This essay was the grand prize winner of the Think for Yourself college scholarship sponsored by Let Grow, a nonpartisan group promoting childhood independence and resilience.
“Watch out, [Mispronounced Name]. You gonna write another article?”
School had just ended, and I was waiting outside the bathroom for a friend when I noticed a large underclassman glaring in my direction. Upon meeting his gaze, he marched to the bathroom, swung the door open, and pointed at me: “Hey guys, it’s [Mispronounced Name]!” One by one, vapers emerged from the doorway and sized me up, before retreating back inside.
My friend came out moments later, and we turned to leave. Behind us, the vapers called me to come back. The message was clear: While it would be inconvenient to jump me out in the open, there would be no hesitation behind closed doors.
But why were these vapers so upset with me? To explain the full story, I need to backtrack to my junior year.
I had just submitted a short article on vandalism in the bathrooms to the school newspaper. I thought nothing more of it, until I was called to the principal’s office.
The principal scolded me for writing a “slanted” “hit piece.” He criticized the article for having only one interview, claimed its images were out of date, and demanded that he or another administrator be interviewed for future articles.
At first, I was shocked. But as I re-read my article, my shock turned into indignation, and my indignation into determination: If the principal wishes to deny the reality of the bathrooms, I will write an article that is simply undeniable.
I took his criticisms to heart. Only one interview? This time, I interviewed students across grade levels, and teachers, and vapers, and a custodian. Out of date images? This time, I collected images of boys’ bathroom sinks, urinals, and toilets filled with garbage; of girls’ bathrooms littered with graffiti and feminine products. I documented discarded vape and cannabis products from Muha Meds, Unipuff, Lava Plus, RIPS, GEEK BAR, Ace Ultra Premium, and Loud Snackz.
By my senior year, I was ready to interview the principal. After cancelling one meeting and failing to show up to another, he finally sat down with me. However, after just three questions — two about his employment history at the school and one about the emergence of vaping — he stopped the interview, citing disrespect and his suspicion that the interview would be “slanted.”
In November, I submitted my new article to the school newspaper. This time, it did not go smoothly. Entire sections were omitted or edited last minute, without notice. Nearly half of the images and everything detailing my fruitless efforts to interview the principal were redacted. I proposed several revisions to the teacher advisor, but none were accepted.
I had a decision to make: Would I be silenced, or would I speak out?
If the school would not publish my article, I would. Abetted by my tech-savvy brother, I created a website from scratch, adding an explanation of the censorship I had faced. I updated the article too, including more interviews, images, and an Instagram video of partying in the girls’ bathroom featuring dancing, vaping, and a bubble machine.
In December, I shared the website to a community message board. Soon, it had been viewed thousands of times, and parents had left dozens of impassioned replies.
“I knew [the] bathrooms had a few problems, but this is UNACCEPTABLE,” wrote one.
“[O]utrageous,” agreed another. “What’s the Principal’s response to this?”
Others emailed me privately: “Thank you…. My son was just telling me the other day how difficult it is to use the bathroom.”
Five days later, the principal released a statement responding to “an article on an independent website,” highlighting “the proactive steps” the administration had taken to combat bathroom misuse and conveniently ignoring the censorship.
Today, the bathrooms are still swarming with vapers. Today, I no longer use the bathrooms for fear of being assaulted. But today, I am without regrets. Although they have yet to bloom, I have planted the seeds of change despite intimidation, censorship, and threats.
When I hear “Watch out, [Mispronounced Name],” I hear only a reminder that I made the right decision.
Soh is a graduate of Leonia High School in N.J., he is now a first-year student at UCLA.
