Dr. Andy Szeto: Truth, Grief, and the Classroom - Moving Forward With Trust
- 2 days ago
- 4 min read
The Question
When I was a school leader, I dealt with more tragedies than I ever expected to face. Sudden deaths, long illnesses, neighborhood violence, staff losses, and students grieving adults at home. Each time, the details differed, but one pattern kept showing up. Students can sense when something serious has happened, and they start filling in the blanks quickly.
My students were older, and I learned early that if schools do not communicate clearly, students will fill the gaps themselves. Social media accelerates that, and rumor often beats facts. That reality shaped our response.
In a recent report from China, a teacher learned that a pupil had died from an illness, but she did not tell the class directly. She told classmates the pupil had transferred, then asked them to write farewell letters and promised to pass the letters along (Zhang, 2025). The story made me think about trust, especially in an age when students may learn the truth elsewhere.
Before I say anything else, I want to acknowledge what I do not know. I do not know the family’s wishes, local norms, or school protocols beyond what was reported. I am writing this as reflection, not a verdict.
I am also not writing this to judge the teacher. I can understand the instinct to cushion children from pain, especially when you are grieving too. She may have been balancing two responsibilities that often collide in schools: protecting children’s emotional safety and being truthful about a painful reality.
My stance is still a question, not a conclusion:
What happens to trust when adults withhold the full truth about a classmate’s death, even with compassionate intent?
Trust is the Infrastructure
Classrooms run on trust more than rules. Students follow routines because they generally believe adults are truthful, especially when life turns difficult. When one child disappears, students notice immediately.
In situations like this, I can see why an adult might choose to delay full information in the hope of reducing immediate distress. At the same time, I wonder about the long-term effect. If students later learn a different reality than the one they were given, that discovery can strain trust. Not because children want harsh details, but because children want steadiness from adults.
Rumor Moves Fast, and Context Arrives Late
Even if young children are not on social platforms, they live inside networks that are. Families talk, older siblings overhear, group chats light up, and information moves quickly. If the truth arrives through rumor, it arrives without context and without adult language that fits a child’s age.
Then a school is not only supporting grief. It is supporting grief plus confusion and a potential trust gap. In my experience, the task is not to eliminate emotion. The task is to hold emotion inside a truthful frame so students are not left alone with partial information.
A Boundary, and a Leadership Responsibility
I am not a trained grief counselor, and I am not offering step by step guidance here. From a leadership lens, a death is a community tragedy, not just a classroom moment. I would want coordinated support so one educator is not making big communication decisions alone.
Why the Farewell Letters feel both Caring and Complicated
The farewell letters are haunting because they are sincere. The teacher invited a ritual of care, which matters. My lingering question is what happens later if students learn the pupil died.
The letters may still be meaningful. They may also prompt confusion. Why did we write as if he moved away? Why did adults choose that story? That is the trust tension for me. Even well-intended choices can have downstream effects if students later learn the adults did not share the full truth.
Moving Forward, not Moving On
This is where Nora McInerny’s framing has stayed with me. She challenges the idea that we “move on” from grief and instead argues we move forward with it (McInerny, 2019). In schools, that distinction matters. The goal is not to rush students past pain or tidy reality into something easier. The goal is to help them keep going while holding what happened with honesty and support, in language they can carry. “Forward” does not mean forgetting. It means continuing with care.
I am not interested in second guessing someone who was grieving and trying to protect children. I am interested in what schools can build so grief is met with support, not improvisation. In 2026, when rumors can travel faster than facts, what systems help us communicate with care, tell the truth in age-appropriate ways, and keep trust intact?
And if these ideas resonate, check out my new book Leading Before the Title, available from The Worthy Educator Press, and my writing at drandyszeto.com.
References
McInerny, N. (2018, November). We don't "move on" from grief. We move forward with it [Video]. TED.
Zhang Z. (2025, December 22). China teacher hides pupil’s death from class, asks group to write farewell letters. South China Morning Post.
Lead Forward is an exclusive feature by Dr. Andy Szeto on The Worthy Educator. Check back regularly for new insights for aspiring leaders!
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