TL;DR
- Two children killed, 17 others injured in Minneapolis Catholic school shooting.
- Attacker identified as 23-year-old Robin Westman, who died by suicide.
- FBI probing incident as domestic terrorism and anti-Catholic hate crime.
- Shooter’s transgender identity sparks political firestorm and anti-LGBTQ rhetoric.
- City leaders demand action against gun violence, not just “thoughts and prayers.”
Minneapolis Catholic School Horror Leaves City Reeling
The first week of school in Minneapolis turned into a nightmare Wednesday morning when bullets ripped through the windows of Annunciation Catholic Church and its adjoining school, leaving two children dead and 17 others injured. The alleged attacker, 23-year-old Robin Westman, unleashed terror before turning a gun on herself in what investigators are calling an act of domestic terrorism.
Authorities say Westman arrived dressed head-to-toe in black, carrying a rifle, shotgun, and pistol. Within minutes, glass shattered, screams erupted, and children scrambled for cover as dozens of rounds pierced the building. Police later discovered a smoke bomb and a manifesto timed for YouTube release. The FBI quickly stepped in, labeling the assault a hate crime targeting Catholics.
The tragedy unfolded just after 8 a.m., when students were gathered for worship. Fourteen of the injured were children, some as young as six. Three elderly parishioners in their 80s were also wounded. Doctors report that several young patients required emergency surgery, though all are expected to survive.
Mayor Jacob Frey stood at the podium, visibly shaken. “These were Minneapolis families. These were American families. Don’t just say this is about ‘thoughts and prayers’ right now. These kids were literally praying.” His words struck at the heart of a community already suffocating under the weight of endless gun violence.
Shooter’s Identity Sparks Political Firestorm
Court records reveal that Westman legally changed her name from Robert to Robin in 2020, with a judge noting her identification as female. That fact has already become fuel for conservative officials and right-wing pundits eager to weaponize the tragedy. Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem described Westman as “a man, claiming to be transgender,” while others echoed similar rhetoric online.
Mayor Frey was quick to push back, slamming attempts to smear the transgender community for one individual’s violence. “Hatred will not heal Minneapolis,” he declared, urging residents to reject scapegoating. LGBTQ advocates echoed his warning, stressing that already vulnerable queer and trans people could now face intensified hostility.
This isn’t just another school shooting. It’s a collision of America’s most volatile debates: guns, religion, and gender identity. Instead of mourning quietly, politicians are already sharpening their talking points, some to call for stronger laws, others to vilify queer lives.
Families Grieve, Queer Lives at Risk
The grief is raw. Parents clutched each other outside hospitals, priests led tearful prayers, and children clung to stuffed animals in shock. One fifth-grader told local reporters that his best friend saved his life by shielding him from bullets. That friend, Victor, is now recovering from a gunshot wound. “I was super scared for him,” the boy whispered, “but I think now he’s okay.”
For queer families in Minneapolis, this moment cuts even deeper. While Catholics are the direct victims, LGBTQ people know too well how tragedy gets twisted into a weapon against them. The rush to misgender the shooter, to pin violence on her transgender identity, risks fanning flames of hatred that put trans kids in even more danger.
The LGBTQ community mourns alongside Catholic families, standing firmly against violence in all its forms. At the same time, advocates demand that politicians stop demonizing queer lives as a distraction from America’s real epidemic: unchecked access to guns.
The Bigger Picture
As flags fly at half-mast, America finds itself in a grimly familiar cycle—thoughts, prayers, outrage, and political theater. But this time, the stakes feel even higher. A massacre in a church where children prayed collides with a rising tide of anti-LGBTQ sentiment. And unless lawmakers break the cycle, queer people may pay an extra price for a tragedy they didn’t cause.
Principal Matt DeBoer, speaking through tears, pleaded with the nation: “Pray with our feet.” His words echo what queer and Catholic families alike demand—action, not empty condolences. Because if children can’t be safe in church, where can anyone feel safe at all?