We are the Dead. We are the Living.

From first grade to high school students, the barrel of a gun and the bullets that follow have found no mercy upon the community of youth that we live among. Each day we sit in a classroom, go to the movies or attend a concert, we are haunted with the thought of whose face will be printed next in the headlines. Who next will rest in in the darkness of a black body bag? Remembering where the nearest exit is or what desk will provide the best protection is a natural instinct many of us have developed to ensure the one thing we all desire: a chance to survive.

We are afraid.
We are tired.
We are angry
We are children.

Our generation breathes and bleeds together. A bullet in one of us is a bullet in all. It’s hard being a kid in this country when playtime is outrunning a shooter and the toy they’re handling is an AR-15.

Enough is enough. We demand for action. Better education programs that provide support for students or guidance counselors that allow us to be emotionally vulnerable need to be readily accessible. Lawmakers need to work, defend and protect the youth that they serve. The future they have worked to build us cannot be lived if those expecting to inherit it reside in the ground. Our lives are worth more than a document created over 200 years ago, and the legislation passed should work to reaffirm this.

The solutions are endless. But even if the death of a first grader doesn’t call for this change to happen, how many more shootings will happen until this limit is exceeded? How many more of us must be added to the pile? These questions call for answers, and we will wait until those that call themselves “adults” respond with a proposal of progress in this era of violence.

No more dead students. No more dead teachers. No more broken families. No more lost friends. We are stronger than ever, and we will not back down. The time to put an end to gun violence is well overdue.

– The Spectator Editorial Staff