Facing the Roots: Reflections on Violence, Accountability, and Our Shared Responsibility

“Violence cannot be our teacher. Accountability must be — for only in owning the harm can we begin to heal it.” - Mary Coughlin

On September 10, 2025, two violent tragedies shook different parts of the country. In Utah, a man was shot and killed while speaking at a university event. In Colorado, a student opened fire at Evergreen High School, injuring classmates before dying by suicide.

Though these events differ in many ways, what unites them is the violence. It leaves behind grief, trauma, and the unshakable reality that every life lost is a tragedy that harms us all.

These events are not isolated. They are part of a much older story — one our nation has carried from its very beginning.

America has long lived with a legacy of violence, division, and disrespect. From the genocide of Native peoples to the enslavement of Africans, from lynchings to mass shootings, the taking of human life has been woven into our national fabric. What troubles me is not that violence continues, but that we keep acting as though it happens in a vacuum — when in fact, it reflects a long history of intolerance, racism, misogyny, and dehumanization that is etched into our national story.

And here is where I must pause and turn inward. For much of my life, I did not see this legacy as mine to reckon with. Violence and hate felt like things that happened to others. But the truth is that hate harms all of us, whether we are the direct target or not. My own silence, my failure to name this inheritance more clearly, has been a form of complicity. To benefit from systems that privilege some while dehumanizing others is to be implicated.

So part of my reflection now is to own that — to acknowledge that I, too, am shaped by a culture that normalizes disrespect and division. Healing must begin with me as much as with anyone else.

A trauma-informed perspective helps us see this moment for what it is:

• The taking of a human life is ALWAYS tragic and must be condemned.

• Harmful rhetoric, wherever it emerges, is also a form of violence — and we share responsibility to name it, challenge it, and prevent its harm from spreading.

• Both lethal violence and rhetorical violence are symptoms of deeper, unhealed trauma in our nation.

In my work in the NICU, we know that unresolved trauma dysregulates tiny bodies, relationships, and futures. The same is true for nations. Generational wounds — left unnamed and unhealed — manifest as cycles of harm and division. We cannot soothe this trauma with silence. We can only heal it through truth-telling, accountability, and connection.

The B.U.F.F.E.R. framework reminds us of what’s possible: Belonging, Understanding, Forgiveness, Frameworks, Equanimity, and Respect. These are not only the principles of trauma-informed developmental care; they are the principles of civic healing.

The taking of a human life is always tragic. But if we want a different future, we must face our past honestly, reckon with our complicity, and commit ourselves to weaving a new fabric of care, justice, and belonging.

Reflection Prompt:

Violence rarely happens in isolation. It often reflects deeper legacies of intolerance, racism, misogyny, and division.

• Where in your own life have you seen violence — whether in words, systems, or actions — treated as an isolated event rather than part of a larger pattern?

• How have you responded in those moments? With silence? With discomfort? With action?

• What might accountability look like for you, in your community or your daily life?

Take a few minutes to journal or simply sit with these questions. Notice what surfaces — without judgment — and consider one step you might take toward interrupting harm and choosing accountability.

Violence cannot be our teacher. Accountability must be.

Take care and care well,
Mary