I stood outside in the freezing snow and blowing winds. I listened as my friends read the names of the seventeen people who died in Parkland. I filed past my assistant principal, gave my name, and silently walked toward the gated football field. I walked out of school for victims of gun violence.

When I stood outside that day, I heard names that my friends share. I heard Alyssa. I heard Helena. I heard Peter. I heard Gina. As the wind blew harder and I got colder, I wanted to go inside to shelter myself in warmth. I thought of the families missing their children, students missing their friends, all the losses I personally have endured. I realized that the cold, the loss of a person, cannot be sheltered or thawed.

At the beginning of the movement, I wanted to rationalize not walking out of school. I am obedient by nature and never want to break the rules, but incidents like these are not rational. They are caused by systematic failure on so many levels, and my reaction to the deaths of hundreds of people over the years will never be rational either. A man shot and killed seventeen people. My gut told me to ignore my instinct to avoid punishment and to walk out of school against the wishes of my school administration.

When I first heard about the national walkout movement, I approached a faculty member with my thoughts and a potential plan for a safe, student-led walk to the gym or the gated stadium. Instead of allowing a walkout, building faculty encouraged some high school leaders to support an alternative plan for a gathering in the gym that centered around “See Something, Say Something” and a movement called “What’s Your 17?” The latter movement essentially encouraged students to perform acts of kindness instead of walking out of school over gun violence. High school principal Phil King explained the school’s motives for creating such an event, saying, “We as a school did not want political divisiveness. We don’t want our students to take a political stance during the day because the intent of the walkout was to control guns, and the community disagrees [with that position.]”

I understand and respect the school’s decision to avoid condoning any political activity, as it is a public school and its revenue comes from people with varied opinions. I even understand why the administration chose to give students detentions, and I appreciate that they lessened the punishment from the typical one they give when students leave the building. I do not understand the administrative rationale not to allow students to participate in this nationwide event because the community might disagree. Under Ohio law, schools may not prohibit students from expressing opinions merely to avoid controversy or the expression of an unpopular viewpoint. As one of the students in the meetings for planning the alternative event, I was strongly encouraged to approve the suggestions the administration provided me; they had already made it clear they would not tolerate a walkout (or a walk-to-the-gym out without the heavy anti-bullying undertones).

The anti-bullying focus of the school’s plan felt like they blamed the victims of the shootings for these tragedies. The messages those movements portray suggest to me that if other students had only been nicer to the people who eventually killed their friends, maybe those friends would still be alive. I agree that almost all high schoolers could act more nicely to each other, but the burden of the systematic failure of our authorities and existing laws falls so much more heavily on our lawmakers.  

I know that the school put lots of consideration into their decision and that they knew from the start that they would never please everyone. I can accept that. I realize that students can participate in politics outside of a school building, and I have chosen to do so. I just hope that the pushback against student leadership and suggestions that I saw in this situation does not set a precedent for future events.