To teens who Juul:

Hey, guys. We thought this was an area where you all had us beat, hands-down.

For years, cigarette smoking has been falling among high-school students. In fact, it’s fallen to nearly half of what it was when most of your parents were in high school. Thank goodness your generation realized what a nasty and unhealthy habit it is.

But you all have latched onto e-cigarettes -- vaping or Juuling -- because you think it’s safer than the old cancer sticks.

E-cigarette use grew 900 percent among high school students from 2011 to 2015, according to a recent report by the U.S. Surgeon General. In 2015, more than a quarter of students in grades 6 through 12 said they had tried e-cigarettes, along with more than a third of young adults.

Adults didn’t really see this coming, but now we’re all talking about it.

We know that’s not a new USB flash drive. It looks like one, and it even plugs into a laptop to charge, but that device is a way to get a nicotine fix. You carry those pocket-size vaporizers and swap out flavored cartridges that deliver a nicotine hit without tobacco. We’ve heard about the kids who sit in the back of the class sneaking puffs while an unsuspecting teacher lectures. There are middle- and high-school bathrooms filled with vapor between classes. It seems like everyone is doing it, right?

After all, it’s so easy to get. You can lie about your age and buy it online, or go on Snapchat or Instagram and find someone who will sell it to you. We know there’s a local teenager running around like a celebrity, hawking cartridges. But think about this for a minute: Who is trying to convince you that this new kind of smoking is safer? Could it be the same people who will profit from creating a new generation of nicotine addicts? Why do they sell flavors like “gummy bear” and “cotton candy”? Who do you think they are targeting?

The younger you get hooked on nicotine, the longer you’ll be a paying customer. Some research shows that many teens believe they are smoking a “nicotine-free” product. The industry makes its flavored juices in a range of nicotine concentrations, but you have no way of verifying how much you may be getting. And nicotine isn’t the only danger.

There isn’t a huge body of research on the health impacts of vaping on teens, because it’s a relatively new product, having landed in U.S. markets in 2007. But we’re starting to see research emerging. Guess what? These e-cigs are far from harmless.

The vapors you inhale can affect your immune system, some studies show. Teenage vapers are starting to develop “smoker’s cough,” chronic bronchitis and bloody sores in their mouths and throats that are slow to heal.

More data suggests that e-cig vapors may also contain cancer-causing chemicals. There are hundreds of unregulated brands, and thousands of flavors. A cartridge of “juice,” the liquid that goes inside the device, can contain toxic metals, along with the nicotine, propylene glycol, solvents and flavors. Dripping or super-heating the juice can transform chemicals into toxic, carcinogenic ones.

Dr. Nadeem Ahmed, a pulmonary and critical care specialist at St. Anthony’s Health Center in Alton, Illinois, talks to his patients every day about e-cigs. He shared information about recent studies that looked at the lungs of smokers, e-cig users and nonsmokers, and found that e-cig users have a lot more inflammation and inflammatory proteins than nonsmokers.

The vapor itself, even without tobacco, causes inflammation.

Teens who vape are six times more likely to try cigarette smoking than those who have never vaped, research suggests. And Dr. Ahmed said that people don’t generally just abuse one substance.

It’s really hard to quit nicotine. We’ve seen our parents, our friends, our partners struggle to give it up. If you can’t make it through a school day without Juuling, your body is already addicted to a chemical. When you get addicted to nicotine, you can suffer withdrawal symptoms when you try to quit. That means you’re buying more and smoking more.

The teenage brain is primed to get hooked on chemicals more quickly than the adult brain.

A little more than a decade ago, e-cigs looked like the way smokers would be able to kick a habit proven to be hazardous to their health. We didn’t think it would become a way to threaten the progress we’ve made on teenage smoking.

We’ve been so worried about keeping you away from opioids or painkillers or illegal drugs that we didn’t think you would stumble into this nasty habit the way that you have. It’s not a good look.

It looks like you’re gambling with your health and getting played so someone can make a buck off of you.

A feel-good story about high-schoolers doing a good deed revealed a stark parenting divide.

I recently wrote a short piece about students at the St. Louis-area Ladue High School raising more than $80,000 for children’s hospitals as part of a months-long fundraising effort. I quoted the co-organizers, who talked about the long hours and passion they put into the project, along with a charity official, who praised the students’ teamwork and commitment to the cause.

For context, I included a sentence noting that it helps fundraising efforts that the district is “well-resourced,” located in one of the wealthiest ZIP codes in the state. When the accomplishment being noted is a large sum of money raised, it makes sense that being situated in a relatively affluent area helps -- to some degree.

A parent, who wished to remain anonymous, responded angrily, upset that this detail was even mentioned. A parent of one of the teenagers quoted, however, responded with great appreciation for the coverage.

While we all want to believe our success is solely a product of our hard work and talent, most of us know that’s rarely the case. Many of us benefit from things we haven’t earned, like the circumstances into which we were born. Some parents are comfortable with their children seeing their accomplishments in that perspective. And anyone wanting to raise resilient children can teach them not to rely on, or expect, unqualified praise.

What was surprising was the reaction of the district.

Bailey Otto, a communications assistant with the Ladue School District, sent a critical email after the piece ran online.

Otto wrote that “the portion of the article where you reference the school district’s ‘well-resourced community’ using one of our ZIP codes is inaccurate. The district serves 10 different municipalities throughout six ZIP codes,” she said, and attached a chart of these ZIP codes and their median incomes. She added that “painting the district in such a broad stroke is inaccurate at best, and it denigrates the hard work of our students by suggesting that they did not have to work as hard to fundraise for the event.”

The attached chart did not offer a breakdown of the ZIP codes of the students who participated in the fundraiser, but rather of the entire district. The district couldn’t say what percentage of the fundraiser’s participants came from its wealthiest corners. Yet its own chart highlights how much wealthier the district’s students are compared to the rest of the state. Every ZIP code was higher than the Missouri median income of $48,173, with half of the ZIP codes showing median incomes of more than $100,000.

It was an odd data set to use to say, essentially, “don’t call us ‘well-resourced.’”

The most unfortunate part of the complaint is that it paints the students as victims in a story about their achievement. What a missed opportunity to talk about local economic realities and disparities.

Missouri’s most recent data indicate that 11 percent of students in Ladue High School are eligible for free or reduced-price lunch, the most commonly used marker for the level of poverty in a district. That percentage is among the lowest of public high schools in the state.

It’s not a stretch to say that raising the same amount of money in an impoverished district would be harder than in one of the state’s wealthiest. Should this logical fact take away from anyone’s sense of worth or accomplishment?

It shouldn’t.

When an objectively affluent district complains about a mention of its socioeconomic advantage -- even when talking about the ability of students to raise money -- it’s not doing the kids any favors.

Jill Farmer, whose daughter participated in the fundraiser, said she didn’t find the sentences in question unfair. While the district has more economic diversity than most people assume, “it’s fair to say kids with resources can sometimes tap those resources more easily,” she said. “To point that out doesn’t automatically deduct the hard work -- the blood, sweat and tears -- that went into raising that money.”

She shared a historically American value that those who have much ought to do much. So, when did wealthy Americans get so fragile?

It may have something to do with the fact that the haves and have-nots in America live increasingly segregated lives. Those comfortably in the middle class, or higher, may have an intellectual idea of what it means to be poor in America, but they have no clue of what the daily reality looks like for many families. How many of us from middle- or upper-class backgrounds have spent even one entire day in an “under-resourced” school -- one in which the majority of students cannot afford to pay $2 for school lunch, let alone commit to raising hundreds for a charity fundraiser?

Students from an impoverished district could spend just as many hours, with the same level of commitment, and would face a much harder challenge raising that sum of money.

The original story, which noted that this school raised the most money in the state, also noted that a high school in Carmel, Indiana raised the most money in the country -- bringing in more than $400,000. One of the organizers pointed out to me that the Indiana high school is far bigger than hers.

It can be easier to see the advantages that others bring to the table than it is to admit our own.

In the fairy tale, it took a small child to cry out that the emperor had no clothes.

In our real-life horror story, it’s teenagers who are spitting truth to power. We adults watching them are holding our breath. Is this what it’s finally going to take? After we tuned out the pain of parents whose babies were slaughtered in classrooms, will we listen as the kids who survived the Stoneman Douglas High School shooting march and beg for their lives?

You better believe America is listening.

It’s the honesty, moral clarity and raw emotion of these students’ message that is a gut punch: Their friends were murdered. They nearly died. They want action.

“The people in the government who are voted into power are lying to us,” survivor Emma Gonzalez said in a speech that shook the nation. “And us kids seem to be the only ones who notice and are prepared to call BS.”

Any parent who has argued with a teenager can tell those politicians what they’re up against.

Teenagers own righteous indignation. They don’t believe you when you tell them something can’t be done. They have a fierce loyalty to their friends. And most of all, teenagers have amazing BS detectors. They can spot a phony so easily because they spend most of their days in high schools surrounded by preening and posing.

These kids couldn’t bear to hear the phonies start their “thoughts and prayers” chorus after the nightmare they escaped.

Parkland Strong decided Never Again.

We should get familiar with some of their names: Emma “We call BS” Gonzalez, David Hogg, Sarah Chadwick, Cameron Kasky, Delaney Tarr, Jaclyn Corin, Alfonso Calderon. Some of them are too young to vote, but they are changing the debate. They’ve focused their grief into fighting for gun reforms that the vast majority of Americans support, like universal background checks.

And they’ve given the cause a voice that should ring awfully close to home for any parent.

Unbelievably, a right-wing smear campaign has started against these young survivors. Their principal had to issue a statement confirming they are his students and not paid crisis actors, like nutjob conspiracy theorists have alleged.

Hey, kids: They’re freaking out because they’re scared you might actually change things.

These survivors traveled to Tallahassee and watched while Republican lawmakers refused to even consider a bill that would ban assault weapons, like the one used to murder their friends. They’re planning a nationwide demonstration, a March for Our Lives, on March 24.

I hope they focus on a date even more critical than that march: Tuesday, Nov. 6, around 250 days from now. I hope they ask groups like the League of Women Voters about countering voter-suppression tactics, and that they create massive voter registration drives and make plans on how to get voters to the polls.

This is Generation Z, which makes up a quarter of the U.S. population. They are a larger cohort than the baby boomers or millennials. They will be a tsunami at the polls when they hit 18, but they are realizing their power even before that.

It’s because they know firsthand how outrageous it is that an expelled teenager could legally purchase a semiautomatic weapon that killed 17 of their classmates and faculty. They know how much the NRA donates to their legislators. They’ll find out that President Trump’s budget proposal cuts $12 million from existing background check systems. They may already know that Trump signed the repeal of an Obama regulation after Sandy Hook that would have kept some mentally ill citizens from buying guns.

They are fighting in the immediate aftermath of trauma. They are fighting alongside the memory of their friends. They can spot a phony a mile away.

You know who’s listening and watching them even more closely than those hoping they fail? Mothers ready to defend them, like Rebecca Kerley, a kindergarten teacher in suburban St. Louis whose daughter is a junior in high school. Kerley received a terrifying text from her last week when rumors of a threat floated around the high school, causing panic. School officials determined it was not a credible threat, but that didn’t ease the fears of many students and parents so soon in the aftermath of a mass school shooting.

“They’re not doing enough to keep us safe,” Kerley’s daughter said. “Something else needs to be done. I shouldn’t be scared to go to school every day.”

Kerley, who’s had to practice intruder drills with her 5-year-old students, knows this is true. She has her eyes on the students around the country stepping up and saying “enough.” She knows this constant fear of mayhem and death in schools is not OK. None of this is OK.

These high-schoolers’ bravery will make us braver. They are inspiring us to speak louder and demand action. We can’t protect them in their classrooms, but we can defend them from the trolls and internet bullies trying to tear them down.

Right now, these teenagers have our attention. Right now, they are getting headlines.

We won’t let their voices fade.

Get ready, NRA-bought politicians: They can see you.

And they’re calling you out.