• earthyearproject

My First Protest

Updated: Sep 23, 2019

"Scientists have done their job, now it's time for politicians to do theirs."


Whether or not it's too late to make enough change, the recent wave of youth climate strikes and protests showed the world how much we care. We are angry, and we are scared, because we're not sure that our planet will be habitable for the rest of our lifetimes. 


I convinced my host brother that it was worth skipping school for a day in order to make the trek into 'the City' (San Francisco). The day started with us both finishing up our signs, and heading to the train. It's about an hour train ride from my mom's house to downtown, and as we rode we saw only a few others who looked like they might be going to the same place as us. We initially got off at the wrong station, and wandered around lost and confused with our giant signs for about half an hour before we found the rest of the kids marching.


When I say kids marching, that's exactly what I mean. I felt old. The majority of the kids there were clearly in middle school or high school, with a few parents and chaperones mixed in. Some toddlers riding in strollers, some babies catching a ride on mom or dad's back...but not many other recently-out-of-college aged kids. I tried to hide behind my NASA hat as much as possible, and blend in with the youthful crowd. We yelled and we chanted, asking our politicians to help put the Green New Deal into effect. What was crazy to me, though, was the fact that most of these people weren't even old enough to vote yet. The only change that they could try to make was raising the alarm and hoping people would listen.


I'm grateful that I am old enough to vote, and entitled enough to have the time to research my candidates and make informed, educated decisions. Part of the next year will include two months of preparation for election season of 2020, because I hope to make a bit of a difference. Every vote counts, right? I guess we'll see. I would love to believe it. Here's to marching, striking, and yelling our way to a future that we demand. A future that we ask for, and one that is not handed to us.

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