On a cold January day in 2023, a shocking event at Richneck Elementary School in Newport News, Virginia, would ripple across the nation and ignite fierce debate about school safety, accountability, and the unimaginable: a 6-year-old student shooting his teacher. Nearly two years later, former teacher Abigail Zwerner returned to a courtroom, reliving those harrowing moments as she testified in a $40 million civil lawsuit against the school’s former assistant principal, Ebony Parker.
The facts of the case are as chilling as they are tragic. According to multiple reports from ABC News, BBC, and Court News, Zwerner was shot through her left hand and into her chest by a first-grader identified in court documents as JT. The bullet, which remains lodged in her chest, narrowly missed her heart. Zwerner’s injuries were life-threatening; she was hospitalized for nearly two weeks, underwent six surgeries, and now lives with permanent damage—her left hand has less than half its normal grip strength, and she struggles with simple daily tasks like opening a bag of chips or a water bottle.
But the physical wounds are only part of the story. Zwerner described the psychological scars left by the shooting, telling the court, “I thought I was dying, I thought I had died. I thought I was either on my way to heaven or in heaven, but then it all got black.” She recounted the moment after being shot: “My next memory is, I see two co-workers around me, and I process that I’m hurt, and they’re putting pressure on where I’m hurt.”
The civil complaint at the heart of the trial accuses Parker of gross negligence and reckless disregard for Zwerner’s safety. Zwerner and her legal team allege that Parker failed to act after being warned multiple times throughout the day that the student might have a gun. In testimony corroborated by other staff, Zwerner explained that she first heard about the possibility of a weapon from reading specialist Amy Kovac, who said two students had reported JT had a gun in his backpack. Kovac relayed this information to Parker, and later searched JT’s backpack herself during recess but found nothing. Zwerner texted Kovac that she saw JT move something from his backpack to his pocket, a detail also passed on to Parker.
Despite these warnings, Parker did not authorize a search of the student or remove him from class. Zwerner testified that she trusted Kovac, a veteran teacher, to handle communications with Parker. “I trusted Ms. Kovac. She has 20, 30 years of teaching experience over my three, two-and-a-half years,” Zwerner said in court. Asked if she ever doubted the gun was real, she told the jury, “The whole day, I was contemplating it could be real, but it also could not. When you hear the word, he told students he brought a gun with him to school, there is that possibility.”
It was only at the end of the school day, after recess, that Zwerner’s fears were confirmed. The student pulled the gun from his pocket and fired. “The look on the student’s face is the large memory that I have,” Zwerner recalled. “I do remember it was like a very blank look.”
The aftermath was swift and severe. Both Zwerner and Parker resigned from their positions. The lawsuit originally named two other school administrators and the Newport News School Board, but these defendants were dismissed before trial, leaving Parker as the sole target of the civil action.
Parker’s legal team has pushed back vigorously, arguing that the events of that day were unforeseeable. “No one could have imagined that a 6-year-old first grade student would bring a firearm to an elementary school,” Parker’s attorney, Daniel Hogan, told the jury, as reported by BBC. He raised questions that now haunt the school community: “Is it really foreseeable that a 6-year-old child would shoot their own teacher? Was that reasonably foreseeable? Was Dr. Parker indifferent? Did she fail to exercise at least some degree of care, even if it didn’t work out? Did Abby Zwerner fail to take steps for her own safety?”
Parker’s defense also suggested that Zwerner shared some responsibility, noting that she did not remove the student from class or directly confront Parker herself, instead relying on Kovac to act. The defense further argued that Zwerner’s subsequent activities—attending concerts, working at a gym, and completing cosmetology school—suggested her trauma might not be as severe as claimed. Zwerner, however, countered, “I just wanted to feel like a person again. I just felt like I needed to be pushed to do that.” Her forensic psychiatrist, Dr. Clarence Watson, explained, “It’s not just that she has psychological scars that she’s dealing with from the trauma; she has impairment in her normal functioning.” Watson described Zwerner’s recurring nightmares and episodes of passive suicidal thoughts, emphasizing the lasting psychological impact.
The trial has also revealed disturbing details about the student’s behavioral history. Staff described a pattern of violent behavior dating back to kindergarten, including an incident where the student allegedly strangled a teacher and another where he destroyed Zwerner’s phone just two days before the shooting. On the day of the shooting, Zwerner claims she told Parker that the boy was in a violent mood and had threatened another child, but Parker “had no response” and “refused to even look up” when concerns were brought to her.
As for the origin of the weapon, authorities determined the student brought the gun from home. His mother, Deja Taylor, was sentenced to two years in state prison for child neglect in connection with the shooting, and she served an additional 21 months on federal firearm and drug charges. The student, meanwhile, was not charged and is reportedly in the care of a relative, enrolled at a different school.
After Zwerner rested her case—having called 16 witnesses, including doctors, family members, coworkers, and first responders—Parker’s defense moved to strike the case, arguing that Zwerner had failed to establish the required legal duty. Newport News Circuit Court Judge Matthew Hoffman denied the motion, stating, “The court finds that there is sufficient and credible evidence that the defendant assumed a duty of care, breached that care in a grossly negligent manner and that breach was the proximate cause of the plaintiff’s harm. That will be all for the jury to decide.”
Beyond the civil case, Parker faces a separate criminal trial next month on eight counts of felony child abuse with disregard for life—one for each bullet in the gun—each count carrying up to five years in prison. The outcome of both trials may set important precedents for how schools respond to threats, the responsibilities of administrators, and the ongoing debate about gun access and child safety in America’s classrooms.
For Abigail Zwerner, the journey from that fateful day is far from over. She has left teaching, become a licensed cosmetologist, and continues to work through the physical and emotional aftermath. As the trial continues, the community—and the country—awaits answers to difficult questions about responsibility, prevention, and healing after tragedy.
