Category Archives: March For Our Lives

High school students react, comment on latest mass school shooting

From National Public Radio, NPR:

The students behind the March for Our Lives movement, which started after the Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School shooting in Florida, sent a note of support, saying, “This is the most fatal shooting since the one at our school and tragedies like this will continue to happen unless action is taken.”

One of the leaders of the group, Emma Gonzalez, added via Twitter, “Santa Fe High, you didn’t deserve this.”

Video of student reaction, comments: Youth Radio.

Here is a post from March For Our Lives on Twitter:

    Benicia High School VIDEO: March For Our Lives

    Benicia High School videographers Iris Sampayo and Chris Weldon put together this moving and powerful 2-minute documentation of the Benicia March For Our Lives.  I’m so glad they captured the song, “Shine,” originally created by the Parkland High School Drama Club, and sung here by Dahlia Elgonemy, Ameera Elgonemy, LaPaula Parker, and Gabby Campitelli on guitar.

      Benicia Poet Laureate Johanna Ely: “I am Tired of Waking Up to the Faces of Dead Children”

      Johanna Ely, Benicia Poet Laureate
      [Editor: I have heard many expressions of profound appreciation following Benicia Poet Laureate Johanna Ely’s reading of “I am Tired of Waking Up to the Faces of Dead Children.”  Here it is.  Get a box of tissues, and live through the detailed reality of automated assault on children in our communities.  Text is below, and here is Johanna reading the poem on a Benicia Herald Youtube video.  – RS]

      I am Tired of Waking Up to the Faces of Dead Children

      By Johanna Ely, Benicia Poet Laureate, March 16, 2018

      I am tired of waking up
      to the faces of dead children
      who smile at me
      from the T.V. or computer screen.
      I want to tell them they are not dead.
      I want to reach down
      into the earth
      into the ashes
      and resurrect them—
      pull them up by their bones
      and hug them to my chest.
      I want to wake them up
      and reassure them that
      they are only having a nightmare,
      that the goul with the gun isn’t real.
      I want to check their homework
      and make them breakfast,
      send them off into sunlight—
      tell them I will see them
      when they return home.
      I want their backpacks flung on the couch
      and the kitchen table—
      their lives beginning again
      with every breath.
      I am tired of waiting for gun laws to change.
      I am tired of imagining blood on my hands,
      these children dying in my arms.
      I am tired of hearing their awful silence
      explode in my ears.
      I am tired of trying to remember
      how many there are now—
      how every morning
      they look at me
      and just keep smiling.