The following may contain content that can be triggering. As a disclaimer, this article will deal with my personal account of mental health, trauma, and suicide. Please read at your own discretion.  

I would like to begin by introducing myself. My name is Carlos Lopez Martinez. I am a current student at Kenyon College and graduated from Parker in 2019. What you are about to read is a reflection of my time at Parker having now graduated and settled into college. I am specifically reflecting on the negative effects of Parker, however I want to be clear that my experience at Parker was not entirely negative. 

When I first began my career at Parker in 2015, I was extremely overwhelmed. The way I felt had to do with the wealth and privilege that was concentrated within the school. I came into Parker having previously attended a CPS school with a fraction of the budget Parker has and twice the classroom population. My first year I felt guilty using the resources I was provided at Parker, not because I felt that I did not deserve them, but because I knew that many of them were excessive luxuries given to me without the slightest hesitation. 

Now that I have spent some time outside of the sphere of Parker, I can articulate the negative implications the luxuries I was given had on me. For one, the abundance of resources made it seem as though Parker was going above and beyond to provide me with educational equity. 

In reality, those resources were distracting me from the fact that I was being bullied and harassed, and my assailants went unpunished. Secondly, being gifted these resources made me feel indebted to the school. I felt as though I owed the school for all they had given me. Most of my freshman year, I dedicated my time and energy to Parker, hosting multiple prospective students, promoting the school, and recruiting students at fairs. 

In reality, I never owed anything to the school, and despite all they gave me, I now feel Parker owes me for all that I endured at its hand. Parker gifting me unnecessary tools made me internalize my own oppression. I was given a MacBook Air and a TI-84 calculator for free because those were tools that were “essential” for my classwork.

In blindly giving me these expensive devices, they were defining and delineating the economic standards of the school. 

I began to think of myself as poor because I could not afford those items on my own. My internalization of extreme poverty was based on my economic standing at Parker, despite that not being the norm elsewhere. Not everyone buys the latest Apple device or wears $600 Gucci sneakers casually, because most people cannot afford to do so. However, that was the culture at Parker, and it was recognized by the school. Parker’s attempt to create equity among their students was counterproductive to my growth and ability to perform in school. 

The year in which we began to see the Trump 2016 presidential campaign form was a very important year to understand my experience at Parker. The majority of my family is undocumented, and I was living in a time of intense fear. 

As a Mexican-American, I chose to downplay my cultural background to blend in at my school and remain safe. Despite my efforts, my freshman year I was the target of several distasteful Trump jokes. I was racially harassed by one of my peers constantly.

This student came from an influential family. I did not. I feared that he would discover the status of my family members and cause us serious harm. The harassment continued for the rest of the year and I allowed it to go unpunished. 

I eventually learned how to stand up to the student for myself, and there came a point where my fears subsided and I wanted to hold him accountable for his actions. I would go on to report the student in many other instances, but I was never offered any form of disciplinary action. 

I am happy that the student was able to receive a wonderful education, but seeing him walk through the halls every day made me feel as though my voice was meaningless. All I wanted was for the student to be held accountable for what he had done to me. The administration refused to acknowledge my pain.

Often narratives such as these are flooded with stories where a white student is the villain and the administration is to blame for not taking disciplinary action. At Parker, it is also important to expand this narrative to teachers. In my time at Parker, I was hurt by multiple teachers. Multiple teachers stripped me of my willingness to learn and create. 

I was singled out for being Mexican. I was punished for advocating for Indigenous representation (as I am Indigenous). I was targeted for not being able to afford the resources to complete a project. The list goes on and on. 

Unlike students, I could not avoid my teachers. Having to be in their classroom four times a week and feeling unsafe created an environment that did not allow for my intellectual growth. By the end of my experience at Parker, I would rarely come to class and when I did attend class, I would rarely speak. 

Many considered this a case of senioritis, but what they didn’t know was that I was also skipping meals. I could not bring myself to leave bed some days. These are signs of depression. There came a point where I began experiencing health issues that I had never experienced before such as panic attacks, severe and recurrent colds, and chronic migraines. 

My seemingly unexplained mental and physical health issues have a name. What I was experiencing was “race-based trauma.” I came to discover this recently in talking to counselors at Kenyon College.

Race-based trauma describes individuals who are in environments of high racially charged discrimination and whose minds and bodies begin to elicit the similar reactions to people who experience post-traumatic stress. I am writing this personal and vulnerable opinion because I would hate to see more people go through this at Parker. These effects have followed me all the way to college. 

It is time to demand accountability from the adults at Parker. I see my younger sister already experiencing some similar events, and I do not want this cycle to perpetuate. While my experience of trauma is rooted in being a low-income student of color, women and white students are susceptible to different forms of trauma at Parker and in the world. 

As a model home and complete community, Parker should seek to be an escape from the world outside that discriminates. 

As students, it is our right to demand a safe environment in which to learn, grow, and prosper. At Parker, we have the right to demand a safe space. I am limited in what I can do to change the dynamics inside Parker as an alumnus, but I ask that all of the students, teachers, staff, and every other member of the community take charge of this issue.