the victims at Annunciation

This week 60 school desks stand empty outside the Minnesota Capitol. 

The desks are ordinary objects. The kind students sit in every day without a second thought. But these desks are different. Each represents a Minnesota child killed by gun violence. Each marks a life interrupted, a future denied, a family forever changed, a child that should be in school. 

Together they represent more than 200 Minnesota children killed by gun violence since 2021. Two of the desks honor children our community knew and loved: 8-year-old Fletcher, a third grader, and fifth grader Harper, age 10. Fletcher and Harper were killed in a shooting during an all-school Mass on Aug. 27, 2025. Fletcher and Harper should still be here. Fletcher and Harper should be in their classrooms, surrounded by friends and teachers. Fletcher and Harper should be learning, laughing and becoming who they were meant to be. 

Instead, Fletcher and Harper’s desks are empty. 

When our community experienced the kind of loss that divides life into a “before” and “after,” we learned how deeply the absence of a child reshapes a family, a classroom, and an entire community. We also heard the same words repeated, quietly and urgently: “Something has to change.” 

But change does not happen simply because we hope for it. Change requires leadership and partnership. It happens when those entrusted with responsibility work together to protect children. 

The empty desks at the Capitol make visible what can no longer be ignored. They are not there to provoke. They are there to bear witness. They represent children who should still be alive, and the consequences of choices made, and not made. 

Protecting children is one of the most fundamental responsibilities of public service. This is not a political expectation; it’s a moral one. It is one of the most basic responsibilities entrusted to those who serve in public office. 

The scale of loss continues to outpace the progress families hope to see. Conversations continue. Debates continue. Meanwhile, families continue to bury their children. 

These deaths are not inevitable. They are preventable. Evidence-based solutions exist. Communities across the country have implemented proven approaches that reduce violence and save lives. Minnesota can learn from what is working elsewhere. What has been missing is not knowledge. It’s urgency. 

Every lawmaker who walks past those 60 desks will be confronted with a reality that cannot be explained away. They will see the human cost reflected not in statistics, but in children.

They will face a choice: They can walk past those desks and allow this pattern of loss to continue; or they will have an opportunity to act with clarity and courage that Minnesotans expect and that children deserve. 

That is why parents and community members came together to form the Annunciation Light Alliance. We did not choose this work. We chose not to look away. We chose the word “Light” because light reveals truth. 

The truth is that remembrance alone is not enough. 

We cannot undo what happened to Fletcher and Harper. We cannot restore the futures that were taken from them. But we can decide what kind of future Minnesota will accept for the children who are still here. 

The empty desks at the Capitol will stand quietly. They will not speak. They will not demand attention. The question is how we move forward. 

The question is whether they will act.