I came home late last night, and as part of my evening ritual, I took a look at my Facebook feed. It was chock-a-block full of posts made by friends and family of the many "March of our Lives" events all over the country. I was not able to attend myself but I was overwhelmed with how much this event meant to people, young and old, and how so many people are striving for a change that so clearly needs to happen.
But that wasn't all that was on my Facebook feed.
For those with kids, especially high schoolers, the end of March is a busy time. It tends to be when non-athletic extracurriculars have their end of the year events and competitions. So in addition to photos from marches across the country, my feed was full of young people dancing, singing, acting and playing the cello. Some of them were just having fun, and others were winning prestigious awards. I scrolled by so many pictures of smiling kids, and extremely proud parents.
I have to admit that when I first saw the non-march photos, I was kind of taken aback. The first thought to run through my head was that everyone (no matter what their political stance) should have been at a march, that it was far more important to make a stand than to dance, sing, act or even play the cello. Mind you, I hadn't been at the march myself because I was helping adjudicate a student event.
I am a 50 year old woman, almost 51. I was born in 1967. My entire childhood took place during the Cold War. We had drills in elementary school where we hid under desks in case the U.S.S.R. decided to send a nuclear bomb our way. I was not a dumb kid and realized that hiding under a desk wasn't going to help me much in the event of a nuclear war. I understood from the age of 7 or 8 that if a bomb did indeed find its way to my neck of the woods that everyone and everything I knew would be instantly obliterated. And that gave me some weird comfort. I would probably die but so would everyone else I knew, so somehow it didn't seem as scary. Maybe that was just me, I was a pretty weird kid.
My children were born at the end of the last century, actually the end of the last millennium, and their childhood experience has been completely different. They have never known a world without school shootings and terrorism. I honestly can't imagine what that must have felt like growing up.
I do know that when I, as an adult, go to the movie theater I check for where the closest exits are and I mentally make an escape plan in my head. I never did that as a child. Ever. There was no need.
Children in school today have drills in case an active shooter enters the building. There are code words that all school personnel and students understand and the kids are instructed what to do in multiple threatening scenarios. Students today are well aware of all the exits in every single one of their classrooms and where they can hide so they won't be in the line of fire of a shooter. When I was a child, I took comfort knowing that if the Soviets dropped a bomb we would all die together. These kids don't have that "comfort". If a shooter enters a building, they might die, or maybe they will watch a friend or teacher die, and they would have to live with that vision for the rest of their lives.
As an adult, when I go to the movie theater, I check for exits. These kids do so much more than that. "Checking for exits" is their entire day, their entire life.
When they go to an event like the aforementioned dances, concerts, theater events, or sporting competitions, they have their guard up. They are aware that no event, no space is off limits from potential tragedy. Nowhere is sacred.
There are so many adults who don't seem to understand why these students are so upset, why they are screaming at the top of their lungs for things to change. As adults, especially those of us over the age of 35, we have just not experienced their reality and we need to listen.
Last night, at first glance of my Facebook feed I saw two categories of photos and they seemed mutually exclusive. On the one hand there were groups of students, parents, and concerned citizens marching for a safer world. While in nearby venues, students were pursuing their dreams and reaching for the stars. The photos from the latter seemed pretty self-indulgent, and almost in poor taste to me at first.
But then, suddenly, Duh!
I understood that they weren't mutually exclusive at all. All these kids are playing for the same team, going after the same goal. They just want what we took for granted our entire childhoods (minus the nuclear bombs of course). They want a sense of safety and security that they have never known in their entire lifetime.
Every single kid has the right to stand on a stage, or on a football field, or even just sit in a class and only have to think and worry about what stars they are shooting for, without having to worry that they might be on the receiving end ............of somebody else's shot.
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