On Dec. 1, 1997, my twin sister Mandy and I were attending a prayer circle in the lobby of our high school, Heath, in West Paducah. It was part of our routine every day school was in session during our sophomore year, but that morning was unlike any other. A 14-year-old boy brought a .22 hand gun, rifles and a sawed-off shotgun wrapped in a blanket. He pulled the .22 out of his backpack and opened fire as we ended our prayer and headed to class. He hit eight students, killing three.

I was one of the most seriously wounded. The bullet entered into my left shoulder, bouncing around in my body (that’s what I learned a .22 can do), missing my heart, hitting my lung, then passing perfectly in between my esophagus and aorta, hitting my spinal cord, and then exiting on the right side of my back — not even leaving my shirt. My injury left me paralyzed from the chest down. Little did I know how much that day would change my life forever.

It has been 26 years since that day. I spent five months in the hospital recovering from my injury and learning to use the wheelchair so I could live my life again. It forced a huge lifestyle change not only for me, but for my family as well. Every day they now must consider me and my wheelchair first as they make decisions. I am now married and have two boys ages 13 and 16. Instead of me taking care of them, they have had to take care of me. After years of overuse of my arms due to the wheelchair, I have injuries such as a torn rotator cuff, a torn tendon and severe carpel tunnel, which make it very difficult to do simple things like dressing and transferring in and out of my wheelchair. I am only 42 years old, and I’m scared of what my future may bring.

Although I have had to deal with life in a wheelchair, I have been inspired to use my experience to help prevent future gun violence. I became a motivational speaker and an author of two books titled, “I Choose to be Happy” and “Lessons from a School Shooting Survivor.” I also became a school counselor for at-risk middle and high school students, hoping I could help students like the shooter who desperately needed someone to talk to.

That’s where the Crisis Aversion and Rights Retention Bill comes in — Senate Bill 13. CARR supports responsible gun ownership by providing time and help for those at risk of harming themselves or others. The shooter at my school had access to firearms and used them as he dealt with mental health issues. He thought the only solution was to harm others by using a firearm, but the only thing he accomplished was making a decision that put him behind bars for life and forced others to live out the consequences of his decision.

More than 30 years of research tells us that 80% of mass shooters express their intent to others. With CARR in place, family or friends can take action before those kinds of life-changing decisions are made. They can ask a court to transfer a person’s guns to another trusted party — until the mental crisis has passed, and it’s safe for that person to have their guns again. And when a minor is threatening harm, CARR can ensure any gun owners in the home secure firearms to prevent access. The bill protects a gun owner’s rights as well as their safety — and the safety of others.

Gun violence ends so many young lives before they can even begin and permanently alters the lives of those who remain. CARR can help change that, and we should ask Senate President Stivers, Speaker Osborne, and Members of the Kentucky General Assembly to put this critical tool in place.