This isn't justice. This is just the beginning.
Two years after a gunman spent more than 70 minutes killing 19 children and 2 teachers at Robb Elementary School in Uvalde, Texas, only two of the 376 officers present that day have been indicted — a measure the bereaved families receive not as relief, but as a reminder of how vast the distance remains between legal process and justice. The indictments of former school police chief Pete Arredondo and former officer Adrian Gonzales on felony child endangerment charges mark a beginning the families refuse to mistake for an end. In their grief, these parents and grandparents are pressing forward on multiple fronts — courtrooms, federal investigations, civil suits — because they understand that accountability, when it finally arrives, must be proportionate to the silence that allowed the killing to continue.
- With 376 officers on scene and only 2 indicted, families describe the charges as a fraction of a fraction — '2 out of 376% justice,' in the words of one grieving father.
- A federal investigation confirmed what surveillance footage had already shown: officers stood in hallways, delayed command decisions, and never treated the situation as an active shooter event, leaving children to die without intervention for over 70 minutes.
- Families are clear that indictments are not convictions, and convictions carrying only a few years in prison would still feel inadequate against the horror children endured in their final moments.
- Pursuing accountability beyond the police, families have filed wrongful-death lawsuits against Instagram, Activision, and gun manufacturer Daniel Defense, arguing these companies deliberately targeted and conditioned the shooter long before he was legally old enough to buy a weapon.
When two police officials were indicted in connection with the 2022 Uvalde school shooting, the families of the 21 people killed did not celebrate. Pete Arredondo, the former school police chief, and Adrian Gonzales, a former officer, now face felony charges of child endangerment and abandonment — but to those who lost children and teachers at Robb Elementary, the numbers tell a different story. Brett Cross, whose 10-year-old son Uziyah Garcia was killed, called it "two out of 376% justice," invoking the staggering number of officers who arrived that day while the gunman remained inside a fourth-grade classroom for more than 70 minutes.
Berlinda Arreola, grandmother of 9-year-old Amerie Jo Garza, said the moment felt hollow rather than hopeful. Kimberly Rubio, mother of 10-year-old Alexandria Aniyah Rubio, drew a careful line: "I am glad to see that some action was taken. But I don't want it mistaken for justice. Justice would be convictions." Jesse Rizo, uncle of 9-year-old Jacklyn Cazares, asked the question the families keep returning to — why only two people — and noted that even maximum sentences would amount to only a few years, a reckoning he found impossible to square with what the children suffered in their final moments.
A federal investigation released earlier this year documented what the Justice Department called "cascading failures": no urgency, a haphazard initial response, a delayed command post, and a refusal to classify the situation as an active shooter event. Surveillance footage captured officers in hallways, motionless, while the attack continued inside.
The families are not waiting for the criminal process alone. In May, they filed wrongful-death lawsuits against Instagram, Activision, and gun manufacturer Daniel Defense, arguing that these companies deliberately targeted and cultivated the shooter online before he was old enough to legally buy a weapon. Their attorney described a coordinated exposure — to the gun, to the ideology, to the training — that made the attack possible. For these families, accountability does not end with two indictments. It extends toward every system and institution they believe had a hand in what happened on May 24, 2022.
Two police officials have been indicted in connection with the 2022 Uvalde school shooting, but the families of the 21 people killed are making clear that these charges represent only a fraction of the accountability they believe is necessary. Pete Arredondo, the former school police chief, and Adrian Gonzales, a former officer, face multiple counts of felony child endangerment and abandonment. Yet the indictments have done little to ease the grief and anger of those who lost children and teachers in the attack on Robb Elementary School on May 24, 2022.
Brett Cross, whose 10-year-old son Uziyah Garcia was killed in the shooting, described the two indictments as "two out of 376% justice"—a reference to the 376 police officers who arrived at the school that day. The gunman, an 18-year-old, spent more than 70 minutes inside a fourth-grade classroom before being stopped, time during which officers stood in the hallway but did not engage. Berlinda Arreola, whose granddaughter Amerie Jo Garza was among the 19 children killed, told NBC that the moment felt hollow. "It's still a sad moment. There's nothing to be happy about," she said. "We are having to relive this nightmare again knowing they had the chance to save some of our loved ones—maybe all of them."
The federal investigation into the shooting, released earlier this year, documented what the Justice Department called "cascading failures" in the police response. Authorities demonstrated "no urgency," the report found, and made a series of critical errors: the initial response was haphazard, the command post was set up with delays, and officers never immediately classified the situation as an active shooter scenario. Surveillance footage released in 2022 showed officers standing in hallways while the attack continued, in one instance capturing a man in a sheriff's vest using hand sanitizer on the school wall. Attorney General Merrick Garland said the response "was a failure that should not have happened."
Kimberly Rubio, mother of 10-year-old Alexandria Aniyah Rubio, separated the indictments from justice itself. "I am glad to see that some action was taken. But I don't want it mistaken for justice. This isn't justice. This is just the beginning. Justice would be convictions," she said. She pointed to the dozens of officers who arrived early, knew children were in the classroom, knew an active shooter was present, and chose to do nothing. Jesse Rizo, uncle of 9-year-old Jacklyn Cazares, posed the question directly: "Why only two people?" He noted that even if convicted, the maximum penalties would amount to only a few years in jail—a sentence he found difficult to accept given what the children endured. "You had children that went through a lot, that saw living hell, that took their last breath on their own, the only comfort they had was each other and perhaps even themselves."
The families are pursuing additional legal avenues. In May, they filed wrongful-death lawsuits against Instagram, Activision (maker of the Call of Duty video game), and Daniel Defense, the gun manufacturer. The lawsuits argue these companies enabled the shooting by targeting and cultivating the gunman online before he was old enough to legally purchase a weapon. Josh Koskoff, an attorney for the families, described a deliberate strategy: "Well before he was old enough to purchase an AR-15 made by Daniel Defense 23 minutes after midnight on his 18th birthday, he was targeted and cultivated online by Instagram, Activision and Daniel Defense." He characterized the three companies as a "three-headed monster" that knowingly exposed the shooter to the weapon, conditioned him to see it as a solution to his problems, and trained him to use it. The families' push for accountability extends far beyond the two indictments, reaching toward the systems and actors they believe made the tragedy possible.
Citas Notables
I am glad to see that some action was taken. But I don't want it mistaken for justice. This isn't justice. This is just the beginning. Justice would be convictions.— Kimberly Rubio, mother of 10-year-old Alexandria Aniyah Rubio
The law enforcement response at Robb elementary school and then the hours and days after was a failure that should not have happened.— Attorney General Merrick Garland
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
When you say 376 officers were there, what does that number actually mean? Were they all in the building?
Not all in the building at once, but they arrived over time. The point is that by the time the shooting ended, 376 had shown up. And the gunman had 70 minutes. That's the weight of it.
The families keep saying "this isn't justice." What would justice look like to them?
Convictions, first. Real prison time that matches the scale of what happened. But also accountability beyond just two people. They're saying the entire response chain failed—the command structure, the decision-making, the officers who stood in hallways and did nothing.
Why are they suing Instagram and a video game company?
They're arguing those companies deliberately cultivated the shooter before he could even legally buy a gun. They say he was targeted, groomed almost, to see violence as a solution. Combined with access to the weapon itself, they see a pipeline.
Do the families think the two indictments are completely meaningless?
No. Kimberly Rubio said she's glad action was taken. But they're treating it as a beginning, not an ending. It's acknowledgment without resolution. The maximum sentences are short—a few years—and there are dozens of other officers they believe should face charges.
What does the federal report actually say went wrong?
No urgency. A haphazard initial response. Delays in setting up command. Officers never treating it as an active shooter situation. The Justice Department called it a failure that shouldn't have happened. There's video of officers in the hallway while it's still going on.