On Friday, April 17, the Columbia Heights Public Schools (CHPS) district held a gratitude event to thank community leaders and volunteers who aided Columbia Heights through Operation Metro Surge. Columbia Heights High School students Justin Cajamarca Ayora (12) and Ava Sinchi (11) gave heartfelt speeches detailing their experiences as CHHS students before and throughout this tragedy. The Heights Herald is honored to share the transcripts of their speeches below. Thank you for the powerful words, Hylanders. 

Ava Sinchi:

Firstly, I want to thank everyone for coming tonight. Honestly, it means a lot to us as a community to be here for each other and others. 

My name is Ava Sinchi. I’m a junior who’s been in the Columbia Heights district for five years. When I first went to middle school here, I hated it. I started out with zero friends, zero teachers I knew,  and zero knowledge of my own native language, Spanish. I was challenged to connect to my culture, which I thank this community for.

Funnily enough, my first friend was a classmate who spoke Spanish to me, and I had no clue what he was saying. Instead of shutting me down, he befriended me and introduced me to people who share the similar culture as me. As our own community, we made ourselves known that we had each other. Even though I wasn’t as connected to my culture, they slowly introduced me to it. We were loud and proud to say the least.

However,  these past few months in Columbia Heights have been the hardest months I’ve ever experienced. I think, for a lot of us, we tend to forget what a community truly feels like. We pay attention to our own lives, like heading to work, taking care of kids, or worrying about what time you’re going to turn in that essay. We get so caught up in what we’re doing that we tend to forget to stop and think about others.

It’s a challenging thing to learn, especially when all we’ve known to do is focus on our lives, but in Heights, we’ve proven to be different. I think the first time I realized just how much of a community it was here was when the ICE surge really hit us. What used to be normal drives to school turned into constantly checking mirrors and fearing the car with a Texas license plate was an ICE agent; what used to be lively Latino restaurants on Central Avenue became quiet and empty buildings with no meaning; and what used to be a school filled with diversity became hallways empty of students who were now hiding at home.

For a split second, fear was what defined our communities.

I remember constantly listening to my dad tell me what to do if he was taken, having to be pulled out of class because my friend was being held at gunpoint by an ICE agent, or seeing videos of citizens being harassed by ICE.  For those moments, I, too, forgot what a community was.

But then, I was reminded.

What became a street I was scared to drive on was now filled with protestors blowing their whistles and cars honking out in support; groceries stores that were once empty became places where people would shop and deliver for those fearing to come out; and restaurants that were on the verge of shutting down became full of people who wanted to support the business, not out of pity, but out of care. It was then that I remembered fear is powerful, but so is our community.

We have proven capable of building ourselves up with support and justice, and we continued to do so even in the hardest of times. And for that, I thank everyone here who has taken the time to listen to me.

I thank the ones who carpooled and helped those who couldn’t drive anywhere due to ICE. I thank the ones who helped with grocery deliveries, and I especially thank the ones who are still protesting today. It’s hard to learn how to focus on others, but I never said it was impossible.

So, let’s continue to be the community that others wish to be, and those communities will follow behind us and learn as well. After all, this isn’t just the Columbia Heights fight; it’s our country’s as well. 

Justin Cajamarca:

Good evening, everyone. My name is Justin Cajamarca Ayora and I’m a senior at Columbia Heights High School. My family and I have been a part of the Columbia Heights School District, going back 18 years with my older sister, and will continue with my younger sisters in 4th grade.

As a kid, I always wondered why my parents sent me to school in Columbia Heights rather than a school in my hometown of Minneapolis. It wasn’t until middle school that I knew why. It was 2020 when COVID-19 hit. Although many of us changed during the two years of quarantine, one thing stayed the same. The sense of community we had with each other. It was during this time that I realized that in times of adversity, Columbia Heights always came back stronger.

And these past 4 months have been no exception to that. When we think about what happened in our community, it sounds like something you would just find on Instagram, maybe leave a comment, and then go about the rest of the day. But that’s not what this was.

The panic and fear were real.

Students stopped coming to school, families were separated, and everything normal in life changed overnight. What a weird time we live in: a time where something so normal like going to school suddenly feels risky.

But in the middle of that uncertainty, something else was happening too. Behind the scenes, there were people making sure students got what they needed safely. Families stood up for each other every day by making food deliveries, patrolling school grounds, and students were even giving rides to each other because everyone belongs and succeeds in Heights.

Yesterday, I had the opportunity to attend a cocktail party at the Minneapolis Club. Don’t worry—I didn’t have anything to drink. At the event were many award-winning news reporters from all over the country. One particular reporter shared with me that they travelled to Ireland for a story but were scared to share that they were from the U.S. But as soon as they mentioned they were from Minneapolis, suddenly they started condemning the tragedies going on in Columbia Heights.

But not just that. They also shared their appreciation to all the people who stood up for their neighbors—to all of you, who, in times of injustice, showed up and fought for what’s right.

When I heard this story, I felt proud and honored that I was and am a part of this community. Because we can’t always control situations like this. We can’t always stop them. But we can decide what kind of person we’re going to be when things like this happen.

We can ignore it. Or we can pay attention. We can stay comfortable. Or we can step up. We can assume someone else will help. Or we can be that help.

So, I want to thank those who attended protests, those who delivered meals, those who patrolled streets and those who spoke out for those who can’t. I want to thank everybody here for choosing the future of this world.

As we move forward, don’t just hear this and move on. Let it actually mean something. Pay attention to what’s happening around you. Be someone others can rely on. Do something, even if it feels small. Because moments like this don’t just define what’s happening around us—they define who we choose to be.

And everybody chose to be heroes. Thank you.