A father’s anguished voice cut through the national grief in Canada this week as he begged the public and media to shift focus from the shooter to the innocent children whose lives were brutally ended in one of the country’s worst mass shootings. Lance, father of 12-year-old Kylie, spoke with raw emotion about his daughter — described as a “beautiful soul” full of dreams and creativity — who was among the victims gunned down in a devastating attack that claimed multiple young lives.
Kylie was just three months shy of her 13th birthday when the tragedy unfolded. Her father emphasized that she had a gentle, artistic spirit, deeply passionate about anime and drawing. She spent hours sketching characters from her favorite shows, dreaming aloud about one day moving to Toronto to pursue formal art studies and build a future surrounded by the creative energy of a big city. Those dreams were shattered in an instant, leaving behind a family forever changed and a community reeling from the loss of its children.
In a powerful public statement, Lance refused to let the shooter dominate the narrative. “If you want to put someone’s picture up on the news, put my daughter’s picture up,” he said firmly. “Let’s stop giving this psychopath the recognition.” His words carried a clear message: the spotlight should honor the victims — bright, hopeful young people whose futures were stolen — rather than feed notoriety to the perpetrator. He described the children lost as “kids who were lost before they even became teenagers,” underscoring the unbearable injustice of lives ended before they could fully begin.
The plea resonated deeply across Canada and beyond, where debates about media coverage of mass shooters have intensified in recent years. Many experts and victim advocates argue that excessive focus on the attacker’s name, face, and manifesto can inspire copycat violence and inflict secondary trauma on grieving families. Lance’s call echoed those concerns, urging society to remember the humanity of those taken rather than amplify the darkness that ended them.
Friends and classmates remembered Kylie as kind, creative, and always willing to share her artwork. Teachers noted her quiet talent and enthusiasm for Japanese animation, often encouraging her to enter local art contests. One close friend shared that Kylie had recently finished a detailed drawing of her favorite anime character as a birthday gift to herself, planning to frame it once she turned 13. That small, personal dream now stands as a heartbreaking symbol of everything she will never get to experience.
Lance’s message extended beyond grief into a universal warning for parents everywhere. “Hold your kids tight. Tell them you love them every day, because you never know,” he said, his voice breaking. The words struck a chord with families nationwide, prompting an outpouring of support, candlelight vigils, and social media posts featuring children’s artwork, family photos, and messages of love. Many parents reported hugging their own kids a little longer that night, whispering “I love you” more often, shaken by the reminder of life’s fragility.
The shooting itself has left deep scars on the community. Multiple children were killed in what authorities have called a targeted act of violence, with early investigations pointing to a lone gunman who opened fire in a public space frequented by families and youth. Police have not yet released the suspect’s identity publicly, aligning in part with growing calls to limit glorification of mass killers. Community leaders and mental health professionals have urged focus on healing, support services for grieving families, and stronger gun safety measures to prevent future tragedies.
Kylie’s story has become a focal point for that healing. Fundraisers have sprung up to support art scholarships in her name, with donors hoping to honor her passion by helping other young artists chase their dreams. Local schools plan memorial art exhibits featuring student work inspired by anime and fantasy themes — a quiet tribute to a girl who found joy and expression through creativity even in her short life.
Her father’s refusal to name the shooter has been praised as an act of dignity and resistance. By centering Kylie’s smile, her sketches, her big-city aspirations, he reclaims the narrative from violence to love, from destruction to the quiet beauty of a child’s imagination. Psychologists note that such victim-centered storytelling can aid collective mourning and reduce the psychological power of the perpetrator in the public mind.
As Canada grapples with yet another tragedy involving young lives, Lance’s words serve as both lament and call to action. They remind a nation — and the world — that behind every statistic is a child with dreams, a family shattered, a future erased. The plea to “hold your kids tight” has become a viral refrain online, shared thousands of times with photos of smiling children, handwritten notes saying “I love you,” and artwork reminiscent of Kylie’s own style.
In the days and weeks ahead, as investigations continue and memorials take shape, the image of a 12-year-old girl who loved anime and dreamed of Toronto may become the enduring symbol of this loss. Not the weapon, not the attacker’s face — but a child’s drawing, a father’s tears, and a simple, devastating truth: life can change forever in a moment. For Kylie’s family and every parent who hears Lance’s voice, the message remains painfully clear — cherish every day, every hug, every “I love you,” because tomorrow is never promised.
