My school is closed until 2024. It feels like we have been forgotten.

What does Frankford mean to you?

That was the question asked of our students in their English classes recently after Frankford High School was closed in April because of damaged asbestos and other environmental issues that have gone ignored for decades at our school.

“Frankford is home,” they wrote. “Frankford is family.” “Frankford is community.” “Frankford is opportunity.”

Those are just some of the responses.

When I reflect on what Frankford means to me, I have so many feelings. To me, Frankford is my home away from home. Frankford is my family, my passion. Frankford is hope. Frankford is not just a building, it is a legacy.

Frankford is not just a building, it is a legacy.

Now that the School District has announced that Frankford won’t open not just this year but all of next year, it feels like that legacy is being forgotten. And, in the process, destroyed.

The perception of Frankford outside of our walls is that it is just a neighborhood school, a place where kids who don’t get accepted into a special admissions school or a charter school are forced to go. However, if you walk into our school, you will immediately feel that all of those things couldn’t be further from the truth.

Like many schools in the city, we have lost many students to gun violence — just this school year, two Frankford students have been murdered and at least four others have been shot. Many of our students have to deal with the effects of community violence, poverty, homelessness, and food insecurity. As such, our school isn’t just a place kids are forced to go — it’s a haven, an escape.

Frankford is a safe and stable place where students know they are loved and supported, where their emotional needs are met, and where they feel valued. We have shown our students that they matter; regardless of the zip code they come from, they are loved and have limitless potential.

Now that haven — a lifeline for more than 1,000 Philadelphia teenagers — has been taken away when they need it the most.

When our school was told we would be shifting to virtual learning after spring break this year because of asbestos, it felt eerily similar to March 13, 2020, when we were told we would be closed for two weeks for COVID-19, and then didn’t come back for 18 months. Just like in 2020, we went home thinking it would be temporary, then weeks later learned the school would be closed for another year.

The difference this time is that it is just us. No other Philadelphia school is closed until 2024. It is just our kids, our community, and our families who lost the resources we provide here. Our food pantry closed, our community partners relocated, and our students and staff were left with no answers and no direction. Students and families have reached out to us seeking answers, and unfortunately, we do not have any. We have been begging the district for transparency, begging for a plan, and begging for answers.

» READ MORE: Philly teachers and parents from schools closed by asbestos petition the district for better information

The district’s new core values include the words equity, safety, and trust. Those are great values, but not if they are not universal. As a resident of Philadelphia, I see the schools in the city and the discrepancies that exist based on zip code and student demographics. Almost all of our students live below the poverty level, and 90% are students of color.

Schools in the Northeast are receiving new buildings, not because of safety, but to build a “state-of-the-art 21st-century learning facility.” The district’s strategic plan, which was approved on Thursday, just weeks after Frankford was closed, mentions several new construction projects which include new school buildings, renovating buildings, adding modular units to campuses, opening pools, and a new athletic field. It does not mention anything about Frankford High School.

I have always believed actions speak louder than words. In our case, inaction speaks the loudest.

Melissa A. Dunne is the director of school culture at Frankford High School.