by Prentiss Smith
Another child is dead. These are words that should never have to be uttered or written, but sadly, I have had the displeasure of writing them numerous times over the past several years.
This time, a 14-year-old girl lost her life, allegedly at the hands of a 13-year-old boy in Shreveport. A family is grieving. Friends are in shock. A community is devastated, struggling to understand how children barely into their teenage years became part of such an unimaginable tragedy.
Sadly, this is no longer an isolated incident. Across Louisiana, we have become all too familiar with stories of young lives cut short by violence. Children are killing children. Husbands are killing wives. Boyfriends are killing girlfriends. Parents are burying sons and daughters who should have been planning for school, college, careers, and families of their own.
Louisiana is facing a crisis that should shake every citizen to the core. I have seen too many of our young people—especially black children and teenagers—are dying from violence. And much of it is gun violence. It has become a public emergency that demands more than thoughts, prayers, and political talking points. Something is deeply broken.
We are witnessing babies killing babies. Children killing parents. Husbands killing wives. Boyfriends killing girlfriends. Neighbors killing neighbors. The headlines have become so common that many of us barely stop to notice. Yet behind every statistic is a grieving family, a devastated neighborhood, and another future cut short.
We can debate the causes—easy access to guns, poverty, broken families, untreated mental illness, social media, failing schools, drugs, or the glorification of violence. The truth is that no single factor explains this epidemic. But together they have created a crisis that is stealing the future of an entire generation.
The question is no longer whether Louisiana has a violence problem. We know it does. The question is whether we have the courage to confront it with the urgency it deserves.
I know there are no simple solutions, but doing nothing is not an option. We must invest in our children long before they pick up a weapon. We must strengthen families, improve access to mental health care, create safe neighborhoods, support effective law enforcement, and give young people reasons to believe their future is worth protecting.
Every time a child kills another child, we should ask ourselves not only what happened that day, but what happened in the years leading up to that moment. Somewhere along the way, opportunities were missed, warning signs were overlooked, and hope was replaced by despair.
The most heartbreaking reality is that many of those pulling the trigger are children themselves. They are growing up in communities where violence has become normalized, where conflict is too often settled with a gun, and where too many young people believe they have little to lose.
This crisis did not appear overnight, and there is no single cause. Poverty, broken homes, untreated mental illness, failing schools, easy access to firearms, drug trafficking, hopelessness, and the erosion of community all play a role. Ignoring any one of these factors guarantees failure.
A 14-year-old girl should not have lost her life. A 13-year-old boy should not be facing the possibility of spending his youth in the criminal justice system. Both represent a profound tragedy.
Louisiana cannot afford to accept this as the new normal. If we do, we are surrendering our children to a cycle of violence that will consume yet another generation.
I keep asking the question, what can we do as a country, collectively, to stem this scourge? There are no easy answers, but we have to think out of the box.
We must invest in early childhood education, strengthen families, expand access to mental health services, create meaningful opportunities for young people, support effective community policing, and hold violent offenders accountable. Churches, schools, businesses, nonprofits, and neighborhood leaders must work together instead of operating in separate silos.
Every young life lost is a failure not only of an individual but of all of us. We cannot arrest our way out of this crisis, nor can we simply legislate our way out. We must rebuild the communities where these children live, learn, and dream.
Louisiana cannot accept violence as a way of life. Every child deserves the chance to grow into adulthood, pursue their dreams, and live without fear. If we fail to act, more families will bury their children, more communities will mourn, and another generation will be lost.
The measure of a society is not how it responds after a child is killed, but what it does to prevent the next child from becoming either the victim or the shooter. And that’s my take.