Today marks National Gun Violence Awareness Day. Of course, the headlines have been so packed with school shootings, we are painfully aware.
Again and again this year, we find ourselves mourning the senseless deaths of students whose lives were taken much too soon from gun violence. Last weekend it was Noblesville West Middle School in Indianapolis. The week before that it was Santa Fe High School.
Tragically, this has become the nation’s status quo, and students like Santa Fe’s Paige Curry aren’t even surprised that we’re willing to leave their lives in jeopardy. As we approach the end of the school year, we have already had dozens of students die from school shootings in 2018.
Amidst this tragedy, students are leading the way because adults have failed to take action to protect them time and time again. Students from Parkland, Florida have continued to raise their voices to advance the national conversation on gun violence. Their activism, especially in the immediate aftermath of experiencing such trauma, should inspire us all.
Even more inspiring has been their conscious and courageous choice to acknowledge their own privilege, whether attributable to race, class, or the quality of educational experiences they have received. In doing so, they are also lifting the voices of young African-American and Latino people in urban communities who have been calling for action on gun violence for years. And, importantly, we’re seeing diverse groups of young people working together for positive change. That’s a lesson that more adults should take to heart.
Only weeks after the tragic shooting at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School, student leaders held discussions and collaborated with young people of color in Chicago, many of whom have been dealing with the plague of gun violence all their lives. Indeed, the Parkland students have leveraged their new national platform to shine a spotlight on others who, too frequently, fight for justice in the dark.
During the National Day of Action Against Gun Violence, as students across the nation walked out of schools, organizers asked participants to wear orange to honor Hadiya Pendleton, a young Black girl who was shot and killed in Chicago.
Their leadership has inspired young people around the country—including my two daughters, who participated in walkouts at their schools in Montgomery County, Maryland.
My older daughter, a 9th grader, told me:
"I participated in the walkouts because I had been hearing about the shootings going on for a long time, and nothing was being done about them. I saw the pain and the fear in the survivors, the families of the victims, and even students at my own school, talking about where we would hide in case a shooter walked into our school. When I see so many people scared and angry that things weren’t changing, I knew it was time to show them how much change means to us.
The walkouts were extremely powerful, and I felt the passion of every single student participating. When people who are meant to protect you are not doing so, it is time to do something about it.
One of my teachers told the class that he often sees examples of our generation seeming hopeless and giving up. As soon as he said that, I raised my hand, along with many other students in the classroom. I told him that sometimes, we might seem a little hopeless, but those are in the moments when we feel the tragedies going on, and we see how much of a change is needed."
My younger daughter, a 6th grader, also participated in the walkouts, helped plan them, and co-founded a club at her middle school to fight against gun violence and for social justice: SLAY (Socially Liberal Activist Youth). When I asked her why she started this club, she passionately explained: "I was worried about myself and others, and I did not want the same thing that happened at the Parkland shooting to happen to my school or any other schools… I am hoping that America’s voters and people in office will see how big the need for [common sense gun] legislation is… this issue of stopping gun violence will not go away, and we will not stop fighting until they do something."
That means we must recognize the Black students at Marjory Stoneman Douglas who boldly spoke out about being left behind in the national media and about what it means to have more police at their school. We must lift up the young men of Chicago CRED working to make their city safer and improve their own lives. We must honor the survivors of the Pulse nightclub shooting, which targeted the LGBTQ community in Orlando. And we must support the hundreds of students in Baltimore who walked out of class to protest gun violence.
In places like Baltimore, those fighting for change know that to address gun violence, it’s critical to mobilize not just around smarter gun laws, but also around access to more school counselors for historically underserved students, better mental health services, policing reforms, and other supports that too often don’t go to the communities that need them the most.
But activists and advocates also know that we need even more fundamental systemic change. As Jamal Jones from the Baltimore Algebra Project told me, “No matter what, an opportunity is missed if we don’t talk about the fact that gun violence is a symptom of poverty.”
Addressing the grinding trauma of poverty requires that we think bigger. Invest in quality public schools. Expand access to affordable postsecondary education and provide the supports that students need to graduate. Eliminate barriers to training and employment for people who were formerly incarcerated. Fund infrastructure—including public transportation—which is essential to economic development. Ensure a living wage with access to decent healthcare and housing. And strengthen the social safety net.
In all of this, we must remember that activism is more than just a hashtag. It is a matter of life and death. It is understanding the systems and structures that have, for generations, under-served or abandoned people whose very history has been erased, controlled, and re-written.
It is, as Ferguson activist Johnetta Elzie told me, demanding that decision-makers “talk to the people affected one-on-one”—that they become proximate to everyday struggles.
As we reflect on the 50 years that have passed since the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., the question we should ask ourselves isn’t, “What would I have done then, during the Civil Rights Movement?” The question is rather, “What will I do now?” What will each of us do to end the cycle of gun violence in all of its forms? What will each of us do to take up the mantle of Dr. King’s struggle against racism and economic inequality?
As my younger daughter said to me, “The club [Socially Liberal Activist Youth] started because of a school shooting and [we] won’t stop as long as there are people getting hurt and inequality in this country.” Students who are making their voices heard understand our nation’s interconnected challenges. We owe it to them to march toward equity and justice because if we fail in cities like Baltimore, we will have failed as a nation.