On Friday, February 13, I ran 1.7 miles to reach the stomping feet and enraged shouts of my classmates. With my backpack bobbing on my shoulders and sweat dripping down my forehead, I was easily reminded of why I consciously avoid running, but I refused to stop until I saw the signs reading “Abolish ICE.” 

That day, James Bowie High School students walked out in protest of the United States Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). Previously, I reported the event as it occurred on campus, but I was restricted from carrying any school-funded equipment off campus. So, once the tail end of what seemed like a thousand students exited campus, I left my equipment with a fellow reporter and ran. 

With the intended goal of holding criminal investigations and protecting the safety of the public, ICE has utterly failed. Instead, they racially profile those they investigate, induce violence on innocent civilians, separate families, detain, and kill American citizens. 

“ICE is an organization that has shown time and time again that they’re unwilling to change their violent tactics practiced in their work, despite the harm and chaos they have brought to the public,” senior Yazzie Bukhari said. “It makes me worried, for my friends and their families. Everyone deserves to feel safe where they live.”

All to then place people in what they call a detention center. This creates the assumption that this is a detention facility, and if you believe that to be true, your ears have fallen victim to the gilded words of the ICE. 

Because what I see is an overcrowded, medically neglected, abusive facility with no humanitarian releases, and an increasing count of deaths. 

What I see is a concentration camp. 

And what I hear is zero remorse from the head of ICE, Todd Lyons, who just days before attended a Congress hearing to defend the actions of his federal officers that resulted in the death of two Americans. 

“Let me send a message to anyone who thinks they can intimidate us. You will fail,” 

Lyons said.

But I have a message for him: students are demanding change, and we will keep protesting until it’s achieved. 

This walkout was able to validate this neglected demand in a way that the government and passive activism fail to do. Because when thousands of students strain their voices together, people are forced to listen.

Passive activism, such as Instagram reshares and posts, is most common among my age group. This is because Gen Z has the highest digital competence of any generation, so it’s logical that teens utilize their social media to protest our political environment. 

“Personally, my social media is dominated by coverage of ICE, protests, and general political discourse,” senior Lyla Womack said. “However, news systems and other general media that the average American consumes don’t necessarily cover the magnitude of the threats we face.”

But the course of action is halted in informing and doesn’t evolve to change. Because of the low-impact, none of your frustrations are validated through a post, and are often ignored by both the perpetrators and your followers. 

I often see this resulting in a strong feeling of hopelessness in my friends and me. 

The fact of the matter is, it is mentally draining for students to be constantly fed information about our political environment without the means to take action on it.

On the contrary, a walkout is taking direct action and being presented with instant acknowledgement. And I believe the walkout provided my classmates and me with the acknowledgment that we lacked from our Instagram post, and the course of action that seemed unachievable before.

The sense of community I felt while chanting, walking, and undeniably sweating under the Texas sun alongside my classmates was unlike anything I’ve felt before. Honestly, that feeling was a shock to me. I think pep rallies are boring, and football games are too loud, so I never felt like I was a part of the usual celebrations of our school’s community. As a senior, this walkout made me feel like we are a true community, one that stands together in the midst of injustice, for the very first time. And when I looked around, I could see I wasn’t the only one gaining love for our community. 

Passing cars would honk their horns in support. Cars stuck in traffic would roll down their windows, blasting Bad Bunny. Employees from nearby stores stood outside to cheer us on. And with every form of acknowledgment given, our smiles grew wider, and our cheers grew louder. 

As one hour became three, the number of students present trickled down to 20, but our spirit never faltered. Our chanting persisted, our signs remained high, and change for the first time this year felt achievable.

However, when my friend came to me a week later in tears due to the jokes a classmate made about ICE, my hope was dashed. ICE and its violations against human rights are not a joke. It is not funny, and the fact that so many of my classmates think the topic will start their stand-up comedy career made me remember that the majority of students attending Bowie care naught about the actions of ICE because they are not affected.

The apathy of our classmates is a daily discussion topic for my friends and me at lunch, mostly for us to let out our frustration, since forcing our apathetic classmates to care is an almost unfeasible task that we have tried and failed to do. 

But I will keep trying.

To give my classmates the benefit of the doubt, it is easy to get overwhelmed by news or deem your own life events of higher importance. So, even though I can understand, I lack respect for my classmates who lack the ability to see that their neighbors’ lives are just as important. You are not allowed to ignore your neighbors getting harmed by ICE, whose humanity gets belittled on live television by the dictatorial temperaments in office, and whose quality of life is now riddled with fear or completely stripped away with ICE involvement. 

You are not allowed to act aloof because of your age. Empathy should not be the milestone you hit when you turn 18; you are affected by the actions of the government from the minute you are born, so you have to start caring now. 

Bulldog nation, your privilege is showing, since if you can remain complicit towards ICE, it is only because you are protected from their actions. And when I graduate, I hope to feel that same sense of community I did that Friday, but if my classmates are unable to process empathy, I’m skeptical I will. 

Once I got home, I was hit with how exhausted I was from the walkout. I was dehydrated, sunburned, and the happiest I felt all year. It made me proud to see my classmates stand together. 

And despite all of our differences and petty drama, I knew at that moment we could all agree on one thing: abolish ICE.