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Sometimes at Stone Soup we receive several submissions that have to do with the same topic. Over the past weeks, we've received several related to gun violence, most notably school shootings and police brutality. In light of the shooting in Santa Fe, Texas today, Friday, May 18, 2018, we've decided to publish a selection of these sadly relevant pieces online.

The Bullet people running
Drawing by William Drewes, 13

There is a lockdown on October 23, 2015. by Aidan McClure, 7
Lullaby by Rebecca Beaver, 13
Seventeen Graves by Kate Kuan, 11

Plus, a reminder to read our March blog piece,
5 Ways Children Can Make a Difference by Lucy Regnier Kline




There is a lockdown on October 23, 2015.

by Aidan McClure, 7

It was very scary! We had to hide in the coatroom for an hour and a half. Everybody was freaking out except for me, you know, because I am writing this. The police needed to give us an emergency early dismissal but not the good kind. Some people hid under their desks. We didn’t get to have lunch at school. The people who are working on the track left early. Mrs. Fitzgerald turned on Johnny Appleseed. Someone named Madison is writing about this to remember. I said I wasn’t afraid. Well now I am. Hu hu hu hu. That’s me breathing loud. I do that when I’m scared. I’m pretty sure everybody is terrified, even our fish is terrified. I will never forget this day. They’ll probably make my mom leave early too. I can’t wait until I get home and by the way I am still hu hu hu huing. They  are starting to call the buses now thankfully. Some people think that they are going to die.

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by Rebecca Beaver, 13


This little boy

Shot dead-


Got into an “altercation”

His killer claimed self defense

And got away free

Florida 2012

That’s where it went down


This little boy

Hood pulled up

Iced tea in hand

Skittle in back pocket

A figure, observing from inside a van


I’m not even sure he was a man


Called the police

Said he was afraid

Of the little boy

Was ordered

“Stay put. Keep away.”


Soon the world would know their fate


He didn’t

Slowly slithered out of his van

Stalked the little boy’s way


In his eyes

So bright, so full of life

Suddenly, the “man”

Reached for his gun—the bullets…






Tore through him

Dressed in red—

Alone, the little boy died

Hood pulled up

Bright eyes dull

Light; gone

No one seems to care

He’s gone, his killer free

He becomes a symbol

Of injustice

Gun violence

Police brutality

But when all is said

And all is done

He was just a little boy

Loved by a mother

Who doesn’t want a symbol

She wants her son

Here, safe, alive

She wishes with all her heart
She had been able to tell him she loves him

Say goodbye

And sing her son

Her poor, sweet baby

A lullaby.

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Seventeen Graves

by Kate Kuan, 11

A terrible loss on Valentine’s day
Students and teachers dead in the fray
How did so many lives end this way
Because no one saw the signs
He aspired to murder and told others so
Through an Instagram profile that showed he was a foe
But no one noticed and no one would know

No one saw the signs

Cruz was nineteen, and passed a background check
Nobody knew he would take a trek
To a school where his expulsion was put into effect

Nobody saw the signs

Seventeen gravestones ringed with wreaths
Because bullets were shot from their metal sheathes
Each grave for a person who no longer breathes
Because no one saw the signs

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