Maya, 13, stood just beyond the yellow police tape, watching as waves of heavily armed police officers locked down the area around the mosque. Hours before, three people had been shot and killed at the Islamic Center of San Diego: the largest mosque in the county, and an important neighborhood gathering spot and place of worship for Maya’s family and many others.
The seventh-grader, whose mother gave her permission to speak to the media, tapped her nails nervously against her phone. Her teeth chattered in the 70-degree California heat. The gravity of the situation was beginning to sink in in real time, as more people gathered at the scene.
“Oh my God,” she said, both watching the officers patrol the surrounding streets and fielding FaceTimes from her friends. “Like it doesn’t feel real.”
Across San Diego and broader southern California, friends, family and strangers are reeling after the latest American mass shooting, an attack that authorities said was being investigated as a hate crime. The suspected shooters – two teenagers, one 17 and one 18 – reportedly died from self-inflicted gunshot wounds.
Outside the mosque and the police tape, emotions were raw and unfiltered on Monday afternoon, in a setting that felt both horrific and business-as-usual.
Terrified parents reunited with their children, many of whom attend an on-site school, at a temporary “reunification center” nearby. News crews set up shots, making sure the mosque was visible in the background. Local officials arranged press conferences a few blocks from the mosque at regular intervals.
For Maya, the shocking event hit close to home – she said her grandfather worked at the mosque as a security guard. So as the news started to break, and her friends texted in flurries, she immediately thought of him. Once she called her mom, the middle schooler finally found out her grandfather was safe – he wasn’t scheduled to work on Monday.
“It’s such a crazy thing, like he always works during this time. So just thinking like he could have been hurt today …” Maya trailed off, choking up.
Maya said she knew the three victims from family gatherings and from Ramadan, when she would see them every day. Among those killed include another security guard, whom Maya remembered as a “really sweet” person.
“He sacrificed his life to save everyone else’s,” she added.
In the wake of the shooting, statements of support poured in and political and community leaders rushed to condemn the attack.
“We have never experienced a tragedy like this before, and at this moment, all what I can say is sending our prayers and standing in solidarity with all the families in our community here and also the other mosques, and all the places of worship in our beautiful city should always be protected,” Taha Hassane, an imam and director of the center, said on Monday. “It is a house of worship. It’s not a battlefield.”
Outside the mosque, one man, who preferred only to go by the first name Jesus, said he had just started attending the Islamic Center of San Diego about a month ago, when he moved to California from New York. He was even planning to stop by the mosque on Monday at noon, around the time of the shooting, but had a last-minute job interview instead.
“And then I get a WhatsApp text saying. ‘Don’t come to the mosque, shots fired.’” he said. Jesus sped over anyway. “All I see is police running with guns and ARs, and people crying. And I just didn’t know how to react. I just want to be there for the community in any way I can.”
Jesus said he would be back at the mosque as soon as they open back up again.
“The Islamophobia going on in this country – that’s not going to stop me from praying five times a day, it’s not going to stop me from standing with my community. It’s not going to stop me from advocating for our people,” he said. “If anything, it’s making me want to do it more.”
Many others who don’t have personal ties to the mosque also gathered around the chaotic scene on Monday.
One 16-year-old named Tommy had just come from Madison high school, only about a mile from the site of the shooting – and reportedly the school that one of the suspected shooters had also attended through an online course.
When the shots were first fired nearby, the high school went into lockdown, Tommy said. He and a handful of students and staff headed to what seemed like the closest secure place – the cafeteria kitchen – where they locked the doors and waited for further instructions. He guessed that about half an hour went by before they could leave the kitchen.
Now, Tommy has gotten somewhat desensitized to the frantic, terrifying moments that accompany American shootings. The teenager is originally from Vietnam, and he has only been in the United States for about a year and a half. But the shooting lockdown on Monday was already the second lockdown his school had this year alone.
“It goes with the stereotypes that I have heard about America,” he said, looking out at the police tape and the armed officers and the flashing lights.
