Mt. Zion

To understand a man, you must understand the world he comes from, the paint that colors his thoughts, the people that raised him up. To understand a man is to understand his home.

My home is a simple place–a small town with good people. It’s an ancient village that has withstood the test of time. The town grew up around the seminary, established in 1880, which later became Mt. Zion High School. There is a deep and old magic at work in that rural, hallowed ground that has transformed the community into something more.

The geography of the town isn’t nearly as important as the people. The citizens of Mt. Zion, my friends and family, are what make it the amazing place that it is. There’s a palpable sense of unity in that world, something so separate from anything else I’ve experienced. Every time I go back to that place I’m enveloped in a warmth that permeates everything.

Family means something different in that town. It’s your neighbor, your classmate, your fellow citizen; everyone is your family and everyone sticks to that unspoken code.

An environment like that changes the people that live there. We are taught to watch out for each other, to accept each other, and above all to love each other. This town has raised me to be who I am today, and I could not be more thankful or proud of where I come from.