Like many parents, I have been carrying a photo of my son with me everywhere I go for years. Unlike many of them, I have a child who never ages: my son George was shot and killed on July 17, 1996.

My photos of my son remind me of the days before I had to tell my grandson Gabriel, on his sixth birthday, that his father had died. I wouldn’t wish the scream I heard on the other end of the line on my enemies.

Although I have turned my pain into purpose as president of the anti-gun violence group Brady California

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I trudge through each day with unanswered questions, one of which resonates loudest: Who killed my son? That’s because my son’s killer was never brought to justice.

Not knowing who committed the murder

George

is unfathomably difficult, but not unusual. California’s homicide clearance rate has been around or below 65% for the past decade. That means more than a third of murders in the United States remain unsolved, leaving families and communities to bury the people they love without ever knowing who committed the crime. And in many California cities and counties with disproportionately high gun violence rates, homicide rates are even lower than the state’s disappointing average.

Closure is restorative and heals our souls and communities. Knowing the full story of a murder can break cycles of violence and save lives in the process. But I and thousands of mothers, fathers, and families in the Black and brown communities hardest hit by gun violence are denied that knowledge.

I lead the San Francisco chapter of Mothers in Charge, an organization of mothers, grandmothers, wives, sisters, girlfriends and other women who have lost loved ones to senseless gun violence. Most of our member cases remain unresolved. My friend Paula Dix, who runs the group’s LA chapter, lost her only son to a fatal shooting that remains unsolved fourteen years later.

These unresolved cases perpetuate a vicious cycle of fear, violence and hopelessness. The perceived disinterest in tracking down a murderer of a loved one is eroding confidence in the police. It may even lead some people to arm themselves, despite the risks of owning a gun, because they feel that the authorities cannot or will not protect them.

If this happens to one family, it’s a tragedy. When it is extended to an entire community affected by gun violence, it becomes a crisis. And Black Californians are feeling the weight of this crisis more than most: research consistently shows that when a victim of gun violence is Black, cases are even less likely to be solved.

I am grateful for Governor Gavin Newsom’s recent attention to this issue in announcing rewards for unsolved murders across the state. But we can go much further with legislation to ensure that fewer families experience this pain.

Last week, I traveled to Sacramento with George’s photo in my hands to advocate for LA-area Assemblymember Mike Gipson’s bill to provide more transparency and justice for survivors like me. Assembly Bill 2913 would create a process for family members to request reports of files on unsolved murders. Families deserve a new re-examination of these so-called cold cases.

If we find out who pulled the trigger in more of these crimes, we can work backward through the lifespan of the firearms involved. We can demand accountability from gun sellers, put irresponsible dealers out of business, and stop the flow of illegal guns into communities. And now that trust in our government and justice systems has been restored, we can use community violence intervention programs to move us closer to a future without gun violence.

By closing more gun homicide cases, we can make law enforcement part of the healing process, break the cycles of killing the people we love, and gain more of the peace we deserve.

Mattie Scott is the president of Brady California and the founder of Healing 4 Our Families & Our Nation.