The psychological devastation of surviving a mass school shooting is well-documented, but a less visible crisis unfolds in the financial aftermath. For students and their families, the trauma is compounded by staggering and often lifelong economic burdens, from immediate emergency costs to long-term healthcare needs.
The Immediate Scramble: Travel and Emergency Costs
Mia Tretta, now 21, is a grimly seasoned two-time school shooting survivor. Her first experience was in 2019 at age 15, when she was shot in the stomach during a shooting at Saugus High School in California that killed two students, including her best friend. Her second came recently as a student at Brown University in Rhode Island. In December, an active shooter opened fire inside a Brown engineering building, killing two and wounding nine others.
In the chaotic aftermath, with the suspected shooter initially at large, Tretta and many other students felt an urgent need to leave campus. She faced a $200 fee to change her Delta flight to an earlier departure, a cost later waived due to her mother's airline status. Other students weren't as fortunate. Brown junior Gia Shin, who secured a free ride home to New Jersey, acknowledged she would have had to pay to rebook her train ticket otherwise.
Recognizing the crisis, some airlines like Delta and American offered fee waivers, and the community stepped up. Autumn Wong, a recent Brown graduate, drained her checking account to book flights for five undergraduates and later started a GoFundMe. As of December 19, that fundraiser had helped at least 46 students with travel costs, with total reimbursement requests reaching $15,503.
The Long-Term Financial Aftermath: Medical and Mental Health
For survivors, transportation is just the first line on a long bill. The medical costs from gun violence are astronomical. A 2022 study found medical costs for mass shooting injuries average $64,976 per person. Mia Tretta's initial hospital stay in 2019 totaled over $178,000.
"At the moment, you don’t care what anything’s going to cost, as long as they heal your child," said Tiffany Tretta, Mia's mother. "And then the bills start to roll in." The family used private insurance and California's victim compensation fund, but the process was grueling, requiring constant paperwork and upfront payments.
The financial impact extends for years. Tretta now plans to freeze her eggs this summer, a $20,000 procedure recommended by doctors due to uncertainty about her fertility after being shot in the lower stomach—a cost not covered by victim funds.
Ongoing mental health care represents another significant, lifelong expense. Zoe Weissman, 20, who survived both the Brown shooting and the 2018 Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School shooting in Parkland, Florida, saw a private child psychologist for over six years. Her family paid over $200 per weekly appointment, totaling tens of thousands of dollars. "I do feel guilty about it," Weissman admitted, while acknowledging her family's privilege in being able to afford it.
Mia Tretta, now covered by insurance, still pays about $15 per weekly therapy session. "It really adds up," she said. Other costs to feel safe, like $200 noise-canceling headphones to cope with trigger noises, further strain budgets.
The Incalculable Price of Lost Safety
Beyond quantifiable expenses lies a profound loss. A 2022 study by Everytown for Gun Safety estimates gun violence costs the U.S. $557 billion annually in combined direct and indirect costs. But for survivors, the erosion of their sense of security is priceless.
"The biggest cost for me has been a loss of my old sense of 'normal,'" said Weissman, who lives with PTSD. "I am hyper-vigilant in public, my senses are incredibly heightened." Gia Shin is shaken by a near-miss; she almost studied in the engineering building where the shooting occurred.
While universities like Brown offer emergency funds and community support—a marked contrast to Tretta's high school experience—the financial and emotional load persists. Survivors navigate a dual reality: healing from profound trauma while managing a complex web of expenses that serves as a constant reminder of the violence they endured. The price of survival, it turns out, is a lifelong ledger.
