The teen years are significant because they mark the transition from childhood to adulthood. For a lot of people, this stage of development feels liberating and empowering as many of the legal and parental limitations they grew up with begin to disappear. Examples of this freedom range from being able to get a part time job at fourteen to being able and get your provisional license at sixteen to being allowed to stay out later and get piercings and tattoos. These privileges are great and being excited about receiving them is understandable if that’s where your priorities lie.

Throughout my teenage years, however, I have learned a lot about corruption and injustice and about efforts made to combat it. For me, the hardest part about being a teenager in 2017 is being able to understand the things that are happening in the world and not having the power to do anything about any of them.

It has been more than a year since this country endured its most controversial election in recent history. Teens were affected by the rhetoric used during the Trump campaign just as much as most adults. People I care about were affected by immigration policies the Trump campaign supported and eventually implemented. Unfortunately, all I was able to do about it was express my frustration on social media or during in-class discussions because I was not eligible to vote at the time of the election. Adults who felt as strongly about the election as I did had the option to cast a ballot and, in doing so, actively stand against the propaganda, rhetoric, and platforms supported by the Trump campaign. When I saw the outcome of the election, I felt like those adults — who had real opportunities to oppose injustice– had failed me and my generation.

One subject I’ve been keeping up with throughout my teenage years is the Prison Industrial Complex, a system which involves the privatization of prisons and its connection to mass incarceration. The Prison Industrial Complex is a social justice issue I feel very connected to because it disproportionately affects people of color. It’s frightening to know that, as a black male, I have a thirty-three percent chance of being incarcerated in my lifetime. Growing up in black communities has also allowed me to see the symptoms of this systematic corruption. I can write about these issues and do my best to prevent myself from being jailed but, at seventeen, there isn’t much I can do to actively oppose this problem. I can’t run for congress, lobby, or take part in any of the more powerful ways to impact and end the problems that plague the justice system.

I’ve also wanted to support the communities I’ve been a part of. I’ve gained so much perspective from spending time in communities – like the one at SSFS – where people come from a variety of backgrounds and I encourage diversity and social mobility. I also live in a place where sixty-five percent of the residents are black and spent most of my life in areas that were historically black. I find a lot of value in places where people can relate to my experiences. Over the years, my exposure to these two drastically different settings prompted me to realize that the more diverse places were products of the deterioration of monoethnic areas I grew up around. I’ve also learned that the monoethnic settings I was used to were products of the oppression I hoped to combat one day. For a while, I was torn between wanting to preserve the culture and history of black communities and wanting to encourage and promote diversity. Soon enough, I realized that it didn’t matter. There was nothing I could do to change either of those things. I couldn’t buy property in these communities. I could encourage adults to hold on to their businesses and property, but how often do adults take a teenager’s ideas seriously?

I recognize that social media amplifies my voice, but even I, Steven Aldridge, am tired of talking. Talking leaves people with the choice of listening or not, while action often requires a response of some kind. I’m ready to take action on the issues I feel strongly about. Voting, starting my own business, and running for public office are just a few of the ways I might take action in adulthood. The only thing holding me back now is my age.