Never Forgotten

She had a unique name. Just browsing the class list I knew it wouldn’t be hard to remember this student, and what a challenge it is for us teachers to recall all our students’ names.

This was a short summer class attended by students of mixed courses. I try my best to remember all my students but it’s an almost impossible task, what with big classes and such little time to spend. But this student made an impression on me from day one. She was extremely attentive, participative, and displayed an eagerness to learn — all of which never go unappreciated in any of my classes. I also recall asking her to come up front and write her name on the board, under my regular “Hats off to” corner, for scoring high in an exercise. It helped that she had a unique first name, but I would have remembered her for her anyway.

Last year, in my research seminar class, one of the presenters was making her case for a qualitative approach and cited this author in her PowerPoint slide. I instantly caught that this certain author shared the same unique name of my former student. And then I suddenly remembered her and thought how nice it would be to run into her in campus. I would say hello followed by her name, if only to show that I still remembered her. And then the uncanniest thing happened right after my class. There was a knock on my office door and when I opened it — lo and behold — my former student was standing outside, as though I’d willed her with my thoughts to make an appearance. 

She and a friend wanted to record a video message from me, for another friend’s birthday. I was amazed at the coincidence; too shocked, in fact, that I didn’t even get the chance to say hello (followed by her name).

Last night, word got out about a Jane Dough found dead within campus vicinity. The online report even published a photo of the body, which was unsettling and unnecessary. The news would definitely hit you, especially if you’re from around here. But I had this inexplicably bad feeling about this incident, that I maybe knew the person, either personally or by name. Or maybe that’s just a normal, instantaneous reaction when you’ve learned about a gruesome event. You don’t want the casualties to be people you know/know of.

This afternoon, someone told me the victim’s last name but it didn’t ring any bells. But then my informant said she was in my class two years ago. So I quickly rifled through my old student information sheets to identify the person. My mouth dropped when my fingers landed on the person’s file. It was former student, the one with the unique name. I may have forgotten her last name, but never her… never her.

May this wonderful person find peace on the other side. And may justice for this heinous crime be served here.