I entered high school as someone who felt anxious during most social interactions and who constantly felt I had done something wrong. I had always functioned that way, and as far as I was concerned, I always would. As I continued through the year, I made friends with people who differed from me in that respect and realized I wanted to change, so I made a resolution to become more outgoing.

Admittedly, I found change difficult. You do not just wake up one day and flip your entire personality. I had to struggle to get out of my comfort zone, so I joined Newspaper. Every time I had to interview a student, my hands shook and my voice wavered. Even so, I pushed through my nerves and I became the type of person who feels no fear when speaking up.

Maybe that’s the reason that on February 25, I had enough passion to create something that ended up much larger than myself. I started the @LHSWalkout Twitter account, and two months later, we walked. We walked for change and for the good of our country. We walked because we needed a place to make ourselves heard.

I planned to speak at the event and had a speech planned well beforehand. However, when I published a news story discussing the walkout, we pushed it on social media and immediately received backlash. Hateful comments from Facebook users littered the story.

At first glance, I found their comments amusing. I do not mind taking criticism, especially when I knew I had written an unbiased news story. But they began to attack the credibility of the newspaper I had worked so hard to build during my three years on staff. Because if a publication reports on a walkout, the left-wing must have taken it over to push a Liberal Agenda™ on the students of America.

I had no idea what to do. If I gave a speech, commenters would see us as having used the paper to give the walkout publicity. If I didn’t speak, I would allow the adults to silence my voice, the exact thing the walkout existed to avoid. It took some thinking, but I found a way to get around the conflict of interest presented by having my name on the walkout story. Instead of speaking, I would simply attend. To have my voice heard, I would write a speech and have a friend read it for me.

On April 20, I showed up to school filled with nervous anticipation. What if people didn’t know about the 17 minutes of silence and simply thought we had left class to stand there doing nothing? What if no one walked? What if someone showed up with a gun to threaten us for walking out?

My stomach was in knots, but at 10 a.m., I watched students who I didn’t know filter out the main entrance. Some had already sat on the benches in the courtyard. I watched awestruck as something near 100 students left sixth period to join me in protest of gun violence in America. I set up the stepladder and megaphone before sitting with my friends to hold my sign on my lap.

After four amazing speeches and just as the final speaker prepared to talk, one counter-protester crossed the street and asked a question. She wanted to know why we walked out, and a girl who had sat very near me stood up to respond, energized by the cheers of her fellow protesters. Even so, the crowd sat relatively calm until the counter-protesters grew louder and began to yell. At that point, protesters retaliated and my heart dropped. How could I possibly stop people from fighting? After all, students had come outside because of me, so anything that happened during the walkout fell on my shoulders.

The first speaker stood. “If you want to know why we’re here,” he told her, “stay and listen to our final speaker.” She walked away without hesitation, and I sighed in relief.

The final speaker stood to deliver my speech, and the walkout ended successfully. As I calmed down, I thought maybe getting counter-protestors was a good point; we had made a big enough impact that they felt a need to antagonize us.

We had made a difference.

Organizing a walkout would have been a far-off dream, an impossibility even, when I started high school. Seeing the good side of getting counter-protestors less likely. In four years, I figured out how to make my impact on the world around me.

As far as I can tell, that is what high school exists for. I found my voice here. And as I move on to the world beyond, I know I will take that persistence and faith in my own abilities with me.