In late 2024, with finances tightening, [March for Our Lives] let go five employees — nearly a quarter of the staff. Seeking to refine its mission and funding pitch, the group brought in a consultant who interviewed board members, leadership, and staff, compiling “verbatim comments” from across the organization in a [confidential strategic] report. “We were all so convinced that we were going to rise up and not only crush Trump, but really show how much the youth care what’s going on in society with respect to gun violence,” one comment reads. “That didn’t happen.”
Many of the comments in the report are in tension — they clearly represent individual perspectives, not MFOL’s official views or policies. But themes emerge.
Some participants said the group’s message had become diluted, in part because it weighed in on issues like climate change, abortion, and the humanitarian crisis in Gaza. This detracted from gun violence efforts and hampered fundraising, they said. A few people said MFOL needed to acknowledge that donors respond more to white kids affected by school shootings than to gun violence in marginalized communities. “We don’t utilize the Parkland narrative enough,” one comment reads. “Parkland still brings out a visceral reaction in people. We walked away from the Parkland narrative because people felt we needed to focus on Black and brown communities, but I would not walk away — especially in fundraising rooms.”
According to [former development director Zachary] Ford, it was largely board members who argued that by taking stands on too many causes, the group was turning off donors and abandoning its core purpose. Board members were wary of taking a position on Gaza, for instance, failing to appreciate that silence would harm the group’s credibility with its primary demographic, he said. The divide on Gaza illustrates a broader split that Ford described between staff — whom he characterized as young, assertive, deeply committed to issues of social justice, particularly around race — and the board, which was on the whole older, more buttoned-up, and wary of being divisive. But he stressed that these differences did not lead to the terminations. After the board called for a new direction, sparking concerns that work on behalf of Black and brown communities was in jeopardy, staff accused it of racism. Only then were employees fired, Ford said. …
Former staffers said that the board wanted one-off events that would spotlight the group and its cause, while staff were invested in the steady work of producing long-term results. “It was very clear that the board wanted something splashy, a viral moment, to go back to 2018 and 2019 and have those connections with celebrity, popular culture,” said a former staffer who requested anonymity because of the terms of a severance agreement. In recent years, several of the Parkland survivors who’d garnered public attention left MFOL, though Corin and high-profile board member David Hogg remain. (Hogg’s recent attempt to shake up the Democratic National Committee led to his departure from party leadership.)
The report identifies drawing young people to the group’s cause as another challenge. “We need to think about how to pull Gen Alpha and younger Gen Z-ers in,” reads one comment. “There is a whole generation that does not feel connected to this movement.” Another concern was maintaining authenticity as a youth crusade when so much direct support came from an older demographic, particularly white women. “At one point, 80 percent of our following was middle-aged white women. We focused our message on them, and it was effective,” a comment reads. “That’s when we were raising money.”
— Will Van Sant in They Rallied the Nation After the Parkland School Shooting. Years Later, Their Group Is Floundering.