Again, that poor disguise of goodness: moments of silence in schools, flowers at the entrance, empty words. Everything so correct, so by the book… but Sandra will not return.
For the umpteenth time, bullying takes another life.
And what will happen now?
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
A tear out of obligation, a phrase of condolence, and time running towards oblivion.
Bullying is not only the fault of the perpetrator. It is also the fault of those who remain silent, of those who look the other way to avoid complications, of those who prefer not to see. Of the teachers who limit themselves to following the program, who, when asked, will say with a rehearsed voice: "We didn't know anything." And maybe they did know. Or, even worse, they didn't want to know.
Meanwhile, the enemy multiplies in silence. On phones, on laptops, on those screens that have become both mirror and knife. Cyberbullying also kills, but without noise, without visible traces.
Bullying resonates more and more in our classrooms, in our workplaces, in every corner where fear disguises itself as normality. It is a silent plague that spreads through our cities and towns.
And if we don't confront it—if we continue to look the other way—it will continue to take lives. One after another. Until there is no one left who wants to look it in the face.
But moments of silence and messages of condolence are not enough. We need co-responsibility, real commitment. The educational community, families, institutions, and also students need to understand that looking the other way is another form of violence.
Only when we stop normalizing harm will we be able to, perhaps, avoid another news story like this.
