandpa anymore ?
Why is mommy crying all the time?
Where is Heaven, and why does God need grandpa more than us?
I was so worried about them, but I knew my love for them would get them through.

So my dad left me some money, so I bought a house.
I wanted a stable home for my boys.
And it had always been my fathers dream for us to have our own home.
No more changing schools, and losing friends.
A big back yard, their own room, a place they could call their own.

Life was ok, I had my boys and Wayne and we were all very close.
Inseperable.
Family time was our favorite time.
Going to the park, playing catch, taking nature walks.
It was a great life,and now it will never be the same.

Racism found its way to Brandon at a young age.
When he was 6 years old he was beat up by a 11 yr old.
had his face smashed off the pavement, because he was black.
That just sickens me, what was even worse is that it was 2 weeks
before this kids 12th birthday, so he couldn't even be charged.

As a mom I was terrified for my son,
but hopefully this would not happen ever again.

But it started again at the school where Brandon would have to go until he graduated from public school.
Kids were picking on him for his skin color.
Calling him a nigger, pushing him around.
So Brandon had to learn quick how to defend himself.
Even some parents would call him that.
He even stated to me once that he wished he was white like me.
I tried to teach him to be proud of who he was.
That it was these people doing this that were bad, not him.

Now I know that violence is not the way to handle things,
but I could truly understand where Brandon was coming from.
The schools here have 0 tolerance for violence.
But some seem to tolerate hate crimes.
Brandon would protect himself from these people who called him names and pushed him around.
He would get in trouble, but the ones causing his pain often never did.
He tried hard to keep his interest in school, but it was wearing him down.
He hated that school at times, and wanted out so bad, but there was nowhere else I could send him.
It was the only public school in our area.
And when I bought my house I had to make the choice of public or catholic, thats just how it works here.
I chose public cause the boys had always gone to public schools.

It wasn't all the kids, Brandon had many friends.
He was very popular.
But there were the rotten kids, who I can't seem to forgive.
I had placed alot of blame on the school, for not protecting him more.
For sometimes not listening to what Brandon would say.
I was a hands on parent, always tried to work with the school when it came my boys.
But I have to ask myself, is it fair I place blame?
No note, no warning, only Brandon knows why he did it.
Losing him hurts enough, that I don't need to be filled with anger as well.
I need my energy to make it through this.
The day Brandon died he had got a detention for incomplete work.
So he had to stay after school to get it done.
When he tried to leave the school, he was jumped from behind.
Thrown down to the ground and kicked repeatedly.
Once he was able to get up, he proceeded to stand up for himself.
He gave the kid what the kid dished out.

And wouldn't you know it, isn't that precisely when a teacher walks out.
So Brandon got in trouble, and the kid who started it got sent home.
Brandon tried to explain, but they wouldn't listen.

Before he left the school his teacher and vice principal called me.
I did not like this man, he had always been mean to my son.
He told me that day that I needed to have a talk with Brandon.
That Brandon really needed to smarten up.
I quote,

"Brandon is one of the smartest and most popular kids in this school. Most kids look up to him. He needs to stop fighting and work harder at his school work, be a better role model for the other kids."

I told him it was not Brandons job as a young boy to be responsible for the other kids, and that he has no right to tell me what to say or how to raise my son.
I asked where the kid was and was told sent home. This is when I realized that Brandon was the only one in trouble. I told him that they needed to find out why, and start dealing with the problem at hand. Instaed of putting all blame toward us.

Brandon was at the school and heard everything he said to me,
but had no idea what my response was.
He had no idea that I was totally on his side.
So he assumed he was in trouble with me on top of everything else.

When Brandon got home there was company here.
So I told him we would talk later, not to worry,to do his homework.
So he went to the kitchen, and was done in about 30 minutes.
He asked me if he could have a couple of cookies, I said no because I was taking him for pizza.
He was bummed, but accepted it.
He then asked me if he could take the radio upstairs and listen to music.
I said yes and he proceeded upstairs.
Halfway up he said
"Mommy I'm sorry for being such a bad boy"
I told him
"Brandon, your not a bad boy, don't even worry buds."
He then told me he loved me and started back up the stairs.
I told him I loved him too and that we would be going to eat soon and we could talk then.

About 20 minutes passed and Wayne called me from work,
which he never does, and hasn't since.
Asked me how things were here at home, that he was in line for supper,
threw his stuff down and had to call me.
I told him it was fine and that Eddie was gone out and Brandon was in his room listening to tunes.
We talked for a few minutes then hung up.
Another 20 minutes passed and I went up to use the restroom.
While in there, I got a very strong feeling to go into Brandons room.

And there he was, hanging from his bedroom window frame.
I screamed, yelled for help to get him down.
I kept begging him...
Don't go to the light Brandon, come back to mommy.
Don't leave me baby, I love you.
Over and over,
giving him CPR until the ambulance arrived.
Almost believing the whole time that I would not lose him,
that this was not really happening.

The ambulance arrived and I was asked to leave the room,
I was hysterical and eventually picked up and carried downstairs.
I ran back up and they had the paddles on his heart.
I knew it was over,
my baby was gone from my arms forever.

They wouldn't let me be with him here or at the hospital.
I just wanted to hold him,
I didn't want to let him go.
What was life going to be without him.
it would be empty, it would be over.
Why my Brandon....WHY ? ? ?

That was October 2, 2000.
Life as I once knew it was gone.
I was to be forever changed.
I became the mother of an Angel.
The mother of the 11 yr. old suicide.

Now here I am, 2 years later,
with nothing but memories of this special boy
that entered my life and gave me so much joy.

Memories of a handsome little man,
with big brown eyes that could melt your heart.
A smile that could light up anyroom.
A boy who always made me proud.
That worked from the age of 9 until his untimely death.
That had his own bank account,
and loved to shop for his family.
A boy who was popular with the girls,
but always made me feel like I was #1.
A funny, caring, and religous little boy.
A talented song writer,
achieved cross country runner,
lover of hockey and video games,
a prangster who loved to bug his big brother,
A hard working little buddy for Wayne.
Building trucks, landscaping, delivering flyers, and home repair.
The cool guy who was the leader in all his groups,
but always still child enough to still need his snuggle time with mom.
A boy who had his own style and grace.

I miss my son,
Eddie misses his little bro,
and Wayne misses his little buddy.

We get up each and everyday, and try to carry on.
while his memory and presence here linger strong.
Still the heartache is more a part of our everyday life.
It doesn't go away, we struggle to learn to live with it.

Brandon was a very important person to us,
and to so many others.
His life should not have been filled with so much pain,
and his life should not have been taken so tragically.
I know that I am a better person for having known him.
He was always an inspiration to me and always will be.
I no longer hold his hand, but I'll always hold him in my heart.

Please, stop the racism, stop the hate.
Brandons death is an example of what this can cause.

This is the letter the school sent out the day after Brandon's death.