A Conversation That Matters: Insights on Leadership, Connection, and the Heart of Safe Communities

I want to take a moment to thank my brother, Travis Forrester—National Director of Security Assessments for Armoured One—for sharing his valuable insights and perspective featured below. This conversation grew out of a meaningful after-dinner talk we had while vacationing together this past month. What began as casual reflection quickly turned into a deeper discussion about the challenges facing our children, schools, and communities—and the kind of leadership needed to guide the next generation well.

Look around for a moment. How many things in your life are designed to be replaced instead of repaired? We trade in our phones every couple of years. We order something online and have it at our doorstep the next day. We scroll through social media, double tap a few pictures, and move on without thinking twice. This disposable lifestyle has become the norm, and while it might seem harmless when we are talking about things, it becomes dangerous when it starts to shape how we treat people.

As Dr. Robert Putnam observed, “Our social capital — the networks, norms, and trust that enable collective action — is disintegrating.” The erosion of these connections has consequences that reach into every aspect of our communities, and nowhere is this more visible than in our schools.

In schools, I see the effects of this mindset every day. It is in the way some students avoid conflict instead of learning to resolve it. It is in how instant gratification from likes and shares makes perseverance harder to come by. It is in how face-to-face conversations are replaced with text messages or group chats, leaving less room for real understanding and trust. And it is in how relationships with friends, teachers, or even parents can feel temporary, easily cut off when things get hard.

Parents, too, are caught in this cycle. Many now rely on schools not just for academics, but for teaching values, building resilience, and guiding moral development. While schools can and should play a role in this, there is a danger in outsourcing too much of the work that builds deep, lasting bonds between parent and child. Kids notice when interactions at home are reduced to “Did you finish your homework?” or “Clean your room.” They notice when their parents are distracted by work, stress, or screens. Over time, some begin to feel less like individuals who are deeply valued and more like items on a to-do list.

Dr. Brené Brown reminds us, “Connection is why we are here; it is what gives purpose and meaning to our lives.” If that is true — and I believe it is — then we cannot continue to allow this trend of disconnecting to grow unchecked.

We cannot ignore this. If we want our schools to be safe, thriving places for children to learn and grow, we need to start by restoring connection, and I mean real human connection. Dr. Albert Einstein once said, “We cannot solve our problems with the same thinking we used when we created them.” This is exactly why a shift in mindset is necessary. I like to think of it as bringing back the “front porch” mentality. There was a time when neighbors sat outside, talked face to face, and built trust simply by showing up. Schools can create that same spirit within their walls. It can happen in morning circles where students have a chance to share. It can happen in mentorship programs where older students guide younger ones. It can happen in community events where families, staff, and students come together in meaningful ways.

From a security perspective, this is not just nice to have, it is essential. Disconnection breeds isolation, and isolation can sometimes lead to dangerous behavior. The most effective safety plans I have seen are not just about locked doors and security cameras. They are about relationships. When students feel seen, heard, and valued, they are far more likely to speak up when something is wrong. When there is trust between students, staff, and school resource officers, concerns are reported sooner and addressed before they escalate. In an emergency, a connected community responds with clarity and confidence because people know one another and trust one another.

A safe school is not just a secure building. It is a place where every child feels they belong. Yes, we need physical safety measures, but we cannot stop there. We must also address the root causes of disconnecting. That means being intentional about building relationships, teaching resilience, and showing students through our actions that they matter, every single one of them.

Maya Angelou said it best: “People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” That should be our guiding principle. If students walk out of school each day feeling valued, supported, and safe, we have done more than educate them. We have built a foundation for both their success and their security.

And that is the heart of it. Safer schools start with stronger connections. The sooner we realize that the sooner we can change the story for our children, our communities, and our future.

These thoughts from my brother Travis in this piece is a compelling reminder that true leadership—especially in parenting and guardianship—is rooted in connection, not control. In a culture dominated by busyness and digital distractions, it's easy for parents to slip into transactional relationships with their children, mistaking productivity for presence. But our children don't need perfect parents; they need present ones. They need leaders in their lives who listen deeply, who serve selflessly, and who model the kind of consistent, intentional relationship-building that teaches values not just through words, but through example. The "stay busy" lifestyle, while often glorified, is quietly eroding our ability to cultivate the trust and emotional security that children need to thrive. True leadership at home—and among mentors, teachers, and community members—requires slowing down, prioritizing people over performance, and rediscovering the kind of connection that builds resilient, grounded, and compassionate young people.

This same disconnection is at the heart of the burnout and high turnover rates we see among teachers and school staff. Educators are not just tasked with academic instruction—they are expected to be counselors, moral guides, and surrogate parents, often without the support of a deeply connected community. When relationships become transactional and human connection is lost, teachers feel less like valued leaders and more like expendable cogs in a system. The emotional toll of serving in a disconnected, hurried culture wears down even the most passionate educators. If we want to reverse this trend, we need to re-center our schools and homes on real human connection. Servant leadership, presence, and empathy must take precedence over performance metrics and productivity checklists. Only then will we begin to rebuild the relational fabric that supports not only safe and thriving schools but a healthier, more compassionate culture as a whole.