

We’re seeing people who have never been political in their lives saying, “This has to stop!” We’re starting to see some movement at the state and the community level. It shouldn’t be that age matters, but somehow it does. But children tear people’s hearts out more. Now, rather than teenagers, who can talk and get media attention, we’ve gone back to children. It was so powerful when you heard high school juniors and seniors using their voices to demand change. I do agree that this moment feels louder and more powerful than recent moments, even possibly more powerful than Parkland, which was kind of an accelerator after Sandy Hook. Many of us want to scream, as Chuck Schumer did last week, “My God! When are you going to put yourself in these parents’ shoes?” Is this awfulness with young children in Uvalde going to do it? All these scars are holding my heart together. What’s changed is the amount of time between when I’m triggered with memories.

Signs of Dylan are throughout the house, but I’m also very conscious of ensuring that Jake, especially as he has gotten older, has a place in the house. My father recently passed, and I asked Dylan to look after Grandpa. Every morning I kiss his urn and I tell him I love him and miss him. In some respects, it hasn’t changed at all. Coming on 10 years, how has your grief changed? Then, when we talked in 2019, you said the grief came in waves, then stopped, then came again. When we first spoke, you said every morning when you woke up, you had to put the pieces of your broken heart back, piece by piece. I stand ready to do that for any members of the community and, of course, the impacted families. All I can offer is support and a listening ear and, if it’s wanted, guidance on what potential steps are ahead and where to look for help. It’s all about really creating a space for you to find your own pathway and journey through this.

I barely remember the first 48 hours after Dylan’s murder. This is the most difficult time for anyone dealing with this kind of loss. But I want to wait to be in a place where the families are able to receive me. What would you say to the parents in Uvalde about what they are going through?Ī lot of people have been asking me: “When are you going to Texas?” The answer is that I am ready to go at a moment’s notice. You have said that every parent who has to deal with this unthinkable grief does so in a different way. We also spoke about how her grief has transformed and still fuels her 10 years after the loss of her son, what’s next for Sandy Hook Promise, and how you can help make a dent in the problem. I talked with Hockley last week about how she has managed to gain ground in the fight against gun violence and why our lawmakers seemingly have not-though she did reveal what she knows about an imminent vote for stricter federal laws. Their awareness training has helped avert “nine credible school shootings,” she says, and been responsible for countless mental health interventions.Ī site of tribute to the victims of the Sandy Hook Elementary School mass shooting in Newtown, CT, December 2012 EMMANUEL DUNAND/AFP via Getty Images. The organization’s mission has been to go into schools in all 50 states and identify the troubled, alienated, and bullied students who might turn into the next school shooters. The following month, in January 2013, Hockley founded Sandy Hook Promise with Mark Barden, whose son Daniel was also murdered at Sandy Hook, and Tim Makris, the parent of a surviving child. At Dylan’s funeral a week after his murder, Hockley stood in front of her son’s tiny casket and “spoke about the change that was needed, even though I didn’t know what the change was yet,” she told me when we had our first conversation. She had been a marketing director before taking a break to be a full-time mother, but when her 6-year-old was shot to death, a plan emerged to prevent gun violence in America. What is most extraordinary about Hockley-whom I have had the privilege of interviewing twice before-is how she has been able to balance a permanently broken heart with a proactive mission. Almost 10 years ago, her precious son Dylan-she calls him her butterfly because of the way his mild autism made him flap his arms-was one of 20 children and six teachers murdered at Sandy Hook Elementary School in tree-lined Newtown, Connecticut. If anyone, tragically, knows what the parents who lost children in the horrendous massacre in Uvalde, Texas, are feeling, it is Nicole Hockley.
