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I have begun writing this post no fewer than ten times over the past year, and each time, I fail to adequately articulate my sentiments. Since leaving the quintessential small town of Chardon, Ohio, I have been ridiculed on a number of occasions for my Northeast Ohio roots. My voice raises a few octaves as I staunchly defend my state, city, and town, but I have yet to fully convey the reasons for my unwavering loyalty. In the wake of recent tragedy, and since I cannot be present at either vigils or memorials, I am making a feeble attempt to do so.

As I scanned CNN, Fox, and Facebook throughout the workday, I initially did not feel justified in losing my appetite or shedding tears at my desk. Though I had countless connections to those involved in the tragedy, I did not personally know the victims. I cannot fathom what the victims' closest friends and family are experiencing and the scars that will remain. At the same time, this act of unadulterated evil stole from a town not only three citizens, but also its innocence - and my heart aches not only for the families directly affected, but also for the town of Chardon - my home.

The shooter attended my alma mater. Chardon High School will always hold a dear place in my heart, as I believe high school does for most adults. The sounds of a marching band on a crisp Friday night, girls proudly sporting the jerseys of their sweetheart, the best cafeteria breakfasts in the state, a gravel parking lot filled with vehicles buried in snow. These were certain certainties that carried us from year to year. For many, it was a relatively carefree time to cultivate lasting relationships. We experienced tastes of love and joy, disappointment and failure within its walls.

For me, the school did more than simply provide a safe haven where I could enjoy sweet adolescence; it also helped sculpt - and continues to sculpt - the person I would become. While other parents chose to pay exorbitant amounts of money, sending their children to highly esteemed private schools, we entered an environment every day that was, in some regards, at a disadvantage.

As a graduate of Chardon High School, I would never claim that. I looked forward to classes taught by Mr. Ricci and Mr. Brown, as I was guaranteed a satisfying sarcastic banter upon entering their classrooms, just before they reviewed complicated math theorems until we all grasped the concepts. When I was not discussing the latest NBA acquisitions in Mr. Snyder's English class, I was learning values such as leadership and personal motivation. Mrs. Rohr taught chemistry with an enthusiasm that was contagious and pushed me to excel where I would have chosen mediocrity. I saw a passion and love for their careers that I aim to mirror in all my pursuits. More than that, I saw their character when relating to the students, the manner in which they served each of us, and their dedication to providing the best possible learning environment. I would never consider trading those relationships for a $60,000 education.

The grandparents of the shooter went to my church. Of the 20 - 30 families attending, about ten fathers owned their own businesses; they worked extremely hard to build a better life for their children, and at the same time, instilled values of gratitude, sacrifice and unconditional love. One would have never guessed the amount of success represented during the Sunday service held in a middle school cafeteria as families gathered in jeans and flannels.

The shooter was a member of my community. Although it is easy to take for granted, my gratitude and appreciation for the spirit of Chardon has grown incredibly since moving. It is one not of pretension, entitlement, or superiority, but of acceptance, hard work, and humility. Yes, I see glimpses of that same spirit from time to time, but it is rare. How privileged I was to be surrounded by these values during a simple trip to the grocery store.

There will undoubtedly be flaws, but I grew up in a place that addressed those flaws and overcame rather than hiding them for reputation's sake. Even in the past 36 hours, the response of individuals, the police force, administrators and the community demonstrates this commitment to confrontation.

I refuse to believe that this was the result of a broken school system or community, because I am a product of that school system and community. I do believe the coming weeks and months will be a true testimony to the fortitude of a town that was only known for its excessive snow fall and divine maple syrup until now.

During that time, I will begin by sending thank you notes to those teachers who did influence my life, and encourage them that their labor is not in vain. I will then pray - for the families and close friends of those victims, as well as students conflicted by the harsh reality of evil. For those related to the shooter, for the shooter. And I will pray for the local authorities, administrators and community leaders as they look for solutions to restore a sobered town, a town I will always be proud to call my home.