A personal look at the cost of gunfire: North Minneapolis community offering hope and healing
MINNEAPOLIS -- At least 150 people have been shot in Minneapolis and St. Paul. That's more than one person a day. Last year that number climbed to 793 in just the Twin Cities. Each person a bullet pierces faces recovery and has a family or someone who cares about them who also endure the trauma.
So what is the cost of gunfire? It costs roughly $22,000 to treat a patient with a gunshot wound at Hennepin Healthcare. In 2021, they treated 142 people. Last year it was 120. But those are just numbers.
And as Jennifer Mayerle shares, behind every bullet is a real person who knows firsthand the true cost of gunfire.
Xaveon Brown says he went down the only road he knew to follow. Today, he's living with his choices.
"Only being 22 and being shot 11 times, it's more of a lot of gut decisions that got me here," Xaveon said.
Xaveon is in a wheelchair. A T-7 paraplegic after taking that 11th bullet at the end of 2020.
"He only shot one. Close range. Just dropped the clip. Picked it up and ran off," Xaveon said.
He thinks he was targeted.
"What age did you join a gang?" Mayerle asked.
"I was at what 6, 7 when I joined," Xaveon said.
He says he wanted to be independent. And without a father figure, he turned to the streets.
He says the life was stressful.
"Every day having to look over your shoulder or having to worry about going to jail or not having enough money to bail out," Xaveon said.
The first time he was shot, he was only 13 or 14.
"I'd say right before I had my daughter in 2014," Xaveon said.
He describes what happened the first time.
"I was shot in the leg with a 12 gauge shotgun. That was the first one. Back then I was looking for money to come up and I was car shopping and ripping and running the streets, stealing cars, like just doing dumb stuff, and karma caught up to me very quick that day," Xaveon said.
He says he was shot several more times over the course of about two years.
"I was like target practice. Yeah, for two years straight I was back and forth in the hospital from getting shot left and right. The recovery was just like… I couldn't even get the opportunity to recover. Kept on getting shot," Xaveon said.
Mayerle asked about the toll on his body, mind and well-being.
"The toll, I'm surprised I can sit here and smile right now. At times I do be wanting to just like give up, but I know that there's something out there for me," Xaveon said.
That something for Xaveon is his family, who haven't left his side. His then-girlfriend, now fiancé, and his mom, Maine.
"If you love them and you care about that person, you're going to feel something. And it's going to change something in your head or in your heart. He feels so bad, but your life choices came up on your mom your sister and your grand momma. Now we got to pay for you being shot and that hurt you. I know it hurt you," Maine said.
But Xaveon isn't the only one hurting.
"The person that got shot like, 'Well y'all don't have to deal with this.' Yes, we do. Yes, we do. We had to deal with his mood swings. We had to deal with him snapping out of the blue. Like and just had to accept it because he dealing with something," Maine said.
Maine tries to focus on how she can help her son. At times when she lets her mind think about what's happened, it can get pretty dark.
"It's like somebody dying, it never heals. So, I'm never going to say it's okay or I'm fine or it don't hurt no more. He may not be dead but it's a totally different life than he had. And it hurts and it's different," Maine said.
"I think about people's whose bodies, their minds, are never the same," Pastor Edrin Williams of Sanctuary Covenant Church said.
Sanctuary Covenant Church is across the street from the Winner Gas Station where Xaveon was shot.
The community calls the spot at Broadway and Lyndale in North Minneapolis "murder station."
"I see many young men, up and down the street here. Many of them with the colostomy bag or young guys who should be running around playing sports, pushing one of their friends in a wheelchair and you just wonder about how their quality of life is impacted forever. That kind of cost," Williams said.
Williams incorporates the reality of living in the city into his Sunday sermons while trying to cast a light on a hopeful future. And says the church shows up for families in the wake of gun violence.
"We're checking in on moms who've lost sons. We're providing diapers to adults who can't go to the bathroom on their own anymore. We're financially supporting families who can't make ends meet because someone who is a breadwinner. Their life has been impacted. That's a regular thing for us," Williams said.
He sees the pain, witnesses the struggle, and wonders with all the gun violence if people take time to really heal.
"If we don't heal, we'll continue to hurt one another," Williams said.
Carmita McGlory counsels individuals and families impacted by gunfire about a mile away from the church at North Point.
"It costs the lives of people but the livelihood of people," McGlory said.
Those people may be triggered by the sound of gunfire, someone who's lost a loved one to gun violence.
She also works with people who have been shot.
"We talk about living life again, and making moves, and trying to restore, reframe and redirect your life. It's deep work. We have to probe. We have to begin to understand how we are patient with the stories and narratives of these people," McGlory said.
She works with people to get uncomfortable, to dig deep and try to heal.
"What were some of their childhood trauma experiences, why would we have to do problem-solving with guns? Then we begin to have people understand that although they have been a victim of this level of violence, they don't necessarily have to continue to let this direct the rest of their lives," McGlory said.
Mayerle asked if she worries about the people that don't get help.
"Most definitely. Because it is the level of overwhelming emotional experience that is tragic. It's traumatic. It is it's not only anxiety provoking and provokes depression, but it can alter the rest of a life of a person," McGlory said.
Xaveon lives in constant pain. He deals with leg spasms, fights depression, and is reminded daily of the last bullet that pierced his arm.
"This pain is something like so unbelievable. It keeps you up at night, even if you've been up for a week. This pain will keep you up. It won't let you get a wink. I try to forget it, but that's one thing my body is not going to let me do is to forget that," Xaveon said.
He knows he could benefit from therapy. But says it's not his focus right now. Mayerle asked, "What for you is a good day?"
"That first breath in the morning to know I accomplished at least a couple of my goals, making sure I eat twice a day. That's a good day for me," Xaveon said.
Xaveon does want what's happened in his life to help others. He hopes other young people will see joining a gang is not worth it.
There are places to turn to. Below is a list of some resources for survivors and families:
Office of Justice Programs: Crime Victim Assistance
Minnesota Association for Children's Mental Health
