Student Protests

When I was in the 5^th grade, our students had a walk-out protest.  I can’t remember what the issue was, but I did know one thing – we weren’t the ones protesting. 

Sure the teachers told us we were protesting, and so did the news reporters, but it wasn’t the truth.  It was obvious we were just pawns for the teachers who were using us to make news about some school issue.  I don’t remember what it was all about, but I sure remember the feeling of how fake the entire situation felt.

When I was in high school, our school decided that my generation didn’t respect our elders, and decided to make changes to our dress code to reflect it.  Therefore we would no longer be allowed to wear baseball caps in class.

I didn’t care too much about it because I never wear baseball caps, they just don’t work well for me. There were even a few always-capped kids in school that I felt shouldn’t wear hats, because they had awesome hair.  So in some ways you could say I was in favor of the change.

As word got around school, the students who wore hats started talking about organizing a walk-out protest.  The rumors built up to the point where we actually had a date and time, and everyone knew about it, including the teachers.  Like I stated earlier, I really didn’t care about the hat rule, but I did feel it was silly – who cared if someone wore a hat in school?  I was planning on joining the protest.

The day before the protest there was an announcement on the intercom from the dean stating that anyone who walked out of school would be suspended.  This really angered me, because walking out would probably not change the rule, but the students could at least send a message that we felt the entire thing was stupid.  I even felt that if everyone walked out anyway they would probably not suspend the entire school.

The day of the protest came, and soon enough so did the time.  I remember it like it was yesterday.  I was in accounting.  The clock struck, the room was silent, and I felt an incredible urge to stand up and walk out of the room: but I didn’t – and no one else did either.  I remember peering into the hallway and it was completely empty - you could hear a pin drop.  Just then my teacher spoke up and said it looked like no one was stupid enough to go on any silly walk out.  This angered me even further, enough for me to review my school schedule in my head for the next week, but I still stayed in my seat and did nothing. 

As I sat there, the protest from 5^th grade popped into my head.  I remembered being told how it was such a learning experience for us, and now that all felt like hogwash.  I have never forgotten that day in class, and even though I had no reason what-so-ever to walk out of that class room (I never wore a hat, I wasn’t popular, I’d just be laughed at), I still regret not doing so to this day.

This is why I have a hard time believing student protests.  True protests are supposed to be about people standing up for the things they believe in, and pointing out to the rule makers how silly they are acting.  It’s supposed to be a reality check that stands against black-and-white policies that fail the big picture test. 

It’s kind of sad to say, but I feel that the medium has been abused so much that I don’t believe people are serious unless there are consequences they are facing for having their say.