Why I walked out of the STEM school vigil
Students aren’t political props. We want change, but first let us mourn.
Freshman year, fourth period, robotics class, 2016. Sitting across from me was a musician, once a friend, and now accused of the most recent school shooting.
The shooting at my Colorado school happened long before Tuesday. My former classmate was bullied at school because of his smaller stature. He needed help. This does not serve as an excuse. I wasn’t on campus at the time of the shooting, but the accused attackers deserve to bear the weight of the lives dismantled and the death of Kendrick Castillo on their shoulders.
Students at STEM, like the rest of the nation, desire change, but let’s not focus on that just yet.
News of a vigil to be held last Wednesday night spread on social media. We attended that vigil for the purpose of honoring Kendrick, 18, who rushed the shooter and was fatally shot. We wanted the nation to know about Kendrick, a selfless, loving individual with far more remarkable characteristics than can be listed.
We quickly realized that many who attended this vigil desired to exploit our pain to support political agendas. To his credit, Sen. Michael Bennet did briefly begin with his sympathies; however, he immediately began speaking about “broken gun laws in America.” Similarly, Lauren Reeves of Moms Demand Action stressed electing “gunsmart politicians” and increasing gun restrictions and laws.
That isn’t why we gathered together. Though these speakers might have had good intentions, they badly misread what we needed from this vigil. STEM students were looking for solace and a place to publicly honor the life of Kendrick so that the nation knows what he did for our school.
Kendrick was loved by many, and to disrespect his memory with selfish intent was something we did not have the stomach for. He was a human being, not a statistic, and most certainly not a political prop. How the vigil was conducted only proves that politicians are too far removed from the situation to even help us.
We needed that time to mourn our friend and process this traumatic event. Watching politicians use Kendrick’s death and our pain as a tool to promote their agendas, just a day after the massacre, was like watching a comedian perform a set during a funeral. It was disrespectful and inappropriate.
I was livid; so many of us were. As soon as we recognized that this event was more of a chance to promote gun control and not an actual vigil for our fallen friend, I could feel the crowd begin to grow uneasy.
One of the audience members stood up and called out, “Let STEM kids speak,” to which an organizer replied that they were unable to get in contact with us.
Maybe. But in reality, no one I know at STEM heard from the organizers.
In response, it seemed every STEM student in the room became enraged. And with that, we stormed out of the gymnasium to the hallway in protest. Many of us even charged outside for an impromptu smartphone light vigil to bring the event back to what its original purpose should have been: celebrating Kendrick’s life.
Although I know the students of STEM School Highlands Ranch intend to lead a charge for change, we need time to mourn the death of our friend, Kendrick. We refuse to allow politicians to use our experience as some form of leverage such that we become just another gun debate.
We will honor the memory of Kendrick Castillo and the sacrifice he made to save his class, and the school, from something far more devastating.