I am a student.

I am a teacher.

I am committed to Wilson.

I devote my time to fixing errors.

I work myself until I can’t see the words on the page.

Yes.

I am male.

I am also a person.

I was tired of trying to fix this one.

On the night that my team and I finalize the very pages you hold in your hand, members of the Wilson community quarrel over whether or not my gender has a right to attend this school. Arguments drift to different topics—the alma mater, the charter, the marketing decisions, the representations of student activities—but let’s all be honest. There is a group of people that believe I should not be here, writing this editorial. I’ve seen conversations held by people who have never met me, who are disgusted by my mere presence.

How am I supposed to deal with that?

Do I get angry and start biting back?

Do I let it go?

I told people—friends, family, students, faculty, staff, everyone. I told them that I was upset, that I hated these people that I never met. As frustrated as I was, it was hard to deal with those emotions. People are entitled to their opinions after all, but where were the opinions of people like me?

I stewed for a few weeks, irritated at my inability to fix the problem.

Then I had a revelation: the derisive voices of the angry few are nothing compared to the vitality and love of those that silently care, the people that have been here all along.

The vast majority of people on this campus have supported me for the last five years, and that has never changed.

I finally realized it. I have nothing to fix.

I am done.

Better, yet. We are done. Why focus on an argument that no one can win?

Let’s not worry about the negatives. Let’s continue to be who we are and do what we do best—continue to grow.