After a visit to the Philadelphia Flower Show, Nick Elizalde’s mom issues a plea to the school district: ‘Don’t close Lankenau’

For the last three years, my life has been defined by the tragedy of my son’s murder and the management of the indescribable pain I feel every moment. For everyone else, time continues normally. For me, time simultaneously stands still, moves like molasses, or flies by in a blur.

I’ve been dreading 2026 for a while — it would have been Nick’s senior year at W.B. Saul High School. He’d have turned 18 last October. He’d have a driver’s license. He’d be looking forward to senior prom and graduation. But instead, this June, we’ll attend the trial for his murder, nearly four years later, and after constant delays.

For all this time, I’ve been able to picture Nick with his classmates at Saul, having the time of his life. But once June comes, where will I picture him? His life, as it was when he was killed, will be over. I cannot explain the level of distress this causes me. Who and where would my son be?

In an effort to manage this pain, I made the decision to attend the Philadelphia Flower Show this year, so that I could see what Nick’s classmates had on display before they graduate. It’s hard for me to watch the Saul kids continue on without Nick, but it also provides me a brief, albeit painful, respite and sense of pride to watch them shine — and to imagine him with them.

I was impressed and deeply moved by the homage to the Lenni Lenape. I could feel Nick’s Indigenous pride as I marveled at what his classmates had created.

A man and woman were next to me, very engaged in the Saul exhibit, reading all of the signs. The man said, “The two high school exhibits”— Saul and Lankenau — “are the best ones here.” As a Saul mother and a former Philadelphia high school teacher, I felt a surge of maternal pride upon hearing that.

I had just walked over from the Lankenau Environmental Science Magnet High School display, which was phenomenal. It was colorful and intimate. I especially loved the border of flowers in cinderblocks. It reminded me of how beauty pushes through hardness and barriers that are meant to suppress.

Standing in front of the display, I saw three Lankenau students handing out fliers, which broke my heart. What a surreal feeling it was to stand in front of such a marvelous, artistic display of the natural world, next to some of its creators, as they asked people for help to save their school from closure. What a shortsighted decision to close Lankenau — a treasure in the “green lung” of the city.

I am now an environmental graduate student at the University of Montana. My research was born from Nick’s deep love of Mother Earth, his exemplary stewardship of nature, his murder, and my experience of teaching high school in Philadelphia. Why would we close a school in one of what feels like extremely limited green spaces in a densely populated, urban area?

Scientific literature is saturated with the physical and mental health benefits of green and blue space exposure. The literature also details the correlation between tree canopy and lower crime rates. Nature deficit is real, and it has detrimental consequences, especially for our youth. The built environment and the omnipresence of screens have affected our youth in ways most people who do not interact with kids in an educational setting cannot understand.

It therefore baffles me that a school in such an idyllic setting for place-based learning — where socioemotional learning can have greater impact because of the healing effect of natural settings on our nervous systems — is considered expendable.

Last year, I taught undergraduate classes in Montana. We took a field trip to Yellowstone National Park for three days, and I was amazed at the level of comfort the students had with wilderness, teamwork, wayfinding, and so much more.

Overall, they had knowledge about so many things that completely bewilder me — it was simultaneously embarrassing and inspirational. I wondered what our Philadelphia youth might feel like if more of them had greater access to the natural world, and, in turn, what would our society look like when they come of age and contribute to the community.

There are so few places like Lankenau; it is a travesty that we are even thinking about closing such a distinctive institution.

We have lost so many young lives to gun violence. And those left behind are in a state of collective yet disenfranchised grief that permeates daily life in unseen but troubling ways. After Nick was killed, students posted wishes for themselves, each other, and society on the wall of Roxborough High School. So many wished for an end to gun violence and living in fear. One wished he would live to see age 25.

» READ MORE: Our children are killing each other, and all of us must do something about it | Opinion

When we lost Nick, our city lost a true conservationist and a pure soul. Lankenau graduates students who can help to fill that gap, left by all of our murdered loved ones and their stolen potential.

I urge everyone, Philadelphia resident or not, to join the fight for Lankenau and all the schools slated to close. If you believe that every child deserves a chance, now is the time to act on that belief.

One of the Lankenau students at the Flower Show told me they are “trying to make noise.” Let’s not put that burden on our youth, or solely on the shoulders of those most affected. Whoever you are — show up, make noise.

A magnet school in a beautiful, natural setting is violence prevention, a soothing balm, and a safe haven from the chaos of life. The imam at Nick’s janaza read an African proverb: “The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth.”

We are the village, and we must embrace our children.

Meredith Elizalde is Nick’s mom. A former Philadelphia high school teacher, she is currently a graduate student at the University of Montana.