Standing in the crowd on Pennsylvania Avenue on Saturday at the March For Our Lives, listening to so many incredible young people who have had their lives upended by gun violence calling bullshit on the national paralysis around the ongoing slaughter, and seeing them in the flesh, they began to take shape for me as human beings who have taken on a heavy load in the midst of their own trauma. It brought home that their dead classmates are still very real to them and that their refusal to accept their absence is fuel for their righteous fire. I have to believe them when they say that they wouldn't have it any other way and that committing to saving future lives is the best response to what they went through. And we all can see clearly the change that they are driving by speaking up so eloquently and acting so courageously. But the innocence lost is heartbreaking. There were many unforgettable moments on Saturday. The sight of Parkland survivor Samantha Fuentes vomiting on stage during her impassioned speech brought home the terrible reality that these are teenaged human beings who have been profoundly traumatized by an experience that no one should ever have and who, due to the inability of us adults to protect them, have taken on an enormous burden far too early in life. That's the undebatable reality they are forcing us to confront that makes thoughts and prayers without action, and the smearing of them as brainwashed puppets, so obscene and that has made their movement so powerful and the students the personification of courage. We not only owe them the change they are seeking but the prolonged help, love, and support that their long-term recovery from their personal nightmares requires.