The Hidden Financial Cost of Surviving a School Shooting

Two-time school shooting survivor Mia Tretta, now a Brown University student, says that surviving a mass shooting comes with a financial toll that outlives the incident itself. She was 15 when she was wounded during a 2019 attack at Saugus High School in California, an incident that killed two students, including Tretta’s best friend. This year, Tretta survived another shooting on the Brown campus, where a gunman opened fire inside an engineering building that students had been preparing to enter for an exam. Two people were killed and nine wounded. Although the suspected shooter died by suicide after the fact, the chaos left Tretta and many peers with immediate and lingering costs beyond the trauma itself.

The Brown incident prompted a jittery campus and delayed travel plans for many students. Tretta said she initially planned to pay an extra $200 to change her Delta flight to an earlier departure, but her mother, who carries Delta status, managed to have the fee waived. The same night, Brown junior Gia Shin described securing a free car ride home to New Jersey from a friend’s father, who drove straight through a snowstorm to retrieve Shin. “If I didn’t have that, though, I would have had to rebook my train ticket for sure,” Shin said, noting she left with only the clothes she had on that morning. Some airlines, such as Delta and American, have offered limited waivers for rebooking fees, but many students still faced out-of-pocket costs.

Immediately after the Brown shooting, Autumn Wong, a Palm Beach, Florida resident and recent Brown graduate, launched a GoFundMe to help cover the transportation costs of Brown undergrads. Wong, who has worked as a Brown resident adviser, drained her own checking account to cover the flights for five students and eventually expanded the effort to assist dozens more. “I stayed up for 24 hours that first night just booking people on flights,” she recalled. The effort has continued to grow, with Wong reporting that the fund has helped at least 46 students rebook or offset flight fees, and some families even took out loans to pay for travel. As of Dec. 19, students were seeking $15,503 in reimbursement for flight scheduling issues. Brown University also offers its own resources, including an emergency fund for income-eligible students and a Student Emergency Support Fund, along with a directory of local discounts and transportation options for students and Providence-area residents.

But transportation costs are only the tip of the iceberg. Tretta’s hospital stay after her 2019 injury topped $178,000, highlighting the astronomical medical expenses many survivors face. A 2022 study of 403 patients from 13 mass shooting incidents over seven years found that medical costs for injuries average $64,976 per person, encompassing initial treatment and subsequent care that may involve multiple doctors, specialists, anesthesiologists, or helicopter transport. Tretta’s family carried private insurance and pursued California’s gun violence victim’s compensation fund, a program available in every state, to recoup costs insurance did not cover. Yet even with these resources, families describe a lengthy, burdensome process of submitting and resubmitting claims while managing the day-to-day realities of a seriously injured child. Tretta’s mother, Tiffany Tretta, recalled coordinating appointments, negotiating with insurers, and repeatedly explaining that the gunman’s death left no other responsible party to hold financially accountable: “You’re trying to explain something that completely shattered and wrecked your life.”

Beyond hospital bills, survivors often face long-term, uncertain costs tied to mental health and future family planning. Tretta has faced decisions about future fertility after a gunshot to the lower abdomen, with doctors advising egg freezing as a precaution. Her estimated cost for the procedure runs around $20,000, money not typically covered by state programs. Therapy also imposes ongoing expenses; for adult survivors in Tretta’s case, therapy for the current needs can run about $15 per visit, and even with weekly sessions, the annual expense is significant when multiplied over 50 weeks. In addition, small but meaningful costs—such as $200 noise-canceling headphones to reduce triggers in a library or classroom—can add up over time as individuals work to regain focus and study consistency.

Two-time survivor Zoe Weissman, who survived a 2018 Parkland-related incident at Westglades Middle School near Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School, echoed the long financial path families must walk. Weissman, who has seen a private psychologist regularly since her youth, said private therapy costs can add up to tens of thousands of dollars over years. “Although they were able to pay, it’s undoubtedly cost them tens of thousands of dollars,” she said. Tretta, who initially sought state-covered victim services for resources after a similar crisis in California, noted that waitlists and provider shortages can hinder access, forcing many survivors to rely on private care or personal savings.

As an adult, Tretta now attends therapy covered by her insurance, but the out-of-pocket cost remains substantial: she described paying roughly $15 per visit, with weekly sessions for a year totaling hundreds of dollars, a continued financial strain in addition to other health-related expenses. Mental health care—often a lifelong need for gun violence survivors—adds to the already heavy burden of medical bills, therapy, and travel. Weissman described the mental health toll as lifelong in some cases: “The biggest cost for me has been a loss of my old sense of ‘normal.’ After developing PTSD, I had to learn how to accept that my life would forever be different: I am hyper-vigilant in public, my senses are incredibly heightened, and I experience a higher baseline level of anxiety.” The nonfinial toll—loss of safety and normalcy—remains a core part of the survivor narrative.

Calculating the financial footprint of gun violence goes beyond individual families. A 2022 estimate from Everytown for Gun Safety analyzed both direct costs, such as medical treatment and long-term care, and indirect costs, including lost wages and criminal justice resources. The study estimated gun violence costs to society at about $557 billion annually. The figure underscores that the price of violence extends far past hospital bills and ride shares, permeating education, productivity, and community well-being. Survivors and their families describe the broader impact on daily life, including ongoing anxiety about safety in schools, campuses, and public spaces, and the challenge of returning to a sense of normalcy after trauma.

Brown University’s response to student need reflects a broader pattern of institutions attempting to cushion these costs. Students have access to campus resources and emergency funds, and alumni networks have mobilized to help with immediate transportation and other urgent expenses. Yet for many survivors, the financial and emotional recovery is a long road, one that requires ongoing support from healthcare providers, insurers, schools, and communities. As Weissman summarized, while money cannot restore safety or innocence, access to affordable mental health care, medical treatment, and practical support remains essential to helping survivors rebuild their lives after shooting incidents.