A reckoning with the expectations of grief – six years in
At the end of each teaching semester, I’ve started asking students to answer one question. If you ask me, it’s the most important question they will ever answer.
The classes are academic, technical, and business writing requirements for students of all majors. For 15 weeks, I have invited discussion on topics deeply entrenched in conflict about rights and politics and humanity. I’ve presented current, historical, and even imagined scenarios that students must critically think through – problem solve, academically debate – with credible evidence.
We have discussed the context surrounding Alabama’s Supreme Court ruling declaring that embryos fertilized through the process of in vitro fertilization (IVF) should be considered children.
We have discussed the Luigi Mangione case, which drew alarming public attention because it collided with widespread suffering tied to healthcare and institutional power. We exegeted both Mangione’s alleged act, and what it was seen to symbolize: healthcare corruption, corporate greed, the moral reality of “spreadsheet murder,” the country’s troubling Mangione fandom, and the justification of vigilantism.
In my Case Studies and Investigative Report Writing classes, students have reported on UMD’s campus chapter of Students for Justice in Palestine, their organized protests, vigils, and campaigns calling on the university to condemn Israeli policies and withdraw from companies they argued profited from the war in Gaza and the occupation of Palestinian territories.
In the aftermath of the Donald Trump/Kamala Harris election, the UMD, College Park campus experienced heightened political tension as students navigated real-world consequences of political rhetoric. In my freshman academic writing courses, students have written rhetorical analyses intertwining anecdotal introductions (personal testimonies of the impact of policy) with political-messaging analysis. In my technical writing classes, juniors and seniors have written 20-page proposals on possible pathways for undocumented students to safely pursue their education.
There were no topics untouched, no vulnerabilities unexposed.
At the heart of every event, we found one thing: camps of people emboldened, impassioned, and determined to create change for something they believed in.
Here in the final moments of the class, I have asked my students to consider all of this for the sake of answering one question. In doing so, they complete an activity.
First they have to reflect: Think about the topics we have traversed during class sessions. Think also about the things that matter most to you, and why they matter. What criteria have been used to justify the actions and behaviors of others, and of yourself?
Next they must write: Form a list, I say. Take stock of every event we have discussed in class, and every core decision you have made in your life. Include also the major goals you have set for yourself in your future. What are they? Why have you set them? (This is not something you will turn in, I say. This is private. This is yours, so don’t hold back. Let your documentation today be uninhibited by the fear of readers.)
And then I ask the question: Based on your reflections, answer this: What makes us do the things we do? What is the one thing that history shows us repeatedly fighting, struggling, persevering, risking, breaking through boundaries, and dying for? What is it? At the foundation of all historical events, and of even your own actions, there is one resounding common catalyst. What fuels our actions?
aaaaaaaaa
The Answer
There is only one answer, I say. We will spend the remainder of class following your trails of thought, narrowing things down to the one thing that fuels your life. You will leave here today knowing what that is, and you will spend the rest of your life connecting your actions back to this one thing, justifying your behaviors and decisions off the only thing that really matters. It will plague you at times. It will curse you. It will strip you down and build you up. It will force you to persevere, to grapple, to problem solve, to grow, to be humble, to accept, to forgive, and even to beg for forgiveness. What is it?
Students say things like, God. God is the reason we do the things we do. They say things like sacrifice, success, to make others proud, to make “themselves” proud, to leave a mark, to be great, to change things for the better, to enact justice, to pursue happiness, to be a legend!
But when we look back on every topic discussed over the semester, the same pattern repeats itself. People justify their actions on one thing. Nations go to war over it. Laws are written to protect it. Systems are built and broken in its name. People risk everything, sacrifice everything, endure everything, and sometimes destroy everything because of this one thing.
It does not always lead to justice. It is not always pure or wise. But it is always the engine driving our choices, the force we use to explain why something was necessary, unavoidable, expected, or demanded. Why resistance was crucial. Why submitting was required. Why leaving was the only choice. The only choice, and you know it!
What history shows us, again and again, is not that humans fight for power, or principle, or family, or God, or justice alone, but rather
We fight for what we believe is worth loving most.
Everything we do is personally justified and fueled by the things we choose to love.
aaaaaa
What have you chosen?
And so I leave my students with the only question they should be asking themselves in this life: What have you chosen to love?
Have you chosen to love something that produces good and prosperous momentum? Something that cultivates healing, acceptance, forgiveness, and joy?
Or have you chosen to love something toxic? Some flawed belief that rips families apart. Some substance that destroys your very nature. Some principle that makes you feel like war is the only answer. What have you chosen?
Does the way you act in the name of this “thing you love most” bring more humanity and healing to your situations and this world, or less?
And if you have chosen to love some unhealthy ideology, some flawed belief, some lens through which you choose to view a person for the sake of validating your own narrative – you will only cause more pain for yourself, for your children, and for this world. You will destroy moments that can never be retrieved. You will even, without realizing it, reject true love, reject family, reject the people that matter most.
What have you chosen?
aaaaaaa
The Unconscious Choices of Grief
After Jay died, I found myself thinking a lot about the things I have chosen to love. Not all have been healthy, nor even things I was conscious of, especially in my youth. I have accidentally loved approval more than acceptance. I have accidentally loved “purported image” over reality.
I have loved what I thought grieving “should” look like (resilience, a strong independent woman with no weaknesses, a picture of a family perfectly navigating the loss of a great man).
I have loved these ideas but in consequence allowed willful ignorance of the reality of this thing called grief.
My family was cracked open the day Jay died, and we have all desperately tried to pretend like there is no crevasse, no gaping wound that will not heal, no deep abyss of pain that we have no idea how to traverse. We have tried so, so hard.
This year marks 6 years he has been gone, and I think it hurts the most. My family has never been more divided, more scattered, more hurt, more in pain.
May 2026 be the year my family actually starts to heal.
About Sonney Wolfe
Sonney Wolfe is a writer, educator, mother, nona (grandma), and widow. She holds a Master of Arts in English, teaches academic and professional writing for the University of Maryland, and writes features, press releases, blog posts, and personal essays for various news and social media.
Widowed in December of 2019, she soon joined the masses in COVID lockdowns, which deepened her understanding of grief as she witnessed widespread loss, especially among students. Now, she integrates grief support in her college classrooms by addressing pandemic disruptions, community loss, and mental health challenges. Her autobiographical teaching philosophy, born from her own grief journey, provides a platform to share her experiences and support students who have also lost loved ones.
In her professional writing, she sheds light on the human experience of loss and grief, particularly for widows. She explores the complex societal shift they face, transitioning from wives to widows and often single parents. This sudden change forces widows to navigate not only grief, but also a landslide of challenges: income loss, economic strain, relocation, career shifts, altered healthcare needs, and declining mental health.
Her Blog WIM Dispatches (Woman in Motion), https://sonneywolfe.com, chronicles her personal grief journey and advocates for the needs of widows, along with her IG: @WIM_Dispatches – and Facebook page: WIM Dispatches Life After Jay.