John–

I'll never forget the drive home to Newtown. I stopped at the top of Castle Hill Road and looked down at the flagpole surrounded by churches, lights blazing in the darkness. The view framed by the bare branches of the trees was the same as it had been since a classmate sketched it on the cover of our yearbook, but the December sky seemed darker and yet impossibly clear.

I had looked out over that view so many times growing up. Now, as I sat in my car, I braced myself for what it would be like to drive down into Sandy Hook after so much devastation. My heart broke for the families in their unbearable grief. My heart hurt for our town, now synonymous with unspeakable tragedy.

It's been 10 years and yet it feels like no time has passed at all. I'm a mother myself now, and as I reflect back on December 14, 2012, I still struggle to find words. I'm angry that the Sandy Hook School shooting wasn't the end of the fight for stronger gun safety laws. But I'm not alone in my anger, and I'm inspired by the many advocates who, like me, found their purpose in the gun violence prevention movement.

What started as a group of moms online is now a 10 million-strong grassroots movement. Together, we've changed the politics of gun safety. Together, we've passed the most significant federal legislation in a generation. Together, we've shown that the gun industry's money and influence are nothing compared to the preciousness of our families' lives.

There is so much more to be done, in honor of the 26 children and educators who were killed in Sandy Hook and the more than 40,000 Americans who are shot and killed each year, as well as the millions of gun violence survivors who live with lifelong trauma.

But while the name of my hometown will always stand for heartbreak, it now also stands for hope.

John, we can't give up hope that an America free from gun violence is possible. Join me in taking the pledge and recommitting yourself to this urgent fight in the coming year.

These 10 years have been hard. When callous politicians repeatedly offer only thoughts and prayers, when communities like Uvalde are shattered by the very same heartbreak, when pundits cynically proclaim the "debate is over" and nothing can change, I'm furious. We can't stop now.

So whenever my cup feels empty and I need to find that hope, I look to the gun violence survivors and families of victims in our movement who continue to turn their pain into purpose year after year. It is in their honor and alongside them that we do this life saving work. It is because of them that I can't give up.

Ten years ago, I watched the background of my childhood transform into a backdrop for the international media. Our community pool parking lot became a stopover for idling satellite trucks. The stage that once held my high school band concerts became the scene of an interfaith vigil with President Obama. The church where I made my first communion transformed into a solemn space for the funerals of precious children and educators taken from their families far too soon.

On December 14, 2012, the world asked in anguish: why and how. While the why remains elusive, the how is clear: easy access to guns by someone who should have never had them.

I will do everything in my power to keep it from happening again. Will you join me? Sign the pledge to take action in 2023.

Thank you for joining us in our fight to save lives. This work has never been more important.

Kaelyn Forde
Associate Director of Field and Volunteer Communications
Moms Demand Action