Student Union Strikes Against Draconian Gaming Ban

January 3, 2025—the day Stuy came crashing down. It was business as usual on the first Friday after winter break, and my fellow students and I were ready to enjoy our well-deserved weekend. Our dreams were soon crushed, though. When I heard Principal Seung Yu’s voice boom over the static crackling of the PA system, I knew something was awry. His words are etched into my memory, the scene looping again and again like a GIF.

“Students and faculty of Stuyvesant High School, I solemnly address you today because you all have forced my hand on this issue,” he began. “I gave you all a choice: put down the games, and all would be well.” Each sentence started with a deep inhalation and ended with a massive sigh, just like when my parents scolded me for failing all my tests (completely unrelated to Block Blast, I promise). 

“But no, NO, NO! That’s too hard for you, it seems. You’d swear all of Stuyvesant has been turned into zombies! I walk down the halls and everybody’s just tapping and tapping on their phones, rambling about blasting blocks or whatever! I’ve peered into classrooms, and what do I see? The teacher flexing their high score to their students,” Principal Yu continued. A murmur of agreement spread across the room at his scarily accurate remarks—you’d swear he was a psychic or something. Our teacher, Dr. Battle, who had been showing off how he was ranked in the top 100 internationally in trophies, dropped his phone at that last sentence. His hand moved to cover his mouth as he scrambled to erase the “Class Trophy” and “Class Score” leaderboards from the blackboard. 

Principal Yu’s anger was palpable at this point—the whole class was gulping, a sense of shared understanding between us. “I warned you all in December, but it seems that my warnings have gone unheeded. Our grades have been slipping, and with finals coming up, I cannot afford to let Stuyvesant’s reputation plummet any further. Therefore, with the power vested in me by the Department of Education, I hereby enact a complete ban on Block Blast and Brawl Stars within the premises of Stuyvesant High School,” he declared.

 As those words escaped his mouth, my—no—our world stopped. All at once, my entire class fell to their knees, their gameplay having just been cut off by Principal Yu’s blockade. Tears in their eyes, my classmates switched to cellular data, only to realize he had managed to block it as well. I slammed my fist on the table, feeling it dent in my moment of rage. 

 “I will take no complaints. Thank you, and have a fabulous Friday, Stuy!” he practically yelled. I could hear every rage-filled inhale and each callous syllable as he took away my beloved games, leaving my heart empty and my soul yearning. 

“Guys! Are we just going to let him do this to us? I know my rights!” I yelled out as the class nodded and whispered to each other. 

“Yeah! The Student Union will do something about this!” a girl whose face I was seeing 

for the first time said. I’m pretty sure she had the highest score in the class, somewhere around a million. I doubt anyone could get higher without some kind of divine intervention, to be honest. 

“Come on, who’s with me? Let’s get our games back, Stuy! Pro brawlentia, atque blastentia, right?” I said, righteous fury welling up in my stomach. I saw my classmates think about it, then start clapping. I grabbed and flattened one of the cardboard boxes in the back of the room, messily scribbling “NO GAME RESTRICTION WITHOUT REPRESENTATION!” on it. Holding it up high, I led my class to the Student Union room. 

As we moved through the halls, we watched hundreds of like-minded students gather. The chorus kids and Stuy Acapella were leading a group of students in singing a protest song, Stuy Brawl members were holding up similarly shoddy protest signs, and the Speech and Debaters were soapboxing to gain support. Seeing this united student movement made my heart swell with Stuy pride, though our attention soon shifted; the Student Union door dramatically swung open, and Student Union President Soupper Sell, our knight in shining armor, stepped out. The raucous crowd quickly quieted to barely louder than a whisper as she began her address.

“My fellow students, I understand your pain. I myself was in the middle of a nearly two hundred million score run, only for Principal Yu to implement his cruel and unjust ban,” Sell announced. Immediately, the crowd exploded into gasps of admiration, then cheers, almost like attendees of a Michael Jackson concert.

“T-two hundred million?!? By joves, President Sell is truly the greatest! Three cheers for the President,” someone said next to me, their eyes twinkling. 

She put her hands out and waved the crowd down, continuing her speech. “And I’ll tell you what we will do, my students! In response to this, we, the Student Union, see no other choice than to respond with full force. Yes, it’s time to put the union in the Student Union and strike for our right to brawl and blast! Give us Brawl Stars, give us fire,” she cried passionately, thrusting a fist in the air.

“Give us Block Blast, or you’ll retire!” we all shouted back, creating a new battle cry that we latched onto like a concert crowd. We marched as one, repeating it louder and louder as we neared Principal Yu’s office like a tidal wave. 

We swayed to and fro, slamming into his grand entryway with the might of our bodies. Each time we impacted it, shards of wood flew off, just as rocks shatter when you use your ult in Brawl Stars. Finally, with a triumphant heave, we forced the door open and began encircling a terrified Principal Yu. 

“Your tyranny has gone on long enough! Return Block Blast and Brawl Stars, or we’ll burn Stuy to the ground!” I yelled, applause and cheers filling the room as Principal Yu threw up his hands in surrender. He pressed an ominous red button on his table and sat down nervously. We were like kids on Christmas: hope in our hearts and pure elation in our eyes. I scrambled to grab my phone and unlock it, nearly dropping it three times with how much my hands were shaking. The room quieted as everybody feverishly tapped their screens with bated breath, waiting to see if the games would load. Suddenly, everybody broke down with joy, tears streaming down all our faces. I had done it! We had done it! I stared deeply into my screen, taking in each sweet pixel. Oh, Block Blast, how I’ve missed you! 

And so, with our demands met, our ragtag mob of students dispersed, making like a tree and leaving. I guess the moral of this story is that just like in Brawl Stars, friendship and determination can solve any issue.