When no one listens, violence speaks

When rage replaces relationships and silence answers suffering, we all pay the price.

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No person should feel that they need an assault rifle to express their shame, anger, or loss.

With the upsurge of mass trauma across global communities, the ongoing struggles of the pandemic, the intensifying threat of global warming, the rise in U.S. domestic terrorism, and the collapse of countless ecosystems, we are witnessing a parallel surge in historic and collective trauma—trauma that has long been silenced. As St. Thomas, Sheffield, and Johnson (2024) describe this silence as not passive; it has emerged through the cracks of our social, cultural, political, ecological, and economic systems, pushing us toward a profound crisis of human survival.

In this climate of fragmentation, polarization has seeped deeply into private life, shaping behavior and disrupting foundational connections. Nowhere is this more visible than in the lives of children. Increasingly raised in environments marked by disconnection, many are consumed by survival, surrounded by unguarded technology, and severed from nature. They are inundated with information yet lack the opportunity to process it within safe, nurturing environments. Their developmental experience has become decentralized and destabilized.

The COVID-19 pandemic only deepened this reality. National data show that the number of children experiencing two or more Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs) increased in the wake of the pandemic (Crouch, Radcliff, & Probst, 2024). This rise signals not just individual hardship, but a collective shift—a rupture in our capacity to stay connected to ourselves and one another. Over the past three years, milestones in public and private life have signaled this shift: a disconnection so profound that we can no longer hear, let alone respond to, the calls for help around us.

When the cries of a stranger, a loved one, or a peer go unheard, we face more than isolated tragedies—we endure another rupture in the human story. This is collective trauma. And this fragmentation is what makes us vulnerable to further harm.

Each week brings painful reminders. The increase in U.S. domestic terrorism reveals how deeply isolated many young people have become. Youth today often live in digital echo chambers, where the seductive pull of social media replaces real-time human connection. Without meaningful relationships or integrated supports, unprocessed trauma festers, and violent ideation can take root.

In May 2022, the nation was jolted by two mass murders, occurring just two weeks apart. In both cases, 18-year-old perpetrators used social media to forewarn the world—posting manifestos, countdowns, and explicit threats. One even live-streamed the attack. Their behaviors—concerning and increasingly erratic. Yet, no one intervened. These acts, though horrifying, were also desperate calls to be seen, to be witnessed. They laid bare a hunger for acknowledgment that went unmet.

These events underscore a crucial truth: behind each act of mass violence is a moment of shattering—a moment where someone was not met with care but with silence. Each time this happens, it reinforces the message that the world is too numb, too fragmented, too overwhelmed to respond. The cost of this numbness is profound. It leaves those most vulnerable—especially our youth—feeling abandoned and alone.

As we collectively grieve countless mass shootings, including the most televised shootings in Lewiston, Maine (October 2023), and New York City (July 28, 2025), we must ask ourselves: how many more ruptures can we withstand? These tragedies are not isolated—they are symptoms of a deeper, ongoing fracture in our humanity. And they call for more than policy change. They demand cultural reckoning.

No person should feel that they need an assault rifle to express their shame, anger, or loss. Yet, without spaces for connection, reflection, and healing, some will continue to reach for violence as a last resort.

It is time to listen—not just to the headlines, but to the quiet, persistent voices of our children and communities. Their grief, their resilience, and their wisdom must lead us forward. Only by responding to their calls can we begin to rebuild a sense of common humanity and co-create a future rooted in collective healing and hope.

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References

Crouch, E., Radcliff, E., & Probst, J. (2024). Changes in positive childhood experiences during the COVID-19 pandemic. Academic Pediatrics, 24(2), 254–257. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.acap.2023.10.006

Silva, J. R. (2023). Global mass shootings: Comparing the United States against developed and developing countries. International Journal of Comparative and Applied Criminal Justice, 47(4), 317–340. https://doi.org/10.1080/01924036.2023.2201784

St. Thomas, B., Sheffield, M., & Johnson, C. (2024). Collective healing and human suffering: Energizing systems towards collective healing action. Cognella.

The New York Times. (2025, July 29). New York’s gun laws tested after mass shooting in Manhattan. https://www.nytimes.com/2025/07/29/nyregion/new-york-gun-laws-shooting.html