By: Camille Shen
In decades past, American high schools have celebrated March 14 as Pi Day, a day to laud and examine the irregularities and intricacies of the mathematical constant pi. But this year, on March 14, 2018, the festivities were forgotten as thousands of students flooded onto football fields, tracks, bleachers, parking lots, and even the front of the Capitol building to demand stricter gun control. Like the endless digits of pi, this walkout seemed to be the first step in a seemingly never-ending campaign to reduce gun violence. But the unique circumstances of the Marjory Stoneman Douglas massacre and its victims may, for the first time, bring the end of the senseless killing into sight.
America is certainly no stranger to mass shootings. Data from the Gun Violence Archive reveals there is a mass shooting – defined as four or more people shot in one incident, not including the shooter – nine out of every ten days on average. But these are just statistics; while shootings in the past have shaken the country enough to incite feeble requests for increased gun control and abundant offerings of “thoughts and prayers”, the nation ultimately moves on. Columbine. Virginia Tech. Sandy Hook. Sutherland Springs. Orlando. Las Vegas. And now, Parkland. Each time, no profound change was ever made to prevent the same tragedy from occurring again– until February 14, 2018. Where adults have failed to protect their children in the past, children are now striving to protect children. Enough is enough, they cry. But what made the Parkland shooting the point of “enough”? Why not after the countless mass shooting that came before? Why this one?
To understand a movement, start with its heart, its voice: in this case, the teenagers. The mobilization to end gun violence has been led nearly exclusively by a group of 17 year olds, including three MSD student activists, Emma Gonzalez, Cameron Kasky, and David Hogg, among others. These teens, along with thousands of others across the nation, have been born into the era of mass shootings; with massacres headlining the news seemingly every week, they are no longer fazed by such instances of senseless violence. However, they are also just old enough to make a change and perhaps even more importantly, possess the power to do so with social media at their fingertips. During the shooting, students posted on Snapchat and Twitter horrifying videos of children huddled beneath desks as shots and screams rang through the halls. Now, they post angry and impassioned calls to action, organize protests like the walkout and March For Our Lives, and engage in Twitter debates all through a few taps on the screens of their phones. Where Sandy Hook children were too young to stage protests and Columbine victims grew up in an age without extensive technology, Marjory Stoneman Douglas students are in a position to create a massive effect: enacting legislation, electing gun reformers into office, and above all, saving lives.
These teenagers benefit from two different kinds of invincibility: one typical of the coming-of-age spirit and the other from being victims of tragedy. After the shooting, students went to Twitter to unleash a storm of burns, drags, and roasts against the NRA and Republican figures such as Dana Loesch, Donald Trump, and Marco Rubio. Sarah Chadwick, a junior from Stoneman, tweeted on February 23, “We should change the names of AR-15s to “Marco Rubio” because they are so easy to buy.” But unlike Rubio’s agenda, the teen victims have been met with an outpouring of support. As such, it makes it nearly impossible for the NRA or Republicans to hurl the same attacks back at them without committing political suicide. The Republican lawmaker aide who called the survivors “crisis actors” was terminated within hours of the claim, his Twitter account deleted altogether shortly afterward.
Unfortunately, this relentless support for gun control measures seems to be unique to Parkland, a predominantly white and affluent suburban area. Where African American activists against gun violence in urban communities have been met with little funds or assistance in the past, despite having the highest gun violence rates in the country and fighting for change for decades, Parkland received an astonishing national response in a mere amount of days. But these students realize their power in white privilege. During the March for Our Lives rally in Washington D.C., a heavy emphasis was put on young activists of color to speak out about the daily violence occurring in their communities. In doing so, Americans were given a taste of the bloodshed that runs rampant not just in the mass shootings on the front page of the news, but on the streets of cities like Chicago, south Los Angeles, Washington D.C., Baltimore, and countless others.
Since the days after February 14 and the walkout a month later, many have responded to the call for gun control. A dozen companies have cut ties with the NRA, Dick’s Sporting Goods has stopped selling assault weapons, and Florida, historically pro-gun, passed a bill to ban bump stocks, raise the minimum age to purchase a gun to 21, and allow police deputies to confiscate weapons from the mentally ill. But even with these changes, it is not enough for the students of Stoneman Douglas. "Gov. Scott is trying to look like he's taking a step in the opposite of the direction of the NRA, but... it's a baby step,” Cameron Kasky, a junior, says. But there isn’t much else that can be done– in the status quo, the only way for teens to make change happen is if the adults choose to enact it. As such, students like Kasky are seeking to increase voter registration and participation among their peers once they reach the age of 18. By doing so, they hope a teen political movement may emerge in the coming years to manifest change when adults cannot be counted on to do so. Because even if the walkout, March For Our Lives, and countless other protests don’t gain government attention and gun reform won’t be passed in Congress this year, or even the next year– these politically active teens will become the future generation molding the political landscape. And maybe then will massacres like Stoneman Douglas not be forgotten, but prevented; maybe then we will be able to once again celebrate February 14 as Valentine’s Day and March 14 as Pi Day in our schools without tragedy and fear in the back of our minds– but it starts with the students.