Scott's Turn
Every Community Needs Champions
Every successful community has them.
They are the people who look at an empty storefront and see what could be there.
They see an old building and imagine it restored. They see an underused park and imagine families gathering there. They see a struggling business and make a point to walk through the door. They hear someone say, “That will never work here,” and start wondering how to make it work anyway.
Sometimes they’re business owners. Sometimes they’re teachers, volunteers, nonprofit leaders, first responders, artists, retirees, young people, or simply residents who care deeply about the place they call home.
Sometimes they’re elected officials.
They don’t all have titles.
But every community needs them.
Every community needs champions.
Not cheerleaders who pretend everything is perfect.
Champions who recognize the problems and still believe their community is worth fighting for.
There is an important difference.
Loving a Community Doesn’t Mean Ignoring Its Problems
I’ve written before about the importance of local pride, and I think this is the natural next part of that conversation.
Having pride in Front Royal and Warren County doesn’t mean pretending we don’t have problems.
We do.
Every community does.
There are things we need to improve. There are opportunities we’ve missed. There are disagreements about where we should go next and how we should get there.
Pointing those things out isn’t necessarily negativity.
What matters is what comes afterward.
It’s easy to identify what’s wrong.
It’s much harder to ask, “What can I do to make it better?”
That’s where champions separate themselves from critics.
A critic can tell you why something won’t work.
A champion asks what it would take to make it work.
A critic can identify ten things wrong with our community.
A champion identifies those same ten things and starts working on number one.
We need more of that.
Champions Go First
Community progress rarely begins with everybody agreeing.
Usually somebody has to go first.
Someone opens the business.
Someone renovates the building.
Someone creates the event.
Someone volunteers.
Someone invests money when success isn’t guaranteed.
Someone proposes an idea that initially sounds a little unrealistic.
Someone stands up and says, “Why couldn’t we do that here?”
Then something interesting happens.
If it works, other people start believing.
One renovated building encourages another property owner to invest.
One successful restaurant gives another entrepreneur confidence.
One good event leads to another.
One person cleaning up a property makes the property beside it look a little more neglected.
One person’s investment makes another person’s investment seem less risky.
That’s how momentum starts.
Unfortunately, the opposite is true too.
Neglect creates more neglect.
Vacancy creates more vacancy.
And pessimism can become contagious.
When everyone waits for somebody else to make the first move, nothing moves.
Champions interrupt that cycle.
They go first.
Leadership Has to Mean Something
There is another kind of champion every community desperately needs: good leaders.
And I think we need to talk more about what leadership actually means.
Being elected to public office makes someone an elected official.
It does not automatically make someone a leader.
Leadership is something you demonstrate.
A true leader understands that accepting a position of public trust means accepting a higher standard of conduct along with it.
That standard shouldn’t apply only while sitting behind a microphone at a public meeting.
It shouldn’t disappear when the meeting adjourns.
It shouldn’t depend on whether cameras are rolling.
Leadership is how you behave when you’re frustrated.
It’s how you respond when someone criticizes you.
It’s how you treat people who disagree with you.
It’s knowing when to speak and when not to.
It’s controlling your emotions when doing so is difficult.
It’s accepting responsibility when you make a mistake.
It’s remembering that your behavior reflects not only on yourself, but on the office you’ve been entrusted to hold and the community you’ve been chosen to represent.
Our young people are watching.
Our business community is watching.
Potential investors are watching.
Visitors are watching.
And, most importantly, the people who trusted someone with their vote are watching.
We should expect more from our leaders, not less.
That isn’t partisan.
It isn’t personal.
It’s the responsibility that comes with leadership.
If we want residents to treat one another with respect, our leaders should model respect.
If we want disagreements in our community to remain civil, our leaders should demonstrate civility.
If we want people to take responsibility for their actions, our leaders should be the first to take responsibility for theirs.
If we want people to have pride in this community, those representing it should conduct themselves in a way the community can be proud of.
You cannot demand a standard from the community that you’re unwilling to demonstrate yourself.
Leadership has to start at the top.
We Don’t Have to Agree
One thing I’ve learned is that people can genuinely care about the same community and have completely different ideas about what’s best for it.
That’s okay.
In fact, it’s healthy.
I don’t want to live in a community where everyone thinks exactly like I do.
Some of our best ideas can come from disagreement.
But disagreement doesn’t require disrespect.
We can debate development.
We can disagree about taxes.
We can argue over budgets.
We can have completely different visions for downtown, tourism, schools, growth, or government.
And then we can shake hands afterward.
That’s what healthy communities do.
When disagreement becomes personal hostility, everybody loses.
The objective shouldn’t be defeating the person across the room.
The objective should be making Front Royal and Warren County better.
Sometimes that means realizing the person across the room may have an idea worth hearing.
Champions Support Other Champions
There’s another characteristic I’ve noticed about people who build things.
They tend to recognize other people who are trying to build things.
Starting something is hard.
Opening a business is hard.
Restoring a building is hard.
Organizing an event is hard.
Running a nonprofit is hard.
Serving the community is hard.
Putting an idea in front of the public and saying “I think we should try this” is hard.
There will always be someone willing to explain why it won’t work.
What we need more of are people willing to ask:
“How can I help?”
Helping doesn’t always mean writing a check.
Sometimes it’s attending an event.
Sharing someone’s announcement.
Shopping at a new business.
Volunteering for two hours.
Making an introduction.
Recommending a local restaurant.
Welcoming a visitor.
Picking up a piece of trash.
Or simply telling someone who’s trying to do something positive, “Keep going.”
Those things seem insignificant.
Multiply them across thousands of residents, and they’re anything but insignificant.
They become culture.
We Need Permission to Dream Again
Sometimes communities become so accustomed to discussing their problems that imagining something better begins to sound unrealistic.
I think that’s dangerous.
Everything worthwhile in a community started with something that didn’t exist yet.
Someone had to imagine it first.
So what could Front Royal and Warren County become?
What if more of our storefronts were full?
What if more visitors stayed overnight instead of passing through?
What if more young people saw an opportunity to build their futures here?
What if entrepreneurs looked at our community and saw opportunity?
What if we became known throughout the region for a thriving downtown, incredible outdoor recreation, small businesses, agriculture, history, arts, and the entrance to one of America’s great national parks?
What if we spent as much energy talking about what we could become as we spend talking about everything that’s wrong?
Those aren’t unrealistic questions.
They’re how progress begins.
Maybe You’re the Champion
Front Royal and Warren County don’t need everyone to agree.
We don’t need everyone to share the same politics.
We don’t need everyone to have the same vision for the future.
But we do need people willing to believe there is a future worth building.
We need people willing to open the business, restore the building, organize the event, volunteer for the cause, invest the money, share the good news, welcome the visitor, encourage the entrepreneur, serve with integrity, and occasionally stand up and say:
“I think we can do better.”
And when we choose people to lead us, we should expect them to embody those same qualities.
Integrity.
Self-control.
Respect.
Responsibility.
Service.
Leadership by example.
Those shouldn’t be extraordinary expectations.
They should be the minimum requirements of leadership.
Every community needs champions.
Ours does too.
And maybe the question isn’t where we’re going to find them.
Maybe the question is whether each of us—including those we entrust to lead us—is willing to become one.








