DeAndra Yates

I often say I’m a mother who won’t shut up. And anyone who’s met me or heard me speak knows it’s true. For the past five years, I’ve been on a mission to prevent other mothers from the tragedy that changed our family’s lives on Feb. 1, 2014.

That was the day my son, Dre, was shot. His shooting wasn’t a matter of being in the “wrong place at the wrong time.” He was just a 13-year-old doing what kids do ― hanging out with friends at a birthday party when a stray bullet came through the window and struck him in the head. Dre survived that day, but his injuries were so severe that he will never be the same.

Read more about DeAndre's recovery:This is what the aftermath of gun violence looks like

As survivors of gun violence know far too well, the shooting is only the beginning of a very long and difficult road. The medical costs are exorbitant ― Dre’s nine surgeries, countless days in the hospital and daily rehabilitation have cost millions of dollars. But it’s the emotional toll that is incomprehensible. People say to me all the time, “You are so lucky he is alive.” Yes, I am blessed my son was not killed. But there is nothing lucky about Dre’s condition. He’s not the same Dre.

Dre was an honor roll student, a star athlete and the kind of kid whose smile would light up a room. The shooting left him a nonverbal quadriplegic who has to relearn how to walk and communicate. Dre has made tremendous progress in just five years time. With the help of his rehabilitation, he is back at school and plans to graduate on time with his class this spring. But as proud as I am, my son will never live the life I once dreamed for him. He won’t walk across the stage to receive his diploma. He won’t go off to college or start a career. I may never see him fall in love, get married and raise a family of his own.

I know I am far from alone. Every day, 100 Americans are killed with guns and hundreds more are shot and wounded. And the effects of gun violence extend far beyond these casualties ― gun violence shapes the lives of millions of Americans who witness it, know someone who was shot, or live in fear of the next shooting. The beginning of February also marks a time when more Americans are killed with guns than are killed in other high-income nations in an entire year. It’s not just about the trauma our family has been through ― it’s about our collective pain. We are becoming a nation of survivors.

In reality, there are millions of Americans who have been personally affected by gun violence. It’s not just the ones whose stories make national headlines ― it’s those who have had loved ones die by gun suicide, domestic violence, and unintentional shootings. It takes real courage to share such unimaginable grief, but that’s why we must lean on each other for strength. We speak out so that no one ever has to feel alone again.

In recognition of the first Gun Violence Survivors Week, I will join countless other survivors in sharing my story on the Moments That Survive Memory Wall. This virtual platform is a place to raise up our collective voice to show gun violence is so much more than what’s in the national narrative. It’s not just a shooting that is life changing, it’s the adjustments and accommodations we have to make just to get through the day. For me, it’s that I have to choose between having my son home and giving him around the clock care or being able to sustain a job and provide for him. That decision has been agonizing, but those are the moments that show our strength, those are moments that really matter.

I refuse to stay silent about the gun violence that has changed our lives forever. Far too many families and communities are forced to try to rebuild their lives in the wake of senseless gun violence. Whether it’s a mass shooting in Parkland, Florida or a stray bullet in an Indianapolis suburb, we’ve all become members of the club no one willingly joins. By sharing our experiences, we are building a movement that centers around the voices and experiences of survivors. Together, we are living, breathing reminders of what gun violence in America looks like.

Just as Dre is a fighter, so am I. And I will never stop fighting to end gun violence.

DeAndra Yates is the mother of DeAndre Knox, who was shot and wounded at the age of 13 on Feb. 1, 2014. Knox is the founder of Purpose 4 My Pain, a resource hub that provides support for those personally affected by gun violence. She is also a volunteer with the Everytown Survivor Network and Moms Demand Action for Gun Sense in America, both parts of Everytown for Gun Safety.