Iif you are reading this, chances are you have survived, witnessed, or somehow experienced a school shooting, which is so common in the United States that I felt compelled to write this essay. I myself have experienced two school shootings: first in Parkland, Florida, when I was 12 years old, and then at Brown University when I was 20 years old. When my university met to deal with the tragedy we experienced on December 13, 2025, I found that sharing my previous experiences helped my peers understand and also made me feel better in the process.
Since I was 13 years old, I have been dedicated to fighting to stop gun violence. Now I hope that by sharing what I have learned in the past eight years and being shot twice at school, maybe not one person will feel so alone. If you are in a bad situation to be able to relate to what I went through, I hope these five tips will bring you comfort.
1. Living looks different for everyone
When I speak publicly about my experiences, people tend to ask if I really “qualify” as a lifeguard. This is a rhetorical question. When I was 12 years old, I was sitting outside in a middle school near Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School—a few hundred meters from where a former student killed 17 people. Outside, I heard gunshots coming from the building and saw first responders rushing to the scene. Almost immediately – while we were still at school under lockdown – I started seeing videos of photos shared on social networks. I later developed post-traumatic stress disorder, which I still suffer from today. Some people use the word the survivor describe people who were physically injured or in the same room as the shooter, but everyone – including survivors themselves – has a very different understanding of what it means to “survive” a traumatic event. The truth is that gun violence, especially school shootings, has a negative impact that can extend to the whole community. For me, being a survivor of a school shooting means experiencing it first hand in my school community. No matter what this definition looks like to you, no one needs a detailed explanation.
2. Trauma Returns in Unusual Ways
I believe it is important to remember that regardless of whether you experience PTSD, you have still experienced a very traumatic event. In the media, this trauma is often portrayed as involving flashbacks or violent reactions to triggers, but real life is more complex. Often, the ways in which trauma manifests itself are not easy to recognize. Sure, I experience hyperactivity, awe, and flashbacks when I hear fireworks, but my trauma has changed my life in subtle ways too, and in ways that can feel embarrassing or “stupid.” I’ve noticed that I tend to stress a lot about shootings in the news, and I’ll go so far as to watch past coverage of the Parkland shooting. In restaurants, I try to sit with my back against the wall. I prefer to sleep facing my door, just in case someone breaks in and I need to answer. Sometimes I go through random waves of intense emotions, but I try to channel them to get to something else going on in my life (“I’m just sleepless”; “I’m on my period”). The most common symptom I find is the need to always be ready. In any situation, my brain goes through the hypothetical shooting that could happen at any moment and plans how I should react. This happens all day, every day, which means that unfortunately I’m completely used to it. On the bright side, I have learned how to push these thoughts to my subconscious. But I still mention them because it is important to be clear about how trauma can be in its effects from time to time. I’m not saying all of this to suggest that surviving a school shooting sets you up for a life of suffering, but rather to make you realize that all of these experiences and more are to be expected—and if you’re going through this too, you may benefit from therapy or other professional treatment. PTSD, and trauma in general, can feel like a stigmatizing experience, but it is not only a normal response to such an event but also an experience shared by others. You are not alone.
3. Move Beyond “Why Me?”
These questions have haunted me for more than eight years: Why did all this happen to me? Why was my childhood innocence destroyed in such a violent and swift way? How did this happen to me twice, the second time in my favorite place? Why did the world decide to bring this to me? I know these questions don’t have logical answers, however the idea that I don’t deserve what I’ve been through is something that I—and maybe you—have found myself pondering for a very long time. Even though most people in my generation are acutely aware of the rise in school shootings, you still don’t think it’s going to happen to you until it happens. Asking these kinds of questions is fair and understandable, but it is important not to get lost in them. There have been times when my anger at the world has led me down the path of disbelief and failure, when I convinced myself that karma, fate, or maybe even God intended to make me suffer. What helped me escape this endless cycle of frustration and hopelessness was to shift my focus to the systemic violence plaguing our country, and questions about how I could help improve the situation for my fellow Americans. I continue to ground myself in the fact that school shootings don’t have to be our norm, and it didn’t happen to me because of who I am as an individual, but because I grew up in America. This truth is still painful, but it allows more room for hope and optimism than “Why me?” forever will. Those who wish the status quo are counting on us to stop reducing gun violence. So it is an act of resistance to maintain hope in the face of trauma.
Although surviving a school shooting is still an extremely rare event, it has become an all too common occurrence in the lives of young Americans. Living can feel very isolating. Although Parkland and Brown all came together as a community in a good way, somehow I still felt lonely. Whenever I was out in public, I was disgusted by people who seemed to be able to go about their lives without the intense attention that had become my new normal. I would be confused by my parents and the therapist, who clearly cared about what I was going through but never saw what I did. What helped me finally overcome this negative feeling was meeting survivors from different communities outside of my own. These were people from Michigan, Texas, and beyond who all shared my grief, trauma, and anger. To this day, I am still close to many of those in our small but tight-knit community of school shooting survivors who are involved in advocacy work. If activism isn’t your preferred way of coping, social media and support groups have connected me to many other survivors of school shootings. These are the friends I turn to in difficult times—after a murder, like when Charlie Kirk was killed, or in anticipation of the Fourth of July, when we’re all anticipating the sound of fireworks.
5. Give yourself Grace
It can be hard for people who haven’t experienced a school shooting to understand how stressful everyday life can be when you’re constantly on the alert or worried about your own safety. The hardest mental block for me has had to do with managing my own expectations. Sustained levels of extreme care take a physical tax which often go undiagnosed, contributing to everything from fatigue to poor academic performance and even chronic pain. This is related to the oft-cited line of creating your “new normal,” and as much as the term used to get me excited, it’s absolutely true. Humans are not meant to endure the kind of suffering that a school shooting brings, and it would be unfair to expect yourself to return to your previous level of performance. Instead of seeing my recovery as a normal thing that will improve over time, I’ve learned that life can be more fun and fulfilling if I don’t hold myself to unrealistic standards. I have good days and bad days, days when I rarely think about shooting and days when I take everything for no reason. To learn to live with your trauma, it is important to be gentle with your mind and body.
If I had read an article like this when I was 12, I’d like to think I could have saved myself some time trying to figure out how to move forward. However, I also want to acknowledge the absurdity that school shooting response guidance is necessary in the first place. After the Parkland attack, I became increasingly hostile to anyone who continued to act “normal” despite the shock of the world I had just endured. How could the world go on when our government didn’t turn a blind eye to a young man who killed 17 people in less than seven minutes in a school building? How did the media and politicians move on so quickly after the manhunt for the Brown University shooter reached its bitter end? I used to think of this frustration as a response to trauma, but now I see that there is a more subtle reason behind my anger: This country has abandoned those of us facing gun violence.
Our politicians have never experienced the practice of closing schools every month, or felt the unique fear of sitting in a classroom not knowing if your next time will be your last. I hate that it takes life-changing trauma for people to feel compelled to speak out against gun violence. No more children should be shot in schools at the expense of irresponsible gun regulations. Addressing gun violence in the United States provides not only a major political response, but also a cultural reset. As Americans, why must we value the Second Amendment over our children, our future? Why should there be a gun culture? so engrained in our national identity? And why must we remain complacent about the solvable scourge of gun violence? I hope that one day soon, the advice I have given you may become obsolete.
