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The book is a reprint of a classic originally published in 1873, offering readers a chance to explore historical themes and perspectives from that era. It retains the original text, allowing for an authentic experience of the language and style of the time. This edition may include additional insights or context that enhance the understanding of its significance in literary history.
Zwei Schüler der Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School schreiben ein Manifest
für unsere Zeit und geben tiefe Einblicke in die Anfänge der Bewegung
#NeverAgain, entstanden nach dem Amoklauf in Parkland, Florida. Am 14. Februar
2018 gingen der 17-jährige David Hogg und seine 14-jährige Schwester Lauren
wie an einem ganz normalen Mittwoch zur Schule, in die Marjory Stoneman
Douglas High School. Doch dieser Tag sollte alles ändern. Angesichts von 17
erschossenen Mitschülern und Lehrkräften standen sie schon am nächsten Morgen
an der Spitze einer Bewegung, deren Ziel es ist, einen tiefgreifenden Wandel
in der amerikanischen Gesellschaft herbeizuführen. Am Morgen nach dem
Schulmassaker appellierte David Hogg über CNN: Bitte, ihr seid doch die
Erwachsenen! Ihr müsst Haltung zeigen. Arbeitet zusammen und bewirkt endlich
etwas. Dieses Buch ist ein Manifest der Bewegung, die an jenem Tag entstand.
Einer Bewegung, die Amerika schon jetzt verändert hat - die Stimme einer neuen
Generation, die entschlossen ist, den Wandel herbeizuführen für eine bessere
Welt. Es ist eine Generation, die sagt: Es reicht.
VALENTINE'S DAY WHEN YOU OPEN YOUR EYES BUT THE nightmare doesn't go away,
you've got no choice but to do something. Our first job now is to remember.
Our second job is to act. Remember, act, repeat. Since that day, none of us
are the same. But we are alive. And in memory of those who are not, we will
remember and act for the rest of our lives. We've always been taught that as
Americans, there is no problem that is out of our reach; that if we set our
minds to it, we can solve anything. Anything except for our problem with gun
violence. That can't be fixed. When that problem flares, it's Hey, wow, that's
terrible. Too bad there's nothing to be done about it. Like it's an act of
God, or a natural disaster, something beyond our control that we are helpless
to do any- thing about. Which defies all logic and reason. We live in Florida,
a place which has some experience with natural disasters. What happened on
Valentine's Day 2018 was neither natural nor an act of God. What happened that
day was man-made-which means that as human beings, we have the capacity to do
something about it. Our generation has the obligation to do something about
it. In class, we learned about something called entropy. I guess you could say
that entropy came to our school that day, and since the shootings, we have
seen that there are powerful forces that thrive in chaos. Entropy is what the
universe wants to happen. The story of existence and human civilization is the
struggle against entropy-working to stick together, not fly apart. To
cooperate, not fight. To love, not hate. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I
can't speak for everyone. If I was my fresh- man or sophomore or halfway-
through-junior- year self, I would just sit here and explain everything.
That's how pretentious and overconfident I was, and probably still am, to some
ex- tent. But if there's one thing I learned from the shootings, it's that my
freshman or sophomore or halfway-through-junior-year self couldn't have
survived that day. That's the reason for this book-we all had to find a way to
survive, and we all had to come up with our own answers, but it turned out
that all of our answers were just different facets of the same answer. That's
why the shootings made us stronger instead of destroying us. So I could sit
here and tell you the heroic tale of a kid who was so cool under fire and so
passionate about justice that he whipped out his camera while the shooter was
still shooting. But the truth is that I was thinking about something one of my
teachers had been talking about a couple of days before: in the sweep of time
billions of people have lived on this planet, yet the world only remembers a
few hundred of them. This means that everybody else is just a background
character who will be forgotten into the nothingness that is time and the
universe. My teacher was talking about being humble, but I'm way too myopic
and self-involved for that. My thinking went more like this: Am I going to be
just an- other background character? Is this what it's all been leading up to?
Just a bullet to the head? And I decided, Okay, I may be another back- ground
character, but if I'm going to die I'm going to die telling a damn good story
that people need to hear. That's why I hit record. I was almost acting out the
role that a journalist plays in a war zone, where you have to ask these
questions and stay focused on one simple thing. That's what kept me calm. And
to be honest, except for one split second when the fear rushed through me, I
really thought it was just a drill. Even after we knew it wasn't a drill, it
was still so hard to accept the re- ality of it. But here's the important
thing: my sister, Lau- ren, was fourteen that day, and there's nothing myopic
or self-involved about her. After the shooting stopped, she was crying so
hysterically that I didn't want to be around her. Her friends had been
murdered, and I couldn'