Isabel: Sit-Ins and Surprises
The lobby floor of the Arizona State Senate is quite cold.
This piece of knowledge, though not useful on its own, shaped my understanding of grassroots advocacy and youth activism. I discovered the frigid tile of the Capitol building when I was fourteen years old.
My first year of high school was characterized by typical American student activities: watching football games, playing JV sports, and reading headline after headline about school shootings.
By my sophomore year in 2019, gun injury had become the leading cause of death for children in the United States. Disheartened and terrified by the growing gun violence epidemic, I decided to turn my alarm into action by joining the new Arizona chapter of March for Our Lives, a youth uprising founded by survivors of the 2018 mass shooting at Marjorie Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida.
My first task as a student lead for the organization: help conduct a “die-in” of students throughout the state House, Senate, and Governor’s office.
Nearing the Capitol complex wearing matching orange T-shirts, we were greeted by state troopers and a mob of heavily armed counter-protestors. Our group of around 20 students was no older than seventeen. We lay down on the floor of the Senate lobby while our gun-toting opposition followed us in.
For six hours we sat or lay close to each other, watching the sun fall, the security shifts swap, and the counter-protestors continue their taunts. I remember being surprised — not that they came to protest for “gun rights,” but that they were bold and shameless enough to protest children. I realized that the inflammatory and fake information I read on social media was not just a silly annoyance, but held real power. In fact, it held enough power to push adults to shoulder their semi-automatic assault rifles, drive all the way to central Phoenix, and yell at children for six hours straight.
By the end of the night, I left the lobby floor feeling disappointed and scared for the future. But waiting for us outside the Senate doors was an unexpected sight that gave me hope: a crowd of activists, elected officials, and parents were cheering for our small act of civil disobedience.
In that moment, I realized how important it was that my peers and I continue to advocate for our beliefs. I knew that I would be seeing many of my new friends in the Senate again soon — next time not on the floor, but on their feet.
Sara: The Capitol on the Day of the 1864 Abortion Ban Repeal
On Wednesday, April 24, Isabel and I joined our CEBV Fellowship cohort at the Arizona State Capitol to watch our political processes in action from the House gallery. That day, it just so happened that the House was voting on a repeal of the 1864 abortion ban.
When I walked onto the Capitol grounds, I immediately knew that something was different than the times I’d been to the Capitol before. Everywhere I looked, there were protestors with bold shirts and signs: kids, some as young as 8 years old, held signs picturing bloody fetuses with designed-to-shock anti-abortion text. Parents held signs proclaiming abortion as murder. Throngs of reporters roamed the grounds, taking in the scene with notepads and cameras. The line to go through security and enter the House building extended into the middle of the courtyard.
Entering the building, we discovered that the gallery was full, so we filed into an overflow committee room. It was full – as were the other five – and the atmosphere was tense; advocates for the abortion ban repeal and anti-abortion activists sat side by side.
As the House proceedings turned to repeal of the 1864 abortion ban, the tension became palpable. Rep. Kolodin’s attempt to add a right of individual action to the bill, when voted down, was met with groans of dismay. And when the vote on the repeal itself began, people in the room started to speak up: a pro-choice activist in the back row began laughing at Republican House members as they spoke, questioning their facts. An anti-abortion activist engaged her; their argument escalated to the point that the anti-abortion man began to liken his pro-choice counterpart to the devil.
With raised voices echoing in the room, I focused on the shirts a few men in front of me were wearing, which alarmingly read “REVIVAL IS WAR / READY FOR BATTLE.” I texted my friend, a Senate page, asking if things were heated on her side of the courtyard. I told her that I was worried that the argument playing out in front of me might become violent.
Luckily, words were the only weapons used, but after the final vote which repealed the 1864 abortion ban, we were advised to exit the House quickly and quietly for our safety. After a quick detour to meet a few friendly legislators, I left the Capitol that day in shock at the tension and combativeness I experienced; I can only imagine what it was like for someone experiencing the Capitol for the first time, as many of our CEBV Fellows were. We’ll interview a few of them for next week’s column!