Don’t stop fighting. If there is one thing we must take away from the events of the last two days — the events of the last few months, or the last four years, or further — it is that we cannot stop fighting.

To fight is a verb; it is a practical action, an ongoing event.

It is a scary word, because it requires us to act, to do. The word sounds harsh, even violent.

It is tempting for us to want to shy away from a fight, in favor of some more gentle and vague word, like “acceptance” or “unity.”

But so many of us — perhaps all of us — already fight every day.

We fight to keep our sanity in trying times; we fight to find the time and resources to fill our lives with art, culture, and music; we fight to build a better future for ourselves and our children.

On page 3 of this issue, we show the fight being waged by faculty across the district to understand and perhaps undo the decisions made about how we spend money on technology.

On pages 4 and 5 of this issue, we show off the hard work of Oaklanders as they put on a vivid display of unimaginable creativity for their community.

And on page 8 of this issue, we show you how, despite the tragedy of death, we channel our energy into living, just as the memories of our loved ones channel energy into us.

So if you didn’t know it already, and the above isn’t enough to convince you, then the last two days should have shown you the truth: we’re fighters.

To fight is a verb; it is an impassioned pursuit, an exciting challenge. It is an empowering word, because it reminds us of all the fights we have already waged — especially the ones we have won.

After each of these fights, we have healed just as we have fought: together.

Something truly damaging occurred on the night of Nov. 8. We must heal, and we will heal. But all the while, we will fight like hell: against hatred, for and towards the future we need.