Commentary: I grew up in the era of mass shootings. Fear of violence grips my generation

The first mass shooting I remember is Sandy Hook in 2012. I was in middle school then, and I could tell something was wrong when I walked downstairs and saw my parents watching the news while it was still light out.

During my first year of high school, I remember my math teacher telling us what to do if there was a gunman in the building. If you can’t run, she said, use your desk as a shield.

I remember exactly where I was and what I was doing when I heard about the shooting at UNC Charlotte in 2019. In the library of my own university, just two hours away, I suddenly felt incredibly vulnerable. I repositioned myself so I could keep one eye on the entrance — just in case.