Open letter to Susan Trigger
Amber died on the 1st September; a Tuesday.
The 5th September was a Friday, the day that she was due to return back to school and join Year 11.
I had no idea I was going to visit the school that morning. I walked out of the door and my feet just kind of took me there. I ended up in reception and I told them “I'm Amber's mum. I don't know why I’m here other than she should be.” and then I burst into tears.
I don't know what I expected. Compassion was definitely on the list. I understand why the priority was to get me out of the way also. Weeping mother of a dead student - hardly a good advertisement for the school, am I? But I don't understand why you took me into that room and talked AT me about how great a school you run, how wonderful a Head you are and how you’re all a big, happy family. I don't understand why you didn't acknowledge my daughter's name or ask me any questions about Amber. I don't understand why, even then it was about justifying the school’s position. I just know that when I walked out of there that it all felt wrong; your words, your actions. And that that frightened me.
I know that when I left you contacted various organisations and you told them of our meeting. You said I had ranted and raved and that I’d been “emotionally unstable.” I reiterate, Mrs Trigger. I cried. A great deal. As I have every day since. As I anticipate I will everyday for the remainder of my life. I believe I repeated “I don't understand” over and over again. I believe I asked for your help trying to identify any issues Amber may have had at school. Help you promised to give but that never materialised. None of those things make me unstable. And if I was? Still deserving of compassion, Mrs Trigger. Still deserving of gentleness and attempts at understanding. You owed Amber, your student, more than to dismiss her death as you did. And you owed me more, as a human being than to disregard and belittle our pain.
Because it was everything that followed, wasn't it? The meetings where we continually asked and offered information from the things we’d extracted from Amber's Facebook. When I asked why you’d released a statement saying Amber had not been bullied when her own words from her own writings said that she had. When statements had been submitted to the Inquest that alleged sustained teasing, that said she had become “worn down”. Time and time again I tried to speak with your staff. We have meeting minutes that state how desperate I was to give this information; how I said time and time again “why won't you listen?”. How naive I was, Mrs Trigger, because I actually thought you’d want to know. That it wouldn't be about concealment and reputation-guarding but understanding and prevention.
We have, as you know, spoken extensively with your Chair of Governors. It was, as expected. A student of yours died. A student whose name you consistently refuse to acknowledge. It makes it real, doesn't it? If she has a name. Well it’s Amber. Amber Nicole Jackson. Born 17th January, 2000 in Slough Hospital, Berkshire weighing in at 8lb and 15 ½ oz. To a teenage mum and a not-much-older dad who had no idea what they were doing with this pink and noisy new human being but loved her with everything they were. And continue to do so. My Amb. My funny, silly daughter. Who grew from a screaming baby to an intelligent, inquisitive little toddler, into a child who had the world at her feet, into a young adult who was truly, truly beautiful, inside and out.
A young adult who didn't want to return to your school, Susan Trigger. Who memorialised that by telling her friend days before and who jumped in front of a train rather than face it.
You seem to think that her words, the timing is irrelevant. You tried frantically to find issues at home that would detract from any wrongdoing by the school. When the material you found wasn't quite enough you exaggerated and distorted. There are things you fail to understand. Your duty is to YOUR school and YOUR students. As parents we made mistakes, of course we did. You don't think that we don't torture ourselves constantly with why she didn't come to us? But IF there were issues at home, and even after thirteen months of introspection I can't see them, even after thirteen months of sleepless nights with these thoughts racing round and round our heads; even then, it doesn't mean the school is blameless, it doesn't mean that it can't all co-exist. I believe that my daughter hated the environment you provided for her so much that she died to escape it. And the only question that matters is the only one you fail to consider: why was that?
I was so scared for Amber's friends. And I know now that's daft. Because Amber's emotions, the way she experienced the world was unique. Her friends weren't automatically in danger because they were in the same environment. But it felt like that for a while and I didn't understand why you couldn't tell us if they were being supported. We didn't want to know names, anything like that - we just wanted to know they were ok. That someone was considering the effect that the violent and premature death of a peer may have on them. Of course we know now from the subject access request that the external agency offering the support asked if they could inform us, hoping it would provide us with some comfort to know. You didn't even allow that. Why? What did it gain you for us to think that these students had no outlet for their grief?
The subject access request itself - and just for clarification, we are aware, Mrs Trigger that it did not contain all the information that it should have - was eye-opening. I will stick to the one example. A member of the public heard three of your students; three boys, discussing my daughter’s death. They said that it was natural selection; they said that she deserved to die. She was so disgusted she reported this to the school. Who promptly did nothing. The Deputy Head, Mr Panayiotou, a man I believe embodies a lot of your own lack of morality and humanity, decided, in his infinite wisdom, to not subject these boys to any form of discipline. Because they were entitled to their opinions. I wonder whether he would have been so pro-freedom of speech had it been his own family being discussed. I wonder if you would have, That they said this was not a surprise; I know the school, I know what is tolerated. But that a member of your Senior Management Team would find this acceptable sickens me.
Our kids have always been our life. Being a Mum is the only thing I ever wanted from life. I continue to try and parent a child I can’t hug, I can’t speak with and I can’t see. When someone who defined your place in the world is suddenly, irrevocably gone, nothing makes sense. I spent so much wondering whether it was our perception. That your behaviour and that of the school was actually normal. To not offer us contact with a single teacher who actually knew Amber, to not give us a single message of condolence. All the teachers at the school and not one thought to send a card, to mutter a word of kindness or a gesture? Not one? Did you tell them not to, Susan Trigger or did my daughter's life mean do little that nobody thought to offer even that? We know she was quiet, consistently overlooked because she was never in trouble, never stood out. But you and your staff owed her more. Because not all of you 'fell’ into teaching; some of you must have wanted to help children, nurture them. A child died. My child. And it was unimportant. Another day at the office. How DARE you.
And of course there's more I could say. So much more. How you threatened us with legal action. How you hide behind the banner of 'child protection' something it seems that gives you free reign to behave as you want, and say what you want - seemingly paying no regard to things like the actual truth. How you denied us access to Amber's counselling notes then quoted them in an official letter to us. How they were tampered with before handing them in to the investigation. How it was admitted to us that, had Amber died by any other means then the school response would be different. We don’t want to glorify what she did, Mrs Trigger - it was a damn stupid thing to do. We are angry with her for choosing, with whatever distorted logic she possessed that day, to do what she did. But she was ill; she must have been, And she was a child. A daft, mixed-up child influenced and shaped by your school.
I just don't understand the lack of regard for other students. I don't understand the deliberate bureaucracy used to make our interactions with you difficult. What did it gain you refusing us Amber's Duke of Edinburgh certificate? When I explained to a member of your SMT that it had been a positive experience for her, that I’d helped her; that she’d even used some if the equipment I used when I did it - what could you possibly gain by refusing us it? When we asked time and time again about Amber's locker - what did it have in it? Could we come and take pictures if she had posters or stickers there? All we got back time and time again was “the locker was not part of the official investigation”. Was it necessary to be so cruel and callous? Really? As one parent to another - why were we treated this way?
Of course I can speculate. You know we formed a friendship with another parent who’d lost a child from your school in similar circumstances. Her story and his isn't ours to tell. But I know what you said to her on the day that she had said goodbye to her son. And I know that stayed with her. I just have no words for that - it's beyond my level of comprehension - that one human being can treat another like that at the darkest time of their life.
We know some things have changed at the school. We can only hope both that they continue to change and you are supervised much more carefully. I want you to know that for so long I never blamed the school, it was your own actions that planted those seeds. And inspired the frantic search for answers that followed. I still blame myself primarily - Amber's trust in the world, her naivete and her desire to help others even at her own expense; they came from me. I taught her to be a loving, trusting person when what she needed was to learn that the world is a harsh, horrible place. That bullies exist and sometimes we can't do anything about that. That sometimes the biggest bullies are in positions of power and that their agendas are the only ones that matter. She didn't have the skills she needed to survive at your school, because I didn't teach her them. That is something that both you and I have to live with.
I hope my daughter's death stays with you. I hope that when you wake in the morning you see her face. I hope you know that you took a broken family and you broke them even further. And I hope, that when you pass your colleagues in the hallway of your school that they know that also. That they know how little you cared and know that in the end your responsibility and priority is, as you have said to us many times, towards the school's reputation and image. The welfare and emotional well-being of the students that walk your halls - those little assets who have separate and distinct names, personalities, dreams and aspirations, fears and worries - they just don’t matter at all, do they?
Amber may have been alone at the station platform that day, Mrs Trigger, but in a strange way we were all there with her. Myself, my husband. Those who bullied her. The students who made her feel, even suggested, that suicide was a way out. The students who shared their problems with her but never once asked ‘how are you, are you ok, Amber?’ Her tutor, her teachers. And you. The world got darker that day. And you and your school deserve to feel that darkness also. You deserve to be enshrouded in it, as we are. Because you let her down. You were supposed to protect my daughter. I trusted you with her. And that. I guess, means the blame is ultimately mine to shoulder.
Suzanne Jackson
Update
Following the publication of this page we were visited by two uniformed officers. A complaint was raised by the Deputy Head, Mr Panayiotou, as a result of being mentioned here. We had a frank discussion with these officers culminating in an agreement to collaborate on how to deal with the issues that have been raised by parents and pupils that have contacted us.
Thank you all for your support - please continue to share and raise awareness.