In a stellar debut, Cox expands his Washington Post series on the invisible wounds of children damaged by gun violence, a finalist for the 2018 Pulitzer Prize for feature writing.
In 2016, after the fatal shooting of a classmate at her South Carolina school, 7-year-old Ava Olsen was so traumatized that she developed severe PTSD. She even used stickers to cover up the “scary words” in Little House on the Prairie: “gun, fire, blood, kill.” In this powerful report on the emotional scars left by gun violence, Cox argues that Ava is one of millions of American children “who weren’t shot and aren’t considered victims by our legal system but who have, nonetheless, been irreparably harmed by the epidemic.” With deep sympathy for his young subjects, he probes the roots of—and possible solutions to—the crisis, taking sharp aim at the $3 billion school security market, which exploits parental fears by touting products of unproven worth, such as “$150 bulletproof backpacks.” But the beating heart of the narrative consists of the heart-rending stories of vulnerable children. Ava’s pen pal Tyshaun McPhatter wouldn’t let his mother wash a sweatshirt worn by his father, murdered in Washington, D.C., so he’d remember the scent. Her schoolmate Siena Kibilko, prepared for another shooting, had picked out a hiding spot at school “where she just knew the gunman wouldn’t think to look.” Especially moving is the story of Ava’s 6-year-old superhero-loving classmate, Jacob Hall, killed in the shooting at her school and laid out at his funeral in a Batman costume, mourned at the church by friends dressed in his honor as Captain America and other superheroes. Cox analyzes the gun crisis astutely, but his surpassing achievement in this eloquent book is to let children speak for themselves about their grief. Put this one on a shelf with Alex Kotlowitz’s There Are No Children Here—and have a box of tissues handy.
An indispensable contribution to the debate about gun violence.