I wish I could scroll through my TikTok page without seeing videos from survivors of school shootings. I wish I didn’t turn on the news and see the numbers piling up. I wish I could leave for school without my chest pounding with the fear that I’m going to be the next statistic.
Children shouldn’t fear for their lives just going to school. They shouldn’t sit in class and wonder what they would do if there was an active shooter right at that moment. They shouldn’t have to look both ways before exiting the bathroom for fear that there will be a gun pointed at them.
Two years ago, I wrote a story after the shooting at Michigan State University. I wrote about how there had been more mass shootings than days in the year. I wrote about how something had to change and that I didn’t want to keep living like that.
Two years later, I’m writing another story because the problem is not getting better. I am two years older and have two more years worth of fear building up inside me. I am two years older, and I understand more deeply what is happening in our society.
I fear for my life when I walk into my school.
I fear for my friends’ lives when they go to school.
I fear for my parents’ lives when they go to work.
My heart pounds when I get a notification on my phone that a news article just dropped. What if it’s telling me about another shooting? How am I supposed to stay calm after that? My head aches when I tap through my Instagram stories and see reposts that say “sending thoughts and prayers.” What in the world is that doing for anyone?
Nothing.
I wish politicians had to sit in school every day and fear for their lives so that they could feel an ounce of the pain that most students are feeling these days. I wish politicians had to go through drills pretending that there is an emergency that isn’t so unlikely anymore. I wish politicians had to make plans for what they would do if there were a school shooting in each class of the day.
Then they’d understand that what they’re doing isn’t enough.
Every morning, I hope that if there’s a shooting at my school that day, I’m in third hour so that at least I’ll be with my dad. Every morning, I have to take a deep breath and stop my hands from shaking before I start driving to school because I am so scared.
I wish that people had the guts to stand up for what they think is right. You can say all you want that change needs to happen, but if you’re not acting on it, who cares what you say?
Actions speak louder than words.
I hope that, through writing this story, somebody somewhere will realize that the problem is bigger than they thought. I wish that people would take a stand and fight for change instead of just hoping that the change happens on its own.
I wish that I could feel safe, and I hope that other people would realize that for that to happen, things need to change.
