Think you can’t do anything to curb gun violence in Philadelphia? Think again.

Recently, while conducting research on Philadelphia during the 1950s, I came across a headline from the Jan. 12, 1955, edition of The Inquirer: “8th Youth Jailed in Gang War Slaying.”

How little has changed.

Last week, 11 Philadelphia children were shot near public transit, the latest shootings in a seemingly never-ending cycle. Since then, local news and radio talk shows have been inundating us with discussions on curbing violence in the city. Blame will be attributed to politicians, law enforcement, parents, educators, and perpetrators of gun violence.

There is plenty of blame to go around. But while people point fingers, we often forget to point them at ourselves. All of us have to take some responsibility for the violence that is plaguing our youth.

As a native Philadelphian (raised in Mount Airy, graduated from Germantown High School), a father, an educator, and an activist, these issues are very important to me.

I believe there are two critical issues we tend to neglect when addressing gun violence:

Though we may lament senseless violence, we cannot just throw our hands up because there is no obvious, immediate solution, nor sit around waiting for someone else to figure it out. The need for a collective effort is paramount.

The need for a collective effort is paramount.

The problem of gun violence in Philadelphia isn’t confined to specific city sectors, nor is it just the purview of nonprofits, schools, or law enforcement. Every resident, regardless of profession, contributes to the problem — whether by apathy, fear of engaging with youth, or failure to volunteer.

For example, professionals — blue and white collar — who live and work in the city but don’t share their time, talent, and treasure are a part of the problem. Adults who avoid young people because of fear are a part of the problem. Adults who look forward to the next party or social gathering but cannot find time to volunteer are a part of the problem. Religious institutions that fail to try and connect with those who are turned off by organized religion are a part of the problem. Universities that engage local communities in superficial and condescending ways — perhaps claiming they are community-focused but doing little to fight against gentrification and the continued dismantling of historic areas — are a part of the problem.

Pitching into the problems facing the city can take many different forms, depending on what skills and experience you bring to the table. For example, since I was 18 years old, in whichever city I found myself (Philadelphia, Charlotte, N.C., Chicago), I have offered my services as a scholar on African American history and politics to churches, schools, and grassroots organizations. Currently, I am working with the Philadelphia and New Jersey public schools to host a convention for high school students aimed at finding solutions to our society’s biggest problems.

Your talent may be as a chef, mechanic, carpenter, plumber, singer, artist, social media influencer, barber or stylist, marketing whiz, writer, athlete, comedian, and so on. As Martin Luther King Jr. once said, “You don’t have to have a college degree to serve.”

Whenever gun violence happens, the first instinct is to search for and punish the perpetrators. That’s a natural instinct. But it misses that far too many Philadelphians — especially young ones — are ravaged by abstract forms of violence before even entering high school.

These abstract forms of violence include various forms of “societal neglect”: poor education, food deserts, lack of mentorship, and racial or economic discrimination. And by focusing mostly on punishment, those other forms of violence remain largely unaddressed.

Societal neglect has a profound effect. Last year, I taught a summer class on Malcolm X and King at Riverside Correctional Facility in Northeast Philadelphia. There, teens awaiting trial for murder expressed feeling disregarded by the larger society. “No one cares about us,” one young man told me. I replied that I do and multiple people dismissed my assertion. “You’re getting paid to be here,” they insisted. When I told them I was not being paid and was there out of love and concern, they couldn’t fathom why I would do such a thing.

Those young men were hurt by abstract forms of violence long before they ever picked up a weapon. (Think I’m making excuses for them? Then you are part of the problem.)

» READ MORE: Kids get shot and killed every other week in Philadelphia. Can Mayor Parker stop the violence? | Editorial

King called for a revolution of values against the three evil forces in our society: racism, excessive materialism, and militarism (war), and believed that we had enough resources and talent to address the pervasive problems in this country — and the world — but failed to do so.

He was correct, then and now.

Philadelphia cannot bandage its gun problem with legislation and incarceration alone and has more than enough talent — intellectual, philanthropic, artistic, and the like — to tackle the deeper problems that lead young people to feel like society has abandoned them, and that violence is their only future.

It requires a concerted effort from each of us to cultivate communities where youth cherish life. And that starts by demonstrating their worth.

Kelly Harris is the senior staff director of the Center for Africana Studies at the University of Pennsylvania.