By Stacy Davis, Sumner Economic Development Commission — Welcome back to Front Porch Tuesday, where I share my thoughts, experiences, and observations on rural economic development and the things that help our communities grow.

This week, I found myself reflecting on something I read on Facebook.

A friend shared how saddened she was by all the negativity she was seeing about her hometown. Rather than adding to it, she simply asked people to do something different. She started a thread inviting everyone to share something positive about their community.

At first, I thought it was just a refreshing change of pace. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized she had unintentionally highlighted one of the most overlooked aspects of economic development.

Our narrative.

Every community has one. It’s the story we tell ourselves, the story we tell our neighbors, and the story we tell the rest of the world.

Sometimes it’s spoken at the coffee shop. Sometimes it’s shared at a ballgame. Sometimes it’s posted online. And sometimes, unfortunately, it’s filled with comments like:

“Nothing ever happens here.”

“This town is dying.”

“Why would anyone want to move here?”

The problem is that the stories we tell become the stories others believe.

As economic developers, we spend countless hours working to attract businesses, support entrepreneurs, pursue grants, improve infrastructure, develop housing, and strengthen our workforce. But before a company invests millions of dollars, before a family decides to relocate, or before an entrepreneur opens a business, they research something that can’t be found in a demographic report.

They try to understand the community itself. They read comments. They visit social media pages. They talk to local residents. They look for signs of pride, collaboration, and optimism. They’re asking questions like:

“Do people actually like living there?”

“Do the leaders work together?”

“Does this community believe in its own future?”

Those answers often carry just as much weight as available land, tax incentives, or utility rates.

I’ve often said that economic development is really community development. Businesses don’t simply choose buildings. People don’t simply choose jobs. They choose communities where they can build a life. And that decision is heavily influenced by the story we tell.

Now, let’s be honest.  Every community has challenges. We have workforce shortages. Housing needs. Infrastructure improvements. Downtown vacancies. Budget constraints.

Acknowledging those challenges isn’t negative; it’s responsible leadership. But allowing those challenges to become the only story we tell about ourselves can be incredibly damaging.

The most successful communities I’ve worked with aren’t successful because they don’t have problems. They’re successful because they refuse to let those problems define who they are. They celebrate wins, both big and small. They recognize volunteers. They applaud new businesses. They encourage young entrepreneurs. They support their schools. They promote local events. They welcome newcomers. And they believe tomorrow can be better than today. That optimism is contagious.

Imagine you’re a family considering a move to a rural community. Would you rather hear,

“You’ll never make it here.” Or… “We’re glad you’re here. Let us show you what makes this place special.”

The answer is obvious. Yet every single day, communities unknowingly either recruit or repel opportunity through the words they choose.

Economic development isn’t just about industrial parks, incentives, or recruitment. It’s about creating confidence. It’s about building trust. It’s about generating momentum. And momentum begins when people believe in the place, they call home.

That doesn’t mean we ignore problems. Healthy communities ask hard questions. They challenge ideas. They solve difficult issues. But they do it from a place of hope instead of hopelessness.

Because hope inspires action. Negativity breeds complacency.

My friend’s Facebook post reminded me that sometimes all it takes is one person asking people to focus on what’s good.

The responses poured in, stories about great neighbors, hometown traditions, local businesses, caring teachers, beautiful parks, volunteers, first responders, churches, youth programs, and simple acts of kindness. None of those comments solved every problem. But together, they reminded people why their community was worth believing in.

And maybe that’s where economic development truly begins. Not with a grant. Not with a new factory. Not with a ribbon cutting. But with residents who choose to believe in their hometown and aren’t afraid to tell others why.

Until next Tuesday, remember that every one of us is writing the story of our community every day. Let’s make it a story that inspires others to visit, invest, stay, and believe, because the future of our hometown begins with the narrative we choose to share.