Micah is Gone

A Facebook post was how I was informed that one of my students was gone.

When I worked as a Education Director at a drug and alcohol rehabilitation center, I met a shy young black man who was quieter than most. Micah had a tendency to be a follower and wanted people to like him. If someone had a bad idea, then Micah could be encouraged to go along with the crowd.

My mind went back to the student that I worked with one on one to support his online learning at the facility. This post is what I shared with his heartbroken Mother:

I wanted to share a memory of Micah that has stayed with me. I remember him as someone who was often quiet, but he had this subtle, playful sense of humor. Every now and then, he’d get this little smirk—like he knew he might be getting into a bit of mischief—and it was hard not to smile along with him. He worked through a lot, especially with school, and I had the chance to sit with him one-on-one at times. When something finally clicked for him, his whole face would light up. He’d smile in this way that showed how proud he was, and those moments really stuck with me. I know there were times he felt sad, but I want you to know that I also saw a different side of him—one where he was smiling, sitting outside in the sun, sharing lunch with his friends. That’s how I’ll always remember him: surrounded by light, with that quiet joy and spark that was so uniquely his. He made an impression on me, and I’m grateful I got to know him.

What we learned:

I learned that the quiet ones are never really quiet—you just have to pay closer attention. I learned that the smallest moments, the ones that feel easy to overlook, are often the ones that stay with you the longest.

I learned how much young people are shaped by the people around them, and how important it is to offer steadiness, even when you know you won’t always be there.

And maybe the hardest lesson is this: you don’t always get an ending that makes sense. Sometimes all you get is a memory—a smirk, a moment of pride, a glimpse of joy—and you have to trust that those moments mattered.

Micah reminded me that no one is just their struggles. He was more than the challenges he faced. He was light, too. And that’s how I’ll carry him forward.