Letter to the Editor: Walkout Reflection

Letter+to+the+Editor%3A+Walkout+Reflection

Let’s all take a deep breath.

Let me start by saying I love being at a school that is so committed to social change that we, as a student body, were able to rally and march for what we believe in. So, thank you to our amazing faculty and staff, who allow us to follow our convictions and test boundaries both in and out of the classroom on a daily basis.

On Mar. 14, I observed two conflicting agendas: sometimes you have to knowingly break the rules and sometimes the only way to demonstrate your passion is through obeying the rules.

After the upper schoolers marched outside to demonstrate our beliefs, I was struck by these juxtapositions. A whole group of Archer students, our middle schoolers, had been denied the ability to march for what they believed in because of safety concerns. There was a lot of anger and frustration expressed last week. The juxtaposition in that moment got me thinking about a few things.

A lot of rules were broken. People were running, pushing and shouting — it was chaos. For me, this was an exhilarating experience. Never have I felt more empowered than when I was shouting, “Never again!” at the cars passing by. I was not, however, thinking about the middle schoolers, who were still inside the gates. Middle schoolers who felt excluded and powerless in a situation where I felt so much the opposite. 

Then something occurred to me. The importance of National Walkout Day wasn’t really about marching. It wasn’t about the numbers of people who participated either. It was about ending gun violence in schools across the country now.

For the rest of the day, I thought about that powerlessness and how I probably would have felt the same way. I tried as hard as I could to get into the shoes of my little eighth grade sister so that I could feel her frustration and, by extension, that of all the middle schoolers.

Then something occurred to me. The importance of National Walkout Day wasn’t really about marching. It wasn’t about the numbers of people who participated either. It was about ending gun violence in schools across the country now. So even though I know I would have been devastated if I had not marched, I realized that my essential belief in ending gun violence was more important than marching.

And that’s the essence of the complexity of yesterday: even though many students could not march, that did not mean they had any less passion for ending gun violence. And more importantly, marching does not replace true belief in this issue.

So I ask unto you middle schoolers, what will you do now? You did not get to march, yes, it may have been very unfair. However, not being able to march should not deter you from your goal (if that is your goal) of ending gun violence. Because that was what the march was about. It was about rallying to share our opinions, and sometimes you just can’t put your beliefs into action. Though it was inspiring to see so many of you who cared deeply enough to cry when you didn’t get the chance to shout at cars on Sunset Blvd.

I marched because so many people, kids our age and younger, didn’t get the chance to raise their own voices and never will again. I marched because I never want something like what happened in Parkland, Sandy Hook and so many other places to ever happen again. But I would have the same feelings even without the march.

So let’s carry on and figure out the future together. I would like to keep a dialogue open with anyone interested in figuring out a way for the whole school to participate next time we need to stand up for our beliefs.

-Grace Kerner ’19