I thought Wednesday
morning, March 14th would be a solitary moment of street art for me,in
solidarity with the Women’s March Youth EMPOWER’s National School Walkout. I
live a block from C.W. Henry Elementary school but I had no idea if they
planned to walk out, so I printed out my own series of “No More Guns” posters
and planned to staple them around the neighborhood’s phone poles. The Walkout
was planned for 10 A.M. in every time zone, seventeen minutes to honor the
people who were killed at Marjorie Stoneman Douglas High School a month
before. As a self-employed teacher, (The
Sandy Hook shooting happened three days before I completed my student
teaching.) I felt that it should be a moment of connection and solemnity for
me.
I had just started
putting up the posters when there they were, the Henry students with their
teachers and principal. The children were silent and serious, well, as silent
and serious as elementary students get. Kid art is my favorite thing in the
world, and these children’s signs, most of them on orange poster board (orange
is the gun control color), saying things like “Our Lives Matter,” and “Enough,”
“Guns have no place in schools,” and “Protect kids not guns,” illustrated in
painstaking detail. I’m happy to say that no art I make will ever be as
beautiful or meaningful as those signs. Feeling like a mini-Shepherd Fairey, I
gave the kids the rest of my own posters, then stood back with other
neighborhood adults to marvel and support.
“How lucky we are to be alive right now,” goes one of
my favorite quotes from Hamilton, and
those seventeen minutes were as complicated and bittersweet as that line.
When the seventeen
minutes were up, the neighborhood cheered and the kids proceeded silently back
to their classes. It was beautiful to see them speaking up for themselves and
the school being so supportive of their efforts. As I watched the school
walkouts follow the time zones across the country on facebook, I felt a
powerful sense of hope for America, my natural optimism galvanized by my
seventeen minutes with the brave kids of Mt. Airy.
 |
| Art by Cece Mulcahy, bedazzled by me post-walk-out because I wanted to spoil the neighborhood. |
On Saturday, March 24, my best friend and I were among
the 800,000 people who joined the Parkland students at the March for Our Lives
in Washington D.C. It was the same solemnity and power that I felt with the
Henry walkout, multiplied by thousands and soundtracked by Andra Day’s anthem
“Rise Up,” Lin Manuel Miranda’s new single “Found/Tonight” which reprised
lyrics from Hamilton including, most importantly, “Tomorrow there’ll be more of
us.”
It was at the March for
Our Lives that I met Zahlia, a six-year-old young lady marching for the first
time. When she saw the sparkly butterfly on my sign, her eyes lit up as though
I were the queen of the universe. I asked if she would like the sign, since it
was clearly meant for her. I’m so proud that I got to be a small part of her
march experience, that I was able to give her just a fragment of the joy and
celebration she deserves.
Sometimes, its hard to
feel worthy of the children that I teach, the children that I share a movement
with. They are so bright and generous, so beautiful and courageous, shining
with a light we are lucky to stand near, lucky to be edified by.
It shouldn’t be their job
to save us. The Parkland students should be working on their school plays and
goofing around on Snapchat or whatever new weird things the kids are into these
days. But instead, they are serving their country, helping us to be better and
safer and wiser. I’m excited to see the country they’ll create, and I’m here to
help in any way I can.
