Nothing in my experience as a child, adult or parent could help me fully appreciate the depth of anxiety expressed by the 15 student-panelists at a community forum on March 6 at Perry High School. To summarize the two-hour event does not do justice to the dialogue's value and impact. But in short, these young people loudly and collectively said:

Adults must take sustained action to make our schools and our neighborhoods safe; please let us progress to adulthood without fear of being shot.

The angst that colored my late-1960s high school experience in an urban school setting and that of my two children, who recently succeeded safely through high school in the North Hills, was not even remotely close in emotional pain to that experienced by the kids at Perry High.

I have no way of understanding how one copes each day fearing for one's safety or that of close friends and family. But I am certain it is tragic to allow fear to interfere with the social, academic and personal development of young people.

The audience of adults at the forum, numbering a little more than 100, applauded often. Many, like myself, were part of community organizations that wanted to learn but also to inform the students about programs available to them. Some passionately spoke of their initiatives, and a few of the young people, truly appreciative of the offerings, indicated interest in knowing more. I refrained from making such a contribution because as a guest from outside the neighborhoods that make up the Perry High School family, I sensed that Perry students were asking for something deeper, something more potent.

The questions posed to the adults, especially those from law enforcement, ranged from how to detect hidden guns and stop them from being fired, to the extreme stress involved in offering information to the police -- "snitching" in street talk. Despite adult assurances that those who provided information could be protected and that they should be proud of "doing the right thing," the anxiety over this issue was palpable. Several young people passionately emphasized how they feared for the lives of their family members if they provided information about crimes, especially those involving violence.

When I left I had more questions than answers and no plan of action. All I could do was send an e-mail to the principal of Perry High School to say how smart, insightful, courageous and inspiring his students were. And to say that if I could help, please tell me how.

The fact remains that hundreds of young people across our region live in fear as they walk to and from school and go about their daily lives. Now and then, metal detectors and security professionals appear at school, but they only keep the "honest people honest;" guns and drugs infiltrate our school buildings every day, the Perry students observed.

While adults appropriately debate how to change a culture wracked with violence, the reality for Perry's students does not change. Only when all responsible adults, irrespective of their Zip codes, join the young people who daily face the reality of gun-related violence can we make effective and sustainable improvements. Caring about all children is not just a clever title of a book or a call to action, it should be a way of life.

Children and young adults living in violence-wracked neighborhoods, and their parents, need support. Constructively reminding parents about their responsibilities is not enough to solve the immediate issue facing students such as those at Perry High School. But when you inventory the abundance of talent, wisdom, wealth, leadership and influence in our region, it ought to produce a glass-half-full confidence in the possibility of more effectively leveraging our assets to address the safety of all of our neighborhoods, and all of our neighbors.

So who will convene us and where do we show up to demonstrate our resolve?