I graduated from Hesston College in 2015. It’s only a two year school, with most graduating classes under 200. To say that everyone knew everyone or at least knew their name is not an overstatement. So when I left Kansas, a part of my heart stayed behind.

After I graduated, I transferred to Goshen College (I’m a sucker for those small liberal arts colleges and student loans). Even though I’m enjoying my time at Goshen, I still have a strong connection to Hesston. And my heart hurt with them on Feb. 25, 2016.

My sister lives right across the street from the campus in Hesston, and that evening she sent me a text saying there had been a shooting in town. She said two people had been killed. I let the news wash over me. When I got the text, I was at a high school basketball game in Ohio, and I didn’t realize the scope of this tragedy.

By the time the game was over, the death count was up to four with even more injured, and it was in the national news. There it was, splashed all over CNN, NPR, The New York Times, USAToday, these big news outlets that had probably never heard of Hesston, Kansas, before today.

I was in disbelief; I felt sick. I was afraid to text my friend, knowing that her mom and brother worked at Excel (the factory where the shooting took place). One of my former professors had heard the gunshots from her house. Another friend of mine was waiting for them to release the names of the injured/killed in fear that she would know some of them. I have a number of friends on that campus and in that town. All I could do was send emoji hearts, in the hopes that it would convey how much I loved them. I felt powerless and my mind felt foggy.

I wanted to cry, but was afraid I couldn’t justify it. After all, I didn’t know anyone who had been killed or injured (my friend’s mom and brother had left for the day before the shooting started). All of my friends at the college were unharmed. My sister was safe.

Why was I crying?

So I texted another friend I had went to Hesston with, one who hadn’t grown up in the town. She felt the same way, shocked and hurting, but aware that there were people much closer to the situation, to the victims.

But I love that community. It was my home for two years. I didn’t grow up there, but I did a lot of growing while I was there. I made lifelong friends and unforgettable memories.

And what was I supposed to do with that? I was in Ohio on the tail end of spring break, getting ready to head back to Goshen, Indiana, hours away from Kansas. Sure, people on campus knew about what happened, but as a whole there wasn’t any recognition of the pain the people in Hesston were going through. Even if there had been, the students wouldn’t be able to truly understand the pain, unless they had a connection to Hesston.

But isn’t that how all mass shootings are? We say, “That’s sad,” and then move on because we aren’t affected on a personal level. Less than a week before the Hesston shooting was the killing spree of the Uber driver in Kalamazoo, Michigan, but that had been all but forgotten in the wake of Hesston.

With the national attention the shooting received, I thought that from then on, every time I said I had attended Hesston College, someone would bring it up. But I don’t know that it affected people enough for that. I haven’t heard the Hesston shooting mentioned in the last few weeks, except for people in Hesston picking up the pieces.

Here we are, a month later. Hesston is a mere memory for most people -- another stop along the never-ending gun control issue and more fire for the current political landscape.

To me, it’s a second home, the place I met some of my best friends, the college that gave me an education while nurturing my faith and personal growth, a safe place.

But don’t forget that every town or city that is hit by a mass shooting has people experiencing these same feelings. We need to care about them all, not just the ones we’re personally affected by. We need to use this pain and grief to make some positive change. Whether you think that means we need more guns or more gun laws, it doesn’t matter.

We need to care more in general. Don’t make an argument for your personal agenda or just to make an argument. Make an argument because you care about the people (not just yourself) who will be affected. Refuse to be desensitized in a culture where pain and suffering are a near constant feature in the news.

It’s been a little over a month. We don’t need to talk about it all of the time, but we shouldn’t have forgotten yet.