Hidden financial costs of surviving school shootings

Survivors of mass school shootings confront costs that extend far beyond the trauma they endure. The Brown University shooting in recent days—an active shooter incident that left two people dead and nine wounded—underscored how financial pressures can follow students for years. For Mia Tretta, now a Brown student and a two-time survivor after a 2019 shooting in California that killed her best friend, the crisis on campus echoed a prior experience. When the alerts went out, Tretta began weighing rebooking costs and travel options. She initially planned to pay $200 to take an earlier Delta flight, but her mother intervened and had the airline waive the fee through her Delta status.

Transportation costs are only the beginning. Tretta’s medical needs after fighting the injuries from her earlier shooting carry a heavy price tag as well; her initial hospital stay totaled more than $178,000. The Tretta family relied on private insurance and California’s gun violence victim’s compensation fund to reimburse care not covered by insurance. It was a process of submitting bills, waiting for approvals, and explaining that the shooter had died by suicide. "You have to pay for it initially, and then wait to be reimbursed," Tiffany Tretta said. "We would always take care of anything we could for her, just to lighten this, because it’s just a shitty hand that she was dealt."

Relief from immediate costs arrived from the Brown community as alumni stepped in. Autumn Wong, a Palm Beach resident and Brown graduate who has worked as a resident adviser, drained her own checking account to cover flights for five undergraduates who needed to get home quickly. She later started a GoFundMe that has helped at least 46 students rebook or offset their airline changes. "People will do whatever they can to get home," Wong said. "I know one person, their parents took out loans to pay for their flight." Brown also directs students to internal resources, including an emergency fund for income-eligible students and the Student Emergency Support Fund, as well as a public document linking nearby businesses offering discounts or free rides. "It’s definitely more [resources] than we had at Saugus," Tretta noted, referencing her experience with the Saugus High School shooting years earlier.

In addition to direct travel help, the financial toll for survivors can extend to medical and long-term care. Tretta’s hospital stay, for example, illustrates the breadth of expenses that can accompany injuries from mass shootings. Her family tapped private insurance and California’s gun violence victim’s compensation fund to reclaim costs not fully covered by insurance, and the process required persistent advocacy and documentation. The egg-freezing decision, prompted by medical advice about future fertility, adds another layer of cost not typically covered by public programs; Tretta’s team estimates about $20,000 for the procedure. Therapy—an essential component of recovery—can run high as well, with private appointments commonly priced at more than $200 per session, though some coverage reduces the out-of-pocket price to more modest levels.

Zoe Weissman, 20, has already endured a second mass shooting in her lifetime. In 2018, when she was 12, she was living near Parkland, Florida, when a former student fatally opened fire on nearby peers. Weissman relied on a child psychologist who did not accept her family’s insurance, paying upwards of $200 per appointment and continuing therapy for years. "Although they were able to pay, it’s undoubtedly cost them tens of thousands of dollars, something I do feel guilty about even though I know I need the help and my family is more than willing to provide it for me," she said. Weissman’s experience underscores a broader reality: for many families, even with private insurance, intensive mental health support after a mass shooting can be financially burdensome and emotionally draining.

For Tretta, the financial overlay of trauma is not limited to one hospital bill or a single flight. The long arc of mental health care—therapy, medications, and coping services—constitutes a continuing expense. Experts emphasize that the toll extends beyond dollars. Erika Felix, a clinical psychology professor at the University of California, Santa Barbara, who studies children’s long-term mental health after mass shootings, says that many survivors will recover and be resilient, but the most common trauma symptoms can include elevated anxiety, untreated post-traumatic stress disorder that can evolve into depression, and trouble concentrating in classes. The mental health burden of gun violence can be lifelong, particularly for those who witness or experience repeated events.

The broader economic cost of gun violence is staggering. A 2022 study by Everytown for Gun Safety estimated that gun violence costs about $557 billion per year when accounting for medical expenses, lost wages, criminal-justice resources, and diminished quality of life for victims and their families. Medical costs for mass shooting injuries alone have been estimated at roughly $64,976 per person, based on a study of 403 patients from 13 incidents over seven years. These numbers help explain why Tretta’s family and other survivors describe months or years of financial stress alongside the emotional ordeal.

Brown University notes and community responses are part of a larger pattern of institutional support, but they are not a substitute for comprehensive care. The university maintains an emergency fund for income-eligible students with special circumstances, and the Undergraduate Council of Students operates a Student Emergency Support Fund. There is also a living document listing nearby businesses that offer discounts or free rides for students and Providence residents—a practical but incomplete net that reflects the granularity of the support required. Tretta says the resources are valuable, though she cautions that the burden of survival reaches far beyond the immediate crisis. Weissman adds that even with help, the burden of a second trauma remains: the sense of safety and normalcy can never be fully restored.

The personal costs of surviving gun violence are often hidden. Tretta now leads the Brown chapter of Students Demand Action, a youth-led gun-violence prevention group, and uses her platform to advocate for policies that reduce the financial and emotional toll on victims and families. She and Weissman agree on one measure: while dollars can help, the true price is often the erosion of safety and the lifelong effort to rebuild a sense of normalcy. The loss of innocence and safety, both practical and emotional, is cited by survivors as the most enduring consequence—an assertion backed by researchers who emphasize the need for sustained mental health support and accessible medical care for all those affected by gun violence.