It was my senior year of high school, 1989, and the air was electric. We were almost there—the finish line was in sight. Every hallway on the first floor buzzed with plans and dreams. College, the military, finding our first real jobs—it all felt so close we could taste it. That stage we would soon walk across wasn’t just a milestone; it was a symbol of our futures taking flight.
Then, one Monday morning, everything changed.
The halls went silent. Tears streamed down the faces of friends who, just days earlier, were filled with anticipation. Shock hung in the air like a fog. Over the weekend, one of our classmates—our friend—had been shot and killed.
This was before the daily headlines of school shootings. Before the internet could amplify a tragedy in seconds. There was no CNN, no MSNBC, no national outcry. Just a group of stunned high schoolers trying to make sense of the loss, trying to hold one another up.
Fast forward 35 years: it’s now 2025. And gun violence hasn’t faded into the background—it’s intensified.
In the U.S. alone, 1,171 teenagers aged 12–17 were shot and killed in 2024. Gun violence is no longer just a crisis—it’s a human rights issue. It’s so pervasive, so devastating, that an entire month—June—has been dedicated to honoring victims, uplifting survivors, and mobilizing communities.
June is Gun Violence Awareness Month, marked by advocacy, education, and remembrance.
The first Friday is National Gun Violence Awareness Day, a time when people across the country “Wear Orange” in honor of lives lost and in solidarity with those still fighting. The “Wear Orange” Campaign was inspired by the life of Hadiya Pendleton.
So why do we need a month?
Because in 2023, nearly 47,000 people died due to gun-related injuries. That includes homicides, suicides, accidental discharges, and more. And while it’s a slight drop from the staggering 48,830 deaths in 2022, the fact remains: gun violence is the leading cause of death for children and teens ages 1 to 17 in the U.S.
Let that sink in.
And the burden isn’t equally shared. In 2022, Black male teens and young adults (15–34)—just 2% of the U.S. population—accounted for 34% of all gun homicides. In the same year, Black children and teens had a gun death rate 18 times higher than their white peers.
We know what works. Community Violence Intervention (CVI) programs—led by community members, guided by research—have been highly effective in reducing gun violence in some of the hardest-hit areas. These initiatives save lives. But despite their success, they continue to suffer from underfunding and political neglect.
Just as momentum was building and communities were beginning to feel relief, federal funding was cut. The Office of Gun Violence Prevention, a critical part of coordinating the national response, was shut down. Even the latest reconciliation bill includes proposals to deregulate gun silencers—a move that defies logic and public safety.
Rather than passing life-saving laws like:
- Ethan’s Law (requiring safe firearm storage),
- The Break the Cycle of Violence Act, or
- Universal background checks,
…some members of Congress are pushing legislation that mandates national concealed carry, regardless of individual state laws. That’s not prevention—that’s escalation.
So when people ask me why I do this work, why I don’t stop…
Let me take you back—thirty years after my high school friend was murdered, just two months after I began serving as a Campaign Manager to End Gun Violence, my cousin was found dead. Another gun. Another loss. Another hole in my heart.
This work is not a job—it’s a calling. It’s a mission. And it’s personal.
This June, I’ll be wearing orange. Not just for my friend. Not just for my cousin. But for every life that should still be here, and for every community fighting to protect the next generation.
We don’t need more thoughts and prayers. We need action. We need accountability. And we need it now.