Editor’s note: Morgan King is a junior at Northview High School and a staff writer for the school news site, The Roar. Morgan wrote this reflection on the March for Our Lives at the invitation of School News Network.
Related:
- Students march for their lives: ‘If others aren’t going to do it, I think we should’
- Trip to March for Our Lives in D.C. motivates students to ‘make the change’ for safer schools and
In my government class, I learned that there are two forms of political participation. One form is conventional, which constitutes methods like voting and writing letters to congress members. Another is unconventional, meaning protesting and boycotts and walkouts and marches.
There are only so many letters I can write. As an underaged activist, my options are limited.
That is why I’ve turned to the unconventional methods and that is why I marched on March 24.
Attending this march inspired me. I saw a little girl with a sign she made herself that read “Keep me safe,” and “Never again.” I heard the survivors of mass shootings speak to the attentive crowd. I heard the passionate chants from the desperate marchers.
We were there for one reason: to stand united and fight for what we need to happen.
To march for our lives.
I lost track of how many times my eyes welled up with tears as I thought about what it was like for the people who have been affected by gun violence and what we were doing to change that.
As I marched alongside mothers holding their children’s hands; grandparents supporting their grandchildren; parents with their babies strapped to their chest; a man with the pride flag held high; teachers walking with and for their students, my heart filled with gratitude for each and every marcher there in the biting cold.
I’m proud of what I did and I want to be able to look back, when laws have been updated to provide safety, and think, “I helped make that happen. I was a part of that movement.”
I may not be old enough to vote, but my voice still matters. And even though I couldn’t fit the whole word “amendment” on my sign, I still voiced my opinion.
It is devastating that we have to stand up at a march like this for our right to live.
My grandmother called me that day in tears. She told me that it’s always the next generation that has to deal with these kinds of problems.
I’m fighting now so that the generation after me doesn’t have to.
