When Silence Hurts: A Social Worker's Perspective on Bullying and Jocelynn Rojo Carranza

I don’t usually respond to news stories publicly. As a social worker with over twenty-five years in the field, I’ve learned to sit with my emotions, to observe, and to process before speaking out. But the story of Jocelynn Rojo Carranza... an 11-year-old child who took her own life because of bullying... has moved me to break my silence.

In 1997, I was involved in creating my first anti-violence curriculum. I wasn’t the lead writer, but that experience changed the trajectory of my career. Later, I joined a program through the Anti-Defamation League addressing racism and bullying through education and counseling rather than punitive measures. Since then, I’ve written numerous programs and curricula and facilitated thousands of workshops on bullying prevention.

What many don’t see behind the statistics are the faces I’ve looked into: children terrified to go to school, schools in lockdown because a bullied child brought a weapon, believing it was their only protection. I’ve watched adults unwittingly model bullying behavior, perpetuating cycles they themselves don't recognize.

Beyond the Headlines

The loss of Jocelynn isn’t just another tragic headline. She was a child. A complete soul. A future that will never be realized. Every time I hear about another young person who couldn’t bear the weight of cruelty anymore, I see the faces of all the children I’ve worked with over the decades.

As a member of the Queens New York Crisis Response Team, I was tasked with going to schools experiencing extreme crisis. I still remember the heavy silence that fell over a school where a 12-year-old boy had hung himself after enduring relentless bullying. The collective grief was palpable... teachers questioning what they missed, students suddenly confronting mortality, parents holding their children tighter at pickup. Crisis response isn’t just about managing the immediate aftermath; it’s bearing witness to the ripple effects of tragedy that transform a community forever.

I was later hired by a religious institution in a wealthy neighborhood after a young girl took her life following brutal social media harassment. Her parents had printouts of the messages... evidence of cruelty they discovered too late. The congregation struggled to reconcile how such darkness could exist in their “good community” with “good families.” It shattered their illusion that privilege provides protection from such pain.

These experiences are only a few examples, but they represent a common issue I face daily in my work.

I remember sitting in an elementary school office with a nine-year-old boy who hadn’t spoken in three days after relentless teasing about his clothes and accent. His mother worked three jobs to keep their family afloat after immigrating. When he finally spoke, he asked me, “Why do they hate me? I didn't do anything to them.”

I’ve held space for a thirteen-year-old girl who showed me dozens of text messages telling her she was worthless, that no one would miss her if she disappeared. The messages came from classmates she once considered friends.

These are not isolated incidents. They reflect something deeper about our society.

Symptoms of a Deeper Illness

Here’s what I’ve come to understand after decades in this work: bullying is not the problem. Bullying is a symptom.

It’s a symptom of a society that values dominance over compassion, that confuses cruelty with strength, and that has forgotten how to practice true acceptance. When we tolerate bullying, from schoolyards to boardrooms to positions of power... we tear at the very fabric of our communities.

We’ve created a culture where emotional impulsivity is normalized, where attacking strangers online carries no consequence, where gossip is consumed more readily than truth. We’ve built systems that reward those who step on others to rise, rather than those who lift as they climb.

The root issues are systemic and deeply embedded in how we raise our children, in what behaviors we celebrate, and in the reactionary state of our discourse. We are not conditioning a society that is empowered from within and unconditionally loving toward others.

More On What I’ve Witnessed

I was once called to a middle school in lockdown. A twelve-year-old had brought his father’s gun to school. When I eventually spoke with him, he told me: “I wasn't going to use it. I just wanted them to be afraid of me for once instead of me being afraid of them.” The desperation in his eyes haunts me still.

In another school, I watched a teacher mock a student’s answer in front of the class, drawing laughter. Later, that same teacher expressed confusion when students treated each other similarly. “Kids these days have no respect,” she said, not recognizing her role in modeling the very behavior she condemned.

During a high school workshop, a popular student admitted, “Sometimes I don’t even dislike the kid I’m messing with. It’s just that when I do it, everyone laughs and pays attention to me. It makes me feel important.” His honesty revealed how we’ve created social currencies based on others’ humiliation.

The World Jocelynn Left Behind

Jocelynn entered a world that wasn’t prepared to protect her. A world where social media amplifies cruelty, where bystanders are trained in apathy, where even adults often lack the emotional intelligence to intervene effectively.

What’s most heartbreaking to me is knowing firsthand her story isn’t rare. Every day, children endure similar torment. Most don’t take such a final action, but they carry those wounds into adulthood, where they manifest as anxiety, depression, trust issues, and sometimes, perpetuating the very behaviors that harmed them.

Breaking the Cycle

The hard truth I’ve learned through my work is that addressing bullying alone is like treating a fever while ignoring the infection. We need systemic change... we need to go to the root.

When our children turn on the news, what do they see? Adults in positions of power hurling insults instead of discussing ideas. They watch public figures demean opponents rather than engage with different perspectives. They witness how conflicts between nations are often addressed through threats and domination rather than diplomacy and understanding. In a world flooded with "fake news" and mixed messages, is it any wonder our youth mirror these behaviors?

If adults handle life’s problems and conflicts through ridicule, dehumanization, and aggression, we’re essentially giving our children license to approach their own challenges the same way. The bullying we see in schools isn’t happening in isolation: it's a reflection of the behaviors being modeled at every level of society. Children are simply playing back what they’ve been shown works in the adult world.

My Top 5 MUSTS

1. We MUST teach emotional intelligence with the same importance as academic subjects. Point period. This is my main message in education today. Children need to understand their feelings and develop empathy for others.
2. We MUST examine how we model conflict resolution. When children see adults solve problems through domination rather than collaboration, they replicate those patterns.
3. Communities MUST recognize collective responsibility. The “not my child” response prevents honest conversation and change.
4. Our interventions MUST move beyond punishment to healing. Both the bullied and those who bully need support to break these cycles.
5. We MUST critically examine the cultural narratives that equate strength with domination and vulnerability with weakness.

A Personal Plea

I don’t usually write reactive pieces like this. I typically take time to process, to understand all angles. But in a world that desperately needs more love and action, sometimes we must speak from a place of raw emotion and deep conviction.

The loss of Jocelynn Rojo Carranza didn’t happen in a vacuum. It happened in a society we all participate in creating daily. We are all responsible! Crucify me for that statement if you wish, but I stand by the motto “how we show up, matters!” Her death isn’t just a tragedy; it's a call to examine what we’re building TOGETHER.

When I think about the hundreds of thousands of children I’ve worked with over my career, I see both tremendous pain and incredible resilience. I’ve watched bullied children grow into compassionate leaders. I’ve seen those who once bullied others transform when given the tools to understand themselves better. I’ve seen myself, a survivor of relentless bully, be a stand for transforming the education system.

This gives me hope that change is possible. But it won’t come through silence or complacency. It requires all of us to look deeply at the world we’re creating through our actions, inactions, and the values we elevate.

Every child deserves to feel safe, valued, and capable of navigating conflicts without destroying themselves or others. Jocelynn deserved that. All our children do.

The world doesn’t change through silence. It changes when voices rise above the noise. When truth speaks louder than fear. And when we refuse to be drowned out by complacency.

For Jocelynn. For every voice like hers. For the world we still have the power to create.

#visionaryinaction #whatspossible #edchat #education #inspiredconnections #mentalhealth #bullying #systemicchange #JocelynnRojoCarranza

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