Michelle Allen is still learning how to cope nearly three years after her only child, Nicholas Isaac, 23, was shot and killed inside a Brooklyn bike store.
Her son, known to his friends and family as Nico, was a painter and tattoo artist who had recently purchased his first electric bike, Ms. Allen said. On a hot day in July, he got into an argument with a man at the bike store. The man eventually left, but later returned — this time with a gun. He shot Mr. Isaac multiple times.
“It’s hard,” said Ms. Allen, who was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder and now prefers to avoid social gatherings. “I just feel like being in my home is safer for me.”
Her story is one of more than 600 responses we received after asking Times readers whether the threat of gun violence has affected their mental state or the way they lead their lives.
Some readers said the sheer number of shootings in America has left them numb or resigned. A more sizable group described feeling frustrated, angry and helpless. Some said they now avoid crowded events and public transportation, scan public venues for nearby escape routes or stay at home more often. A handful said they had moved to different cities or even to another country to try to escape the threat.
Fear was a unifying thread, regardless of whether someone had directly encountered gun violence. “At work, I wonder if my desk would provide enough space for me to hide — or should I just make a run for it?” asked one reader who lives in Palm Springs, Calif.
In 2021, homicides and suicides involving guns reached their highest rates in three decades — deaths that disproportionately affect Black and Hispanic communities. Mass shootings, though only a fraction of the number of gun murders nationwide, are also on the rise. And guns are now the No. 1 cause of death among American children and teens.
The emotional toll is hard to quantify. One survey, conducted by the Harris Poll for the American Psychological Association, found that more than seven in 10 adults cited gun violence as a significant source of stress. Women, Latinos and Black people were most likely to give this response.
The quotes below do not represent the full picture of how Americans feel today, but they tell a story of people who are grappling with a weighty threat, both real and imagined.
You are welcome to share your own story in the comments.
Answers have been edited and condensed for clarity.
I have two small kids. One is in school. What worries me the most is gun violence happening at her school. To cope with those thoughts and feelings, I talk with my family, cry sometimes and just try to move on with my day.
Tessa Martinez, 27, Phoenix
Ever since the Nashville elementary school shooting, I’ve been intermittently crying in our basement while my girls take play breaks from homeschool in their playroom upstairs. Every shooting I just feel so scared, and I don’t even have to send my girls to school. Until they go to college some day. Oh man. I don’t even want to think about it.
Bianca DeValeria, 32, Grand Isle, Vt.
Gun violence is no longer on my mind because we left the U.S. The reality of gun violence was a primary motivation to leave.
We lived in Tucson when the mass shooting occurred and had personal connections to those victims as well as to first responders. We also have family in El Paso who had connections to the victims of the shooting there.
Since Sandy Hook, I have developed a sense of apathy. I am not proud of this. And if nothing changed to protect our children, then nothing will change.
Shari Goettel, 59, Bombarral, Portugal
When I make a plan to travel to more populated places or know that I’ll be in a crowd, I calculate the chances of being gunned down.
Gail, 61, Vermont
I used to pray that my sons — who are young Black men — are healthy and happy. I don’t do that anymore. Now I pray only for safety for my sons, my family and myself. I can only pray they come home at night and are not victims of a shooter at the grocery store, in their school classroom, driving to the movies, sitting in the car at the stoplight.
I speak with my sons every day about where they go, even if it’s an evening jog, and I don’t move forward until I know they’re safely home. ‘Be safe, be aware’ is my mantra, even though I know it’s no kind of shield because there isn’t one.
Lori Mathews, 44, Cleveland
Luckily, our town hasn’t experienced a mass shooting. Yet. In the last week alone there were two instances in which students brought guns to my sister’s school with the intent to “shoot it up.” Multiple schools in the county went on lockdown. I’m absolutely terrified, and our quaint little country town is forever shaken. Every morning I wake up and ask, “Am I next?” or even worse, “Is my little sister next?”
Haley D’Olier, 15, Santa Rosa, Calif.
When it comes to gun violence, we often see or hear about the victim and the person who did it, but not much more. I think we need to be looking more at the root causes.
Rev. Geoffrey Guns, Norfolk, Va.
I view the potential for gun violence as just another potential hazard in life. For example, I bike to work each day, about 11 miles each way. I know that I am at risk of colliding with a car or bus and that if I do I will end up the loser. I view this as a risk that I am willing to take.
Robert Kuchta, 65, Lafayette, Colo.
I often worry about gun violence. But the Nashville shooting feels a little bit different because it’s closer to home. My mom is a substitute teacher at an alternative high school in Knoxville, Tenn. My wife works as a counselor at an inner-city elementary school. It feels like when a tornado narrowly misses your city.
Cameron Armstrong, 32, Odenton, Md.
I worry about gun violence every single day. I’m a mom and a teacher. I hug my child in the morning and wonder if one of us will be shot by the end of the day. I worry about how I will safely get me and my students out in the event of a gunman on campus. I am afraid to go to the movies, grocery shopping — I pretty much check for escape routes everywhere I go. I’m even afraid to go and get a massage.
I’m also a Black woman, so I have that extra worry about police brutality. I really pay attention to the way I drive on the road and behave in public. I cope by volunteering for gun safety organizations and teaching people how to own and store a gun safely. Meditation helps.
Lila H., 47, Los Angeles
I’m a veteran and have served in combat. I felt safer in combat than I do going to the grocery store.
Fetzer Mills Jr., 62, Ripley, Tenn.
I always leave the area when I see someone open-carry a gun. I’m not going to risk it since I know nothing about that person. But I also attend concerts, enjoy the theater and strongly feel that I will not allow the threat of gun violence to ruin my life.
Terri Gwinner, 62, Hebron, Maine
I own a gun to hunt, and need to routinely shoot it to stay in practice. I only go shooting with close friends I trust, usually on a lunch break in the middle of the day. The first time I went to our public range I was nearly shot with a stray bullet from an irresponsible gun owner. I’ve showed up to the shooting area before and left, because of too many people with high caliber and automatic weapons.
Madeleine Carey, 31, Santa Fe, N.M.
I am consumed by the worry and threat of gun violence. As an Asian American psychologist, and with the rise of anti-Asian hate, it has been a very personal concern but also a professional one. Scores of my Asian and Asian American clients have experienced racial-bias-related verbal and physical assaults. I am also a mother of a 19-year-old, and so my worries are even more compounded.
I have been more overtly protective with my child and have role-played what to do if suspicious people are encountered. My husband has been thinking of the possibility of buying Mace as our child studies in N.Y.C. now.
Nicole Benedicto Elden, 51, Westchester County, N.Y.
As an international Asian student, a father and a husband, I feel worried about my family’s safety. I live in a white-dominant place, so I often feel insecure and I do not approach my porch or door if there are people or cars around my home. If I decide to leave this country, gun violence is the biggest reason.
Janghee Cho, 36, Boulder, Colo.
I think about it every day. Not only because I work as a teacher, but also because my students are so very deeply impacted by gun violence in their communities. Several of them have been murdered. Our school has been on lockdown. It’s daily for us.
Kristine Wilber, 51, Chicago
We chose a small private school that’s hard to afford because I’m scared of school shootings. After Nashville, I’m going to ask the school about installing security.
Abby K., 47, Charlottesville, Va.
Our office building is shared by multiple businesses, so the front door stays unlocked all day. Anyone can enter, and during business hours the door to our space stays open as well. Maybe I’m overthinking it, but what if there’s a disgruntled ex-employee that comes back? I was assigned to a desk where my back was to the door. I moved desks so now I can see the front door clearly from where I sit. Whenever someone walks in, I look up. It’s distracting and I feel on constant alert, but my open office floor plan with one entrance makes me anxious that there’s nowhere to go in an emergency.
Amelia, 25, Hoboken, N.J.
When traveling or vacationing in states with lax gun laws, my behavior is more circumspect and I avoid confrontation, as someone might be carrying a weapon. I am going to encourage my high school senior grandson not to attend college in an open-carry state or where gun control laws are virtually nonexistent.
Rich T., 76, Monroe, N.Y.
I don’t go into Kansas City anymore unless I absolutely have to for medical care. I am very conscious in stores. I travel with a handgun on my trips back and forth to our second home in Colorado. I have biometric gun safes in several places in my home so I can safely access a gun without fear of my grandkids gaining access to it.
Robert Carl Brennan, 64, Louisburg, Kan.
As a gay man, the Pulse nightclub shooting greatly affected me. I never have been much of a bar person, but ever since then, when I am in a gay establishment, I look for the nearest way out in the event of a shooting. Even at work, I wonder if my desk would provide enough space for me to hide — or should I just make a run for it?
Patrick Hamilton, Palm Springs, Calif.
My beautiful niece was killed by a school shooter. She was held hostage first, for hours. Our family was traumatized.
When our children were school-age, we weren’t the best at setting boundaries because of this idea that life could be so abruptly ended. Our extended family is very, very close, and we went to lengths to be together more. Both me and my spouse were terrible at saving and planning for retirement. I was completely unwilling to deny our family an experience now in favor of retirement later because I am never sure later will come.
Anne-Marie Stoddard-Wheelock, 60, Madison, Wis.
One of my close friends from high school lost her dad during the Monterey Park shooting in January. It’s been a month and I still feel like I am in shock.
Caroline D. Lay, 27, Monterey Park, Calif.
My family and I were in a mass shooting this summer at the Highland Park parade.
I never thought our family would be in a mass shooting, but here we are, 33 weeks later and still processing it. Right after the parade, I went to webinars and read so many articles trying to figure out how to parent for this. Turns out there’s a lot more information on how to parent kids who heard about a shooting and were worried, but not a ton for what to do when it’s your child who was there for it.
Kim V., 44, Chicago
I’m a high school teacher. I talk with my students on the first day of class about what our options are if there is an active shooter. I let students ask any and every question they have, including about things that aren’t clear or practiced — what if you are in the hall, the cafeteria, the bathroom, in an assembly. I have them walk into our designated safe space — how would we get all 25 of us, all 37 of us, in there, depending on the class? What will we have to do with our own bodies so every last one of us is safe? How would the bathroom situation work if we are there for hours in that space? I don’t mince words.
Erin Davidson, 44, Cedar City, Utah
My 23-year-old son was shot and killed in broad daylight in a commercial business. Coping is difficult, and I am still figuring out my triggers. I feel helpless, like how come I couldn’t save my only child? And why is his killer not caught? I also feel guilty if I am laughing or just having a good day.
Sadness, anger and depression are daily battles. I was diagnosed with PTSD, so daily activities are hard to complete. I struggle to fall asleep and have gained weight by finding solace in food. I rarely leave the house and will just leave to go to work or participate in a community event to bring awareness to gun violence. I no longer care about my appearance. Most of the time I just wear my son’s sweatpants or his T-shirts.
Michelle Allen, New York City
I live in Texas, so it’s not an exaggeration to say I think about gun violence every time I leave my home. I doubt I’ll ever go to a very large gathering ever again. When I go to church, I think about the safest place to run or hide in the sanctuary.
Julie, 65, Austin, Texas
I worry about my friends getting mowed down at a gay bar. Just last week a balloon popped in the gay bar I was at, and the whole place went silent. I ended up leaving shortly after. I didn’t leave my house for several days following the Club Q shooting in Colorado Springs. Most or all gay bars in Denver now have pat downs and metal detectors to keep us safe, but that doesn’t stop someone from sitting across the street and opening up on us.
Steve Scorse, 31, Denver
I worry daily. My daughter is a senior at Temple University in North Philadelphia, which is the epicenter of gun violence in Philly. I am terrified that my daughter or her friends will be accidentally shot on their way to or from campus, or while out simply running errands like buying groceries. How do I cope? Mostly I bury my feelings until the next shooting is announced. Then I call to make sure she is OK.
Kirsten MacLeod Martin, 58, Philadelphia
Photographs by Tomás Karmelo, Kristen Zeis, Emily Hlavac Green and Arin Yoon for The New York Times. Produced by Deanna Donegan, Hang Do Thi Duc and Tiffanie Graham.