Forged in Community
In college, my roommate had a habit of going to the rental store, grabbing a movie with good box art, and bringing it home. Some of the movies were downright awful, but others stuck with me.
One of those movies was Touchback. I liked it so much that I bought a copy to watch regularly.
It follows Scott Murphy, a high school football star from the small town of Coldwater. On the final play of the state championship, he blows out his knee—destroying his dream of playing for Ohio State. Years later, he's a struggling farmer with a family, haunted by what could have been.
Then something miraculous happens: he wakes up back in his senior year, just days before the game. He’s given the chance to rewrite everything.
But in this second chance, he begins to see his town—and his life—differently.
One conversation with his coach stands out. Scott offers to get him out of Coldwater, onto the Ohio State coaching staff.
The coach thanks him, but says he’s exactly where he’s meant to be. He tells Scott that when he was younger, he couldn’t wait to leave… but once he did, he couldn’t wait to come back.
That moment made me reflect.
Growing up, I didn’t think too highly of Kansas or my local community. I’d often ask people, half-jokingly, why anyone would move to Kansas of all places. As many young men, I didn't appreciate the blessings I was given.
I wanted somewhere else—anywhere but here.
Every time I thought of leaving, one thing kept me rooted in Kansas: my community
One of the great benefits of America is the freedom to go where we wish—to move, to explore, to chase opportunity. But that same freedom has contributed to the breakdown of local community.
And when real, embodied community disappears, something else always tries to take its place. In our time, that substitute is often the internet. But digital connection—however helpful—can never match the formative power of real people, in real places.
This loss leaves a void. And for men especially, that void becomes dangerous.
As men, we need something to ground us.
We need a community to form us, to call us out when we go astray, to build us up when we falter.
Our communities—whether they were good, bad, or somewhere in between—shaped us into who we are today.
Think about your own story:
- The teams you rooted for
- The movies you watched
- The friends who stood by you
- The adults who believed in you
- The father figures who taught you how to be men
These aren’t just background details.
They permeate and form who we are.
No community is perfect. But if we’re honest, most of us are deeply indebted to the people and places that raised us.
And here’s the thing: once we learn to appreciate where we came from, we’re in a position to give back.
To help shape the next generation.
To make our communities places of strength, virtue, and hope.
Your Challenge This Week
Pause and reflect:
- Who in your community helped shape you?
- What part of your upbringing do you now appreciate more?
- How can you give that same gift to someone else?
We often think of legacy in big, flashy terms.
But sometimes, legacy is just being faithful to the place that formed you.
Forge ahead.
Anvil: the place of formation.
Arrow: the mission we’re sent on.
Member discussion