Anna Ross woke up early on the morning of February 20, 1998. She rose around 6:00, dressed quickly, and packed a backpack with a notebook, a pen, a bottle of Bacardi and a small shot glass. She went to the parking garage of Syracuse University’s Boland Hall, where she climbed four staircases to the top landing. There, she took several shots to bolster her courage.
Next, Ross took an elevator to the eighth floor of Boland Hall. Here, she started to write a note, but left it unfinished on the table. She went to the window of the student lounge, opened the sliding glass pane, and pushed.
The screen didn’t budge. She went to the dining area, where she found a fork and knife, and used the utensils to pry the screen from the window. Finally, a corner of the screen gave way. She peeled enough of the screen back to allow her to climb into the windowsill.
She knew her parents would mourn her death. “I thought they would get over it eventually,” she said.
Ross spent several minutes perched in the window, looking over the horizon at the school that she had grown to love and hate. She took one final look, and pushed off the edge.
She survived.
It has been ten years since Ross attempted suicide, but the issues raised by her case still plague college campuses today. To what extent should a school be responsible for a student’s mental health? At what point does the school’s practical concern of liability trump genuine care for a student’s well being?
Tanya Bowen, Director of Syracuse University’s Counseling Center, said that she has seen a surge in the number of mentally unstable students on campus in recent years. “Students are coming to school with an established history of mental illness,” Bowen said. “The numbers are staggering, both on this campus and nationwide.”
Bowen also notes that before this semester, the school hadn’t seen any suicides for several years.
“The two suicides this semester are quite an anomaly,” Bowen said. “I’m not sure what it means. Maybe, statistically, our luck had just run out.”
Ross’ luck – if you want to call it that – is part of a disturbing trend of mental illness on college campuses. According to the American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry, “Suicide is the second leading cause of death among college students…. More students die from suicide than from AIDS, cancer, heart disease, pneumonia, birth defects, influenza, and chronic lung disease combined.”
On the morning that Ross plunged eight stories and 90 feet down, her body was broken, but she was alive. The 20 year old had an incomplete spinal cord injury, a damaged lumbar region, and a broken hip, ankle, and elbow; she also suffered multiple internal injuries, and loss of bladder and sphincter control.
In the two years that Ross spent being rehabilitated, she says she thought about the circumstances that led to her fall. “I was raped my freshman year of college. From there, it was a downward spiral. I became very addicted to cocaine. I was using a lot… but that’s how I was coping with my issues,” said Ross.
She was kicked out of Syracuse in her sophomore year, but was readmitted on the condition that she take her antidepressant medication and refrain from using drugs or alcohol. One day, she told a counselor that she had slipped up.
“I smoked marijuana,” she said, “But cocaine was my drug of choice… so I thought I was doing better, to be smoking marijuana instead of snorting coke.”
Despite the Counseling Center’s strict policies on confidentiality, the Center reported Ross’ behavior to Judicial Affairs. Mary Beth Manners, the Assistant Director of Judicial Affairs at the time, told Ross that she was being expelled from the University.
“I was shocked,” Ross said. “The minute I walked out of that office, I had already decided to kill myself. “
Ross said that while she doesn’t hold the University responsible for her decision, she does believe that the school played a part in her attempted suicide.
“If I had actually gotten the care that the Counseling Center recommended, I wouldn’t have done what I did. I would be an able bodied person.”
Ross sued the University for malpractice and negligence. She did so, she said, because she wanted to make sure that the school never allowed a student to slip through the cracks ever again.
The case of Ross v. Syracuse University spent eight years climbing through the ranks of the New York State court system. It finally came to rest in April 2008, when the Supreme Court dismissed the matter altogether.
Despite the court’s decision, Ross said that she doesn’t regret the time she spent fighting her case.
“Whether they admit to having made a mistake, the school is more cautious now,” she said.
“They’re more careful when they deal with students that are mentally unstable. So it wasn’t completely in vain.”
Bowen said that the University has made strides in the way the school treats mentally unstable students. “We’ve developed a very substantive, comprehensive suicide prevention system,” she said, noting that the campus has established a “Campus Connect” program that trains faculty and staff members to recognize at risk behavior.
Bowen said that there is no foolproof way to prevent suicides on campus.
“We want to help students, but there are limits to what we can do. Ultimately, it’s up to the student to decide whether they want to follow through. We don’t have much power.”
Patrick McPeak, the current Associate Director for Judicial Affairs, declined to comment on the details of the Ross case. He said that each case is handled on an individual basis.
“We try to formulate a plan that makes sense for the student, yet protects the University community,” McPeak said.
“As a team, we try to make decisions to help the student and get them in a better place.”
The University’s efforts came too late for Anna Ross, now 31, who works as office manager at a dental clinic outside of Boston. The job doesn’t pay much, but she doesn’t need to pay rent – she still lives with her parents, in her childhood home in Winchester, Ma. She speaks with the halting tentativeness of a teenager, yet her voice bears the weariness of a much older woman. She walks with a cane.
“There are times when I feel worse physically, and that affects my mood. I start thinking about why I am the way I am,” Ross said. “The pain is a constant reminder. It brings me back to that day.”
Ross said that the pain of her physical injuries is compounded by the regret that comes with knowing that she inflicted the injuries on herself. She still takes antidepressant medication and goes to weekly therapy sessions.
“I start to think – ‘Why did I do this? I just made it worse.’ And then I think, ‘Would the pain go away if I wasn’t here?’”
She pauses. “I ask myself, ‘Why did I live?’”
Ross says she doesn’t expect for her depression to lift any time soon. “It’s a lifelong illness,” Ross says.
“You cope with it as best as you can. But a person can only handle so much at one time.”