Defining Moments, A Letter to my Late Brother
By: Kortney Peagram
Tags: Kindness, Gun Violence, Mourning, Bullying, Self Love

The following letter is dedicated to my brother. I lost him 9 years ago to gun violence. Every year on this day, I write to him. Today I share my letter with you.

Dear Jay,

9 years ago on this day, a series of inexplicable events took place that lead you to being faced with a gun. The gun went off and sadly we could not turn around the chain of events that had lead up to this point, we lost you that evening. It’s a an everlasting moment in our timeline. An inconceivable event that will forever be in our memories. The moment can often be seen as a pivot point to the people closest to you. It is a defining moment that creates such a powerful shift that you know deep in your soul that nothing will ever be the same.

From your death came so much grief and loss. You were only 22 years old. Barely adulting and trying to find your way in this world. The light that you brought to this world gave people joy, hope, and comfort. You had the ability to diffuse conflict with humor, to make people feel seen and heard, and to give so much of yourself to help others. As I write these words, I make you seem angelic or heroic which you were, but you also were like most young adults your age. You loved to chill or go out with your friends, play extensive hours of video games, take college classes and work part-time. You were undecided about your career, you were exploring what you wanted to do with your life. You were just like any other person in their early twenties.

I feel like today, I want to remember what made you just like everyone else. What made you human! You might be wondering why I feel the need to normalize your life in a day that we want to celebrate you. It is plain and simple.

In this world today, there is so much pain, anxiety, and violence that we feel hopeless and often forget that ordinary actions can lead to extraordinary moments. We feel stuck or afraid to do anything as it is bigger than our existence. It is a flawed way of thinking. It is letting this perceived fear take control of our lives. All it really takes is one person to do something small to start a chain of events that can drive change larger than our wildest expectations. The problem is often we don’t see the change or feel the difference, and today I want to explore how your ordinary life is extraordinary.

A core memory I have of us is when our parents went out of town for a long weekend. You must have been starting middle school. You were acting kind of down. I was back from college to babysit you and our brother. You came to me Saturday morning. You hesitantly shared with me that you wanted to cut your hair. I was shocked, as it (at the time) seemed like it was part of your identity. You had red curly semi-long hair. It was so cute on you and everyone loved your hair (so I thought). You burst into tears and you begged me to cut your hair. You shared that you were being bullied at school. Kids were calling you Ronald McDonald. They were teasing, laughing, and taunting you. Your friends started to exclude you. You felt defeated. You had mentioned mom said that she would never cut your hair. You were too embarrassed to tell her about the bullying and teasing. My heart sank. I had been there, I was bullied and a bully in middle school. I remember how it felt to be an outcast, to be excluded, and to be ridiculed. I called the local hair salon, and we made an appointment that day.

As you were sitting on the salon chair and I watched your beautiful locks fall to the ground, we had a real heart-to-heart that day. We talked about standing up for ourselves, not being defined by what people think, and being comfortable in our own skin. We talked about what to say and how you could use humor to defuse the bullying. I remember the hairstylist really being into the conversation. It was a powerful moment. You were so brave getting your first grown-up hair cut and letting go of a big part that define you (those red curly locks). I knew in my heart that you needed that change to be confident and stand up to the bullies. It was a moment in time, a pivot point I like to call, that gave me a glimpse of who I could be. I remember your face when you saw your new look, you lite up and had the biggest confident smile on your face. I felt as though you walked into the salon as a boy and walked out of there like a man. I am airing the dramatic side to replay the shift I saw in you that day. That is the moment that I cherish when someone sees the power in themselves.

The coolest thing is after that day you never were bullied again. It stopped. I really don’t think it was the haircut, I think it was you believing in yourself. The hair cut was the boost you needed, but that moment you understood that you had the power to be who you wanted to be was the defining moment. From that day on, you always looked out for kids being bullied. You stepped up and stepped in to help your peers. You even used your popularity to help people versus tearing them down. It was a small moment in time that created a monumental shift in your life. You used your wit, your humor, and your charisma to make people feel loved and accepted. It would have been so different to flip that switch and roast people, belittle them, and use your humor to humiliate them. For that Jay, I am proud of you.

At your funeral, countless people came up to us to share stories of how you stood up for them or help them. Every day in your ordinary life, you took the time to create extraordinary moments that impacts so many people. Those people are now doing extraordinary things. It is the small changes the small gestures that create the most impact.

I took that story and carried it with me. I felt empowered to help you out. I felt connected and purposeful. By helping others we are also helping ourselves. All it takes is someone to listen, to be there, to sit with you, and you don’t feel so alone. Today, I sit with you and reminisce of our moments, the moments that define our relationship.

I pray that your story impacts even more people. I hope that your life lives on to teach people about kindness and love. I pursue my mission to eradicate bullying and violence in schools so that we put the guns down, we cease fire.

I miss you every day Jay, your part of my story, part of my soul, and forever my brother.

Love you,

Koko

The letter above is a dedication to the wonderful ordinary life of my brother. He made small little gestures of kindness that made other people’s life extraordinary. I dedicate my life as a Bully Teacher to him. I am the owner and dreamer of Bulldog Solution. We run bullying and anti-violence programs in schools. We specialize in middle school assemblies and programs. We also published our first book, Dear Bully: The Untold Stories of Bullying. The book is a compilation of bullying stories from the victims and bullies. We share about their lives and how to help or youth intervene and stop bullying. We talk about tips and strategies to help parents. It is a wonderful journey inside the life of a Bully Teacher. I dedicated the book to my brother, Jason Peagram. His loss gave me my purpose. I am grateful for my work, I am grateful for the path I have taken. I want to keep his legacy alive, I want his story to be known.

Until Next Time…

Kortney Peagram, Ph.D.

Kortney@bulldogsolution.com