FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS: AN EXPLANATION OF COMMUNITY THROUGH THE LENS OF HIGH SCHOOL FOOTBALL

BY MADDOX DARNELL

Daughter of Coach bobby Darnell - Athletic Coord./Head Football Coach at FB Clements HS

Sophomore at University of Texas - Austin in the Moody Honor Program

When I was born, I repped orange and navy. Throughout elementary school, my wardrobe was flooded with purple and white. From 6th grade on, I bled Columbia blue and navy. These weren’t my favorite colors. Instead, they were the colors of each school my dad has coached at. All my life I have been surrounded by the world of high school football, and more specifically, the world of a coach’s family. Through football, people are united. With the shared experience of sitting under the bright stadium lights, surrounded by the smell of hot dogs and popcorn, taking in the sounds of fight songs and an abundance of cheering, how could you not be? Naturally, it was through this sport that I learned the practices that create and sustain a community. High school football taught me about this nuanced idea and showed me the power of chosen communities and the ones found right in your family. Community is rallying around a common interest. It is continually investing in the development of the group culture and being open to all members. It is offering parts of yourself for the betterment and support of others. Community is loving each other; proving your love through action each time you show up for them.

My dad’s job as a football coach at Ridge Point High School was one of my first clear introductions to a chosen community and coaches parties were the foundation of such. Here, families come together, week after week, post-game to celebrate or commiserate over food and conversation, united over their father’s/ husband’s coaching career. The wives and husbands drank their adult beverages, chatting about whatever it was adults talk about. Meanwhile, the kids ran around as spies protecting the house or as pro athletes making spectacular plays. There was complete chaos but it was in this space that I felt an abundance of community for the first 17 years of my life. I learned about the lives of nurses, teachers, principals, kids five years older than me and kids five years younger than me. I heard the constant line – “They’re growing up so fast” – from the many moms surrounding us. Everything about it felt safe and comfortable. I knew everyone was choosing to get together out of a desire to build a strong community, and that is exactly what happened. The other coaches' children became my extended siblings, the wives found support from each other during the football season where their husbands spent late nights and long weekends pursuing their passion, and the coaches shared a desire to win. Together, we all had a love for the game of football. These parties helped me formulate an idea of community that was unrelated to identity, family, or cultural background. It was where I learned that communities could be formed over something as simple as a job. A shared experience or common interest has the potential to unite individuals across the spectrum of life. The continual investment of time into a group establishes a community culture that will boost and support its members.

During these five years at RPHS, my brothers and I were constantly around the coaching scene. Every summer we spent our days at the field house as our dad coached the summer fitness program for the school. Despite being too young to participate in the workouts and bond over the group torture, we managed to find a community. Throughout each day, we would play hide and seek with other coaches’ kids, face off on computer games with football players who could snap us in half, and toss jokes at coaches. As a kid, I never felt left out in this space, creating friendships in spite of age gaps. These high schoolers felt like friends just as much as my fellow eight year olds. The coaches weren’t intimidating adults, they were role models I could look up to. Although community can be tied to specific attributes like age, there is something special in finding ones that push past this boundary.

The actions of these teenagers and coaches had a direct impact on how I would interact with others later in life - never dismissing younger kids as people I couldn’t connect with or establish a community with. As I became the elder of the coaches’ children, I mirrored these lessons at parties, including kids in various games and engaging in conversations about their unique world. Later, when I was an upperclassman and became the leader of a spirit organization, I was highly encouraged by the younger members. They were going to be the future of the club, so I did what I could to pass down any knowledge or traditions. Beyond the confines of the organization members, I further included the kids who came to the football games in our operations - running the flags after touchdowns or setting up the tunnel. Establishing these cross demographic relationships ensures that communities can thrive through the elements of change such as when people leave and new ones arrive. Communities aren’t always meant to be homogenous. I have found that the best ones in my life consist of a range of ages. Through keeping an open mind and respecting everyone’s individuality and stage of life, a group can turn into a community where all can thrive.

In some cases, communities have the power of becoming family. Community and family are closely related, but there are some distinctions worthy of being discussed. Particularly, some communities come and go and are dependent on proximity and time, ending with members going their separate ways. I was friends with my dad’s players until they graduated and I was friends with the other coaches’ kids until our fathers moved on to different schools. This Ridge Point community had a beginning and end; it was such a big part of my life at the time, but I wouldn’t still consider myself a part of that group. We’ve all grown up, leaving all of the moments in our memories. This is where I feel family is different: family exists beyond time and proximity. Family is the most treasured form of community for me. It is a relationship that persists as its members go through different stages of life and evolve into new identities. When these relationships continue beyond what brought them together, a family is formed. My dad’s time as a coach brought two new people into our RPHS community, but more importantly into our family. Kaiser and Tori - my “adopted siblings” as I like to call them.

Kaiser was a football player for my father. He was a teenager while my brothers and I were in elementary school, but every summer, you would find us playing computer games, making fun of each other, and making up silly games to be played in a small media room within the high school’s field house. After learning about his home life, we made trips to drop off snacks to him and his siblings and my parents welcomed him over for dinner and generally provided a safe space for him. My parents showed us how to use our resources to help others rather than keeping them for ourselves. This standard within a group of people creates deeper bonds and sustains a community. It builds a foundation of support for members and when they need help, they know their community will be there. Now, every Thanksgiving and periodically throughout the year, Kaiser visits us and I witness my extended family welcome him in as one of our own. The relationships with old players came and went, yet Kaiser remained part of my family.

Tori was an athletic trainer at Ridge Point and the principal’s daughter. We met each other during the RPHS years, again when I was in elementary school and she was starting high school. During her four years, she spent a lot of time with our family, sharing meals, babysitting us, and even living with us for a bit. I started to think of her as my older sister and I definitely nagged her like a younger sister. Again, I watched as my parents committed their love and support to someone who needed it at the time. And again, I saw how it fostered a connection that has tested time. We see Tori less, but she is still very much a part of our family. Pouring into others builds trust and a cycle of service that is passed through everyone - it makes a safe space to be vulnerable - a community.

Every week, directly aligned with the 50 yard line, you could find a pack of 20 people all passionately rooting for Ridge Point and later Clements high school. They would protest horrible penalties and dropped passes, and they would cheer at the top of their lungs for touchdowns and all-star plays. If you were a bystander, you’d think that they must be watching a player or multiple perhaps. However, this group was at every game long before my brothers and I entered high school. They were there to cheer on my dad as he coached. In watching this group of family and friends at every game, I learned the core principle of community - showing up for those you love and standing with them throughout their endeavors.

My mom exhibited this value from the time our family formed. Despite having three toddlers and a career of her own, she always found a way to go to my father’s JV basketball games, JV football games, and varsity football games. Although it was extremely difficult and tiring at times, it was never too big of a task for my mom. It is not often that one can witness their loved ones in action, doing their job, and pursuing their passion, so my mom took the opportunity. Selflessness builds up communities - the effort and sacrifices one makes to support their community members is a beautiful thing in this world. When it serves as an example for others, this attribute flows through everyone within the group, creating a common desire to show up when it counts. I continued to watch this practice through the actions of my grandparents, aunts and uncles, and cousins, neighbors, and family friends. Whether it was a long day at work or a school night for the kids, a close game or an away game, or even as our team continued to lose, these members of our community tried their best to be present at my dad’s football games. This level of engagement is crucial. It is what shows people you care about them; that you are willing to invest your time in their interests. Furthermore, feeling the weight of the highs and lows alongside the one going through them is a testament to a community’s love. While sitting on bleachers for three hours, watching teenagers hit each other isn’t always ideal, my family’s presence at these games was proof that I was in the strongest community that I will ever know.

Communities come together by various forces, but the same actions keep them together and allow them to evolve into something wonderful - a culture. A culture rooted in traditions and habits all formed for the greater community rather than the individual. Our family didn’t go to the post-game gatherings for the sake of ourselves. We went as an investment - we wanted to grow a bond that would hold us together. My extended family surely didn’t go to every game because it was convenient for them. They went as a sign of support and love. Community - a group of people displaying a persistent effort, buying into those around you and the culture. An energy that sustains growth, generosity, and solidarity.