Walk out, Speak out, Stand out

On the morning of Tuesday, November 14, the hallways of Grace Church School were filled with hushed whispers between friends following the theme of “So, are you going?” or “Did your parents say it was ok?” The topic of these questions? A walk-out.

In 1968 in Los Angeles, the most famous walk-out in the United States took place to protest unequal education and treatment of students due to race. Hundreds of students left school midday as a symbol of unity against the Board of Education. The issue plaguing the minds of so many GCS students as of the morning of November 14th? President-elect, Donald J. Trump. Since the day after the election of Donald J. Trump as America’s next president, protests and demonstrations of outrage have sprung up not only in America, but across the world. These protests are faced by authorities as any protest is: the police are notified and uniformed men in riot gear stand at the ready, waiting to face the worst case scenario of a violent outburst. However, a student walk-out is different. Of course, everyone who participates is just as passionate as the next person, but as opposed to adults, teenagers participate. It’s children. It’s students: educated youth who care enough about the issues their generation faces to take a stand and exercise their rights as American citizens in a peaceful protest. So, how can this be handled by police? We found out on Tuesday.

I was joined by two friends who happened to be leaving at the same time as I was to join the protest that we had been hearing about all morning. We had just received word that as long as our parents emailed the school, we wouldn’t face any serious consequences. With this in mind, we walked to Union Square, and headed towards the 6 train. However, there was no need to check a map. To get to where we needed to go, all we had to do was follow the crowds of students flooding the station, chanting things like “Hey, hey! Ho, ho! Donald Trump has got to go!” over and over again. These chants followed us off of the train as we exited the station at 59th street and Lexington. As we walked out amidst the crowd, I remember thinking to myself, “This is a sizable group. Sure, there aren’t tons of us, but I think we’ll get our message across.” This thought was fleeting however, because the closer we got to Trump Tower, the more clearly we could hear the echoing cries of hundreds of students yelling, “Racist, sexist, anti-gay! Donald Trump, go away!” After a little bit of scrambling, we managed to join the other people who had come out.

Picture this: a throng of high school students begin their march down the center 5th Avenue seemingly encouraged by the rain drenching everyone and everything; Traffic has stopped of its own accord; Police presence is barely noticeable — the only police anywhere near us were two unmarked cars behind us making sure that no one ran us over from behind; almost movie-like, right? Well, that’s exactly what this protest was. I, personally, have never felt more empowered in my life.

I was asked multiple times that day what I think that I accomplished by tromping around in the rain with a bunch of kids shouting about how much we hate Trump. To them, I say that a movement of young, opinionated, and educated people means something in itself, regardless of what we were protesting. On Tuesday, we showed whoever might be paying attention that we are not a generation to be ignored, and we are not a generation to be passive. We weren’t simply voicing opinions against our next president, in fact, hate was the opposite of what our group was creating. There were proud smiles on every face in the crowd. Onlookers were crying at the sight of us, and stopped from their daily routine to take a video or raise an encouraging fist. And, beyond political views, we proved that we, as a generation, are more than just the future of this country. This is, of course, true, and important to remember, but we proved that we also care about this country right now, and we care about our rights right now. We were saying that we are American citizens. Yes, we are young; no, we can’t vote, but we care enough to take full advantage of our rights as citizens by protesting peacefully together. As one of our chants so aptly put it, “Students: united! We’ll never be divided!”

The most amazing thing for me about this protest was how it truly brought out the best side of New York City. First of all, I of course have to acknowledge the students who actually formed the protest. Our vibe, if you will, was one of unity and hope. One of the most reassuring chants was one focused around abortion rights. The girls in the march would shout, “My body? My choice!” and, three octaves lower, the boys would call out, “Her body? Her choice!” For me, this chant in particular proved how unified this group was. Although not everyone in the group was directly affected by every issue that Trump’s presidency might bring, they understood, empathized with, and supported those who would be.

The bystanders watching us march showed a side of New York that I had never seen before. From tourists to food cart workers, people lined the streets taking videos of our protest and sharing those videos with their friends. People of every race and age encouraged us with shouts and smiles, some even thanking us. One woman in particular who was probably in her late 60’s reached out her hand to me in tears mouthing, “Thank you so much.” People leaned out of windows of apartment buildings, sale’s associates walked out of stores to watch. Just walking by these people gave me a sense of community that I have never felt before in my city, and was so uniquely unexpected that I doubt it will ever be replicated.

Then, of course, the cars. Although traffic on 5th Avenue was prevented by the aforementioned police cars trailing the protest, cross streets remained unblocked. Instead of the aggravated shouts that I would have expected from busy New Yorkers with important places to go, taxi drivers, businessmen and women, and school bus drivers stepped out of their cars to watch us go by. Some even honked along to the beat of our chants. Delivery truck drivers stood from the back of their trucks to film the mass of students that I’ve since been told took up two whole city blocks when in motion. I have no doubt that some of the people who leaned out of their windows or trucks weren’t even American citizens themselves, but they live here, they work here, they care, and they cheered us on as our cries of “Love trumps hate!” echoed between city blocks that are so often polluted with the sound of the city.

The march came to a close at Washington Square Park where five or six police officers waited around the entrance as we filled the empty fountain in the center of the park. A speech was made, thanks were exchanged, and the crowd shared some final cheers, but, for now, the moment had ended. The students who had come out on that Tuesday afternoon hoped they had made an impact, but whether they did or didn’t wasn’t really the point for most who had attended. The true take away from that day was that the people who attended the protest are not afraid to express their outrage or anger when faced with an issue that matters to them. Whether this trait will last into adulthood or not is what will affect the impact this generation will or will not have on our government. This protest highlighted the fact that each and every person our age has the tools and will power to make a difference. However, only what we choose to do with these tools is what matters in the long run.