Too Close to My School for Comfort

By Lakshmi Sunder

Going back to school also means confronting the darker parts of American life, including the prevalence of school shootings and other gun-related violence.

Three days after the mass shooting at Robb Elementary School in Uvalde, Texas, which took the lives of 19 students (the youngest of whom was eight-years-old) and two elementary school teachers, there was a National Rifle Association (NRA) Convention in my hometown of Houston. More specifically, there was an NRA Convention three blocks away from my high school.

Well-known names were at the convention, including Republican Senator Ted Cruz and former President Donald Trump; Governor Greg Abbott of Texas was going to attend the convention, but instead he had to go to Uvalde—about four hours west—to honor the lives lost there. He sent a video message to the convention’s attendees instead. 

In anticipation of a potentially life-threatening situation on the day of the convention, May 27th, a school administrator tweeted, “Your student’s safety and well being is always our top priority…Please assist by picking up your students in a timely manner…If your student drives to school, please encourage them to immediately leave downtown upon dismissal…”

NRA attendees were also in anticipation of a potentially life-threatening situation: during Trump’s speech, there were no firearms allowed in the center. 

My friends and I looked longingly out the window on the fourth floor last Friday, hands pressed against the glass to guess at what temperature protestors were braving in the Texas summer. We praised passersby who had protest posters in hand, walking towards the convention center, even as we were encouraged to stay away from it.

"She's wearing a drawstring bag and a visor. She’s ready for whatever," one of us would say.

"If anything bad happens, at least we’re on the fourth floor," said another.

It was silent for a moment.

"I wish I could go," we all said as a helicopter passed by, a banner tacked to its tail that read, “NRA Go Away.” It became clear that day that we would rather risk our lives than wait for the inevitable to happen. Hundreds of protestors felt the same. But as teens, instead, we used our voices as storytellers to share and express how we felt about what was happening a stone's throw from our high school. We wrote blog posts, articles, short stories, memories, diary entries, or poetry about that day. Most of our writings would be published. None of our experiences would be forgotten.​