For more than a decade, photographer Kathy Shorr has dedicated herself to chronicling one of the most painful and recurring crises in modern American life. Over the course of 13 years, Shorr has traversed the country, listening to, engaging with, and photographing individuals whose lives have been irreversibly altered by the reality of gun violence. Her latest endeavor marks the completion of the third and final installment of an exhaustive trilogy, a poignant body of work titled SHOT: We the School Community.
This powerful photographic project shifts its focus squarely onto the students, parents, teachers, and broader community members who have been forced to navigate the aftermath of school shootings. Spanning elementary schools, high schools, and university campuses across the United States, Shorr’s ongoing project reveals an unsettling and universal truth about contemporary society. As Shorr explains, the sweeping nature of the crisis across diverse educational tiers exposes a devastating reality: no one is truly safe from gun violence in American schools, nor seemingly anywhere else in the country.
The comprehensive scope of the project touches communities that have become tragic touchstones in the national consciousness. Among the locations documented by Shorr are Oxford High School in Michigan; Robb Elementary School in Uvalde, Texas; Michigan State University; Apalachee High School in Winder, Georgia; The Covenant School in Nashville, Tennessee; Florida State University in Tallahassee; Brown University; the Annunciation School in Minneapolis, Minnesota; and Evergreen High School in Colorado.
A Defining Methodology: Autonomy and Significant Spaces
Central to Shorr’s artistic and documentary approach is the profound level of agency she grants to each participant. Rather than dictating the terms of the portrait sessions or forcing subjects into sterile studio environments, Shorr allows the survivors complete autonomy to choose their own portrait locations. The selected sites invariably hold deep personal significance, serving as tangible physical connections to the traumatic events that disrupted their lives, or conversely, acting as sanctuaries of recovery.
"I gave the survivors the autonomy to choose a place of profound significance to them," Shorr tells PetaPixel.
The resulting environments chosen by the participants generally fall into two distinct categories. Some individuals choose to return directly to the physical sites of the tragedies, actively confronting the spaces where their lives were upended in an effort to process their grief and reclaim their narratives. Others seek out environments firmly rooted in healing, safety, or personal comfort—places that represent a stark contrast to the terror of the events they survived.
Within the pages of the project, these diverse choices manifest in deeply personal, heart-wrenching ways. In Minneapolis, Minnesota, a young girl named Orla is photographed sitting on stone steps next to a small turtle. Orla was a student at the Annunciation School and inside the church when a horrific shooting took place. Her best friend, Harper, was killed during the attack. In an act of profound remembrance, Harper’s parents wanted Orla to have Harper’s pet turtle, Bubbles. Around her neck, Orla wears a necklace containing a portion of Harper’s ashes.
Also from the Annunciation School are three brothers—Arlo, Julian, and Dario—who were inside the church on August 27, 2025, when a 23-year-old former student arrived armed with an AR-15-style rifle, a shotgun, and a handgun. Approximately 300 students were gathered for the opening-school-year Mass when the assailant barricaded the doors and fired 120 rounds through the stained-glass windows. Two students were killed and 28 others were injured before the shooter died by suicide. Arlo, dressed in a white shirt in the photograph, was struck by shrapnel in the head and back. All three brothers are currently undergoing therapy and express an understandable aversion to ever stepping foot inside a church again.
In Nashville, Tennessee, a woman named Melissa stands in profile with her eyes closed, holding her hand toward the light. Her portrait connects back to the tragic events of March 27, 2023, at The Covenant School, where a 28-year-old former student shot and killed three nine-year-olds and three adults, including the school principal. Melissa’s son, Ozzy, was a student at the school. In the chaotic moments of the attack, students and teachers fled down a hill to a local firehouse, locking themselves inside for safety. Before official reunification locations had been established, frantic parents searched the area, leading Melissa to spot Ozzy inside the firehouse. In a moment captured forever in memory, both mother and son pressed their hands against the glass to connect.
Confronting the Aftermath Across Generations and Campuses
The echoes of these tragedies ripple across every level of education, leaving an indelible mark on young children, adolescents, educators, and families alike. In Winder, Georgia, young baseball player Elijah Rivera-Rodriguez stands on an athletic field with his head bowed in front of a scoreboard. The field served as the reunification center for parents and students following the September 2024 shooting at Apalachee High School, where a 14-year-old new student used an assault rifle provided by his father to kill two students and two teachers. The shooter’s father faced criminal charges and a conviction carrying a potential sentence of more than 100 years, marking him as one of the few parents in the nation to be held legally responsible for a mass shooting committed by their child. For Elijah, the grueling day spent waiting on that field is an experience he knows he will never forget.
In Uvalde, Texas, the grief of May 24, 2022—when an 18-year-old former student fatally shot 19 students and two teachers at Robb Elementary School—remains a lingering shadow. April Elrod, whose daughter Makenna was killed in the massacre, is photographed on the family farm alongside Makenna’s horse, Little Red. To cope and to keep the spirit of community alive, April and her family travel to local fairs with their animals, providing children with opportunities to interact with them.
Another Uvalde survivor, 12-year-old Abby, was a student at Robb Elementary and the best friend of Tess, one of the children killed in the attack. Abby’s bedroom has since been transformed into a personal shrine dedicated to the memory of Tess, and Abby now receives her education through homeschooling. Meanwhile, Kim and Felix Rubio, who also lost their daughter Lexi during the Robb Elementary shooting, are photographed standing near the batting cages where Lexi used to play softball. Kim has since transitioned into a vocal gun violence activist, frequently traveling to the Texas State House in Austin to advocate for legislative reform.
In Oxford, Michigan, the trauma of the November 2021 shooting—where a 15-year-old student opened fire at Oxford High School, killing four students and wounding seven—continues to shape the lives of survivors. The shooter’s parents were sentenced to 10 to 15 years in prison for involuntary manslaughter after purchasing the firearm despite clear warning signs regarding their son’s severe mental health struggles. Abu Touray, who was a freshman at the time, is now a high school senior and remains deeply traumatized by the events of that day. His older sister, Zoe, who was a senior when the shooting occurred, is photographed at a local coffee shop where students frequently gathered after classes. In the wake of the tragedy, Zoe established a small non-profit organization dedicated to supporting other survivors of school shootings.
The ripple effects of such violence extend into higher education as well. At Michigan State University in Lansing, Nancy and Ted Verner asked to be photographed inside Berkey Hall, standing behind a wooden-framed glass door while the photographer remained outside. On the evening of February 13, 2023, an assailant walked onto the campus, entered an unlocked building, and forced his way into an active classroom through a broken lock, killing two students and injuring five others before continuing his rampage on campus. Among those killed was Nancy and Ted’s daughter, Alex, an athlete and student in the room. The grieving parents now operate a non-profit organization that raises money to provide scholarships for students in her honor.
At Florida State University in Tallahassee, Alessandra Borges is photographed sitting at a desk by a window holding a dried flower from a bouquet she brought to a memorial service. In April 2025, a 20-year-old student took a Glock handgun belonging to his stepmother onto the FSU campus near the Student Union and opened fire, killing two university employees and wounding six students. For Alessandra, a junior majoring in political science, the event marked the second time a school shooting touched her life; when she was in the eighth grade, a friend was killed during the massacre at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida.
Other educators and students have similarly had their lives upended. Andrew Speers, a graphic arts, photography, and mountain bike repair teacher at Evergreen High School in Colorado, was sitting in the cafeteria with fellow faculty members in September 2025 when a 16-year-old student opened fire during lunchtime. The shooter targeted the teachers’ table first, physically injuring two students and traumatizing many others over a nine-minute span before taking his own life. Speers, who also coaches the school’s Mountain Bike Club, now struggles to piece together a complete memory of everything that transpired during the attack. Kai Palat, a freshman at Evergreen at the time, was chased down the hallway by the gunman alongside a friend. While Kai escaped physical injury, his friend was shot. Today, Kai copes with the lingering anxiety of that day through playing the piano and the comfort of his cat, Tiger.
A Call for Common Sense and Collective Action
Reflecting on the totality of her work across the United States, Shorr expresses frustration that gun violence has been allowed to become such a deeply polarizing political issue. She argues that the ongoing ideological divide obscures the fundamental common ground that reasonable people should readily share.
"The Second Amendment in America is not going to go away. We must move past the division and work on the common ground that most rational people can agree on," Shorr says. "For instance, if you are a parent or have children in your home, including teenagers, you want those children to be safe and to live long, healthy lives. Why, then, would anyone leave a firearm unlocked where a child could see it, find it, play with it, or take it to school? All guns should be secured with gun locks or stored in gun safes in homes with children or mentally impaired individuals."
Shorr highlights cases like Oxford High School and Apalachee High School as stark illustrations of the tragic consequences of unsecured firearms within reach of troubled youths. She draws parallels to historical regulatory efforts in other major American industries, noting that public safety ultimately necessitated collective agreement.
"This should not be an issue open to debate. Both the auto industry and the tobacco industry saw Americans come together to create common sense laws that protected everyone," she adds. "This same collective action must happen in the gun industry as well. It should not be a political battleground; it is a human rights violation not to protect our children."
Turning Private Heartbreak Into Catalyst for Change
Shorr’s extensive documentation of gun violence spans multiple major initiatives, beginning with SHOT: 101 Survivors of Gun Violence in America, photographed between 2013 and 2025, followed by SHOT: We the Mothers Philadelphia and Miami, captured between 2021 and 2023. Over the span of this 13-year trilogy, she has worked with approximately 300 survivors.
Despite the pervasive weight of the subject matter, Shorr emphasizes that the individuals she encounters are defined by their resilience rather than their despair.
"Having worked on this trilogy for 13 years, I have met 300 remarkable survivors who have completely changed my life," she notes. "Many people ask me how I can spend so much time on such a depressing subject. I always tell them that while the subject matter is heavy, the people are anything but depressing. They are courageous, strong, caring, and generous individuals who participate in these projects because they want to help others avoid experiencing the pain they have endured. With each person I photographed, I became more determined to share their stories with the world, turning their private heartbreak into a powerful catalyst for change."
