LHS Climate Strike: Why We Should Care More, & Why We Didn't
Before climate striking became an international movement, sixteen year old Swedish activist Greta Thunberg started out as a single voice who skipped school every Friday to demand more parliamentary action on environmental conservation legislation. Soon, she went viral on Twitter, and spearheaded a massive, global youth-lead movement called the Global Climate Strike. On September 20th, 2019, Lexington High School participated in this strike in solidarity to demand local change. I, like many other students who wanted to speak out against the general disregard of our environment by the government, decided to join in.
The march itself went smoothly. Those of us who chose to march met at the quad at 10 AM and marched towards the Lexington football field. There, adults and student organizers passed out pre-made posters with messages like “100% for the Earth,” and “Climate Justice Now.” We were also led in a series of chants that brought the crowd of students together, for a few minutes or so. All of these were efforts to ganer camaraderie amongst us protestors.
I remember seeing many of the older Lexingtonians in the crowd looking proudly at us from the bleachers. I remember watching State Rep. Michelle Ciccolo come on stage and tell us about how brave we were, and how we were the future generation that would end climate change. I remember people with cameras, taking pictures of us holding our posters.
However, the longer I stayed at the march, the more I noticed there was an unidentifiable sense of emptiness. It was evident that most of the students around me were underclassmen. From the outside, many might assume that we were an inspiring mix of students of all demographics, united together with a common message for the politicians of the world. However, as I tried to search for other juniors, never mind seniors, I found there were few to be found. Besides those who took part in the planning of the march itself, upperclassmen, the presumed leaders of the student body, were scattered few and far between.
When asking others in my grade if they were going to participate in the march, most said no, because they felt it wasn’t worth missing school over. They didn’t want to get in trouble. Some had more concrete reasons: they had a test to take, or they were sick before and could not afford another absence. However, the most repeated reason was always something along the lines of “I don’t want my teacher to hate me,” or “this teacher is going to write my recommendation.”
That unidentifiable feeling, the lack of upperclassmen involvement, and the excuses I was given made me think about the underlying culture of LHS and how it contradicts with so much of what I had originally perceived Lexington to be—a liberal town in which every other person reposted Ecosia ads on their social media accounts, with a school that banned plastic straws in its cafeterias, and covered up old trash cans so that students would be more inclined to recycle and compost their lunch.
It is scary to think about Lexington as a whole where we are not able to stand up for the values that we preach when it begins to affect us. What kind of people is Lexington sending off into the real world? People that only care about the continuous cycle of rise, grind, sleep, earn money, or people that want to do something substantial with the education they were given? One stereotype of Lexington that many of us certainly do live up to is our dedication to academics—some may even argue to a fault. We should be able to redistribute some of that energy and attention to the bigger issues that plague our society, such as climate change.
Particularly at a time in which the world is in mass protest—in Hong Kong, Barcelona, Chile, and Lebanon—attention is focused on the youth of society. Young people have always been the catalysts for change. It is inevitable: after all, they will be growing old in the world they shape. Though a single protest may seem unimportant in the grand scheme of lawmaking and behind-the-scenes politics, a large-scale protest can serve as a symbolic presence of resistance and awareness nonetheless. It’s true that not everybody has the time, resources, or privilege to dedicate their lives to speaking at the UN and conversing with elected officials like Greta Thunberg is. However, most have the ability to take an hour out of their time to speak up for what they believe in, and against dangerous policies that can impact their very livelihoods indefinitely.
If we truly are the future that we say we are, we better start acting like it. And if we say that we’re the generation left to save the world, we better start thinking of how to do so. At the very least, we must at least make an effort to try.
by ATHENA LI