Open Book: 10 Years Wiser

Trying To Stay Creative Amid The Haze Of Gun Violence

By Anya Nitczynski

For the GPHN

May has always been my favorite month of the year. To me, May represents an emergence from the school year chrysalis. In May, I feel like I see everything through a nostalgic lens.

I attend Denver School of the Arts, which includes students grades 6 through 12. East High School is a little more than three miles away. I have friends there; my brother is graduating from East. This time of year is one of reflection and a time where I convince myself that over the school year I grew wiser by 10 years.

This year, the mystical knowledge I’ve unlocked is the fact that I don’t have any. Some things happen for no reason at all. This school year has been overshadowed by the constant threat of gun violence in and around our schools. Students and teachers alike feel it in the back of their minds, always.

My peers and I talk about how we are constantly aware of who is closest to the door, especially if it’s us. We are wary of taking bathroom breaks in case we become stuck in the hallway, locked out of every classroom. We make jokes and theorize about how our different teachers would react if it happened to us. But it isn’t anything new. Even as it feels like the threat of a shooter is closing in on us and even as it feels like this is becoming inevitable, we are never shocked when we hear about another shooting somewhere far away or close by. We discuss the topic as less of an “if” and more of a “when.”

The iron grip of gun violence stakes itself into every single school in America.I am the same age as the children would be if they hadn’t been killed in the Sandy Hook shooting. This has always been my reality in educational settings. It’s close to impossible for me to imagine why adults are so shocked every time these events repeat themselves. What is the point of protest anymore? We have become so numb to violence as a facet of our lives as students that it’s become increasingly easier to compartmentalize: We hear the news of another shooting and are able to move on.

This doesn’t mean we don’t care or aren’t concerned. It’s a method of self-preservation. It should not be up to students to spark change. It feels like as students we’ve exhausted all of our efforts. We should be allowed to simply grieve instead of being the ones to come up with solutions to problems we didn’t create.

Regardless of the heavy haze of gun violence, my year was characterized by creation. I learned that as a person, I always need to be creating something and honing my artistry. The smallest and seemingly stupidest ways of creating are the best for self-characterization and clarity in times of stress.

This year, it became abundantly clear to me that everyone — not just students — is messing up and making mistakes. What separates good and bad mistakes is what you take from them and how your actions may be different in the future. If you believe in your methods and choose to stand by them, the people around you will be forced to follow suit. And if they don’t, so be it.

Anya Nitczynski is a sophomore at Denver School of the Arts. Her column appears monthly in these pages.