I grew up in a small town in Kansas, so I love meeting the fans.

Colton Haynes once reflected upon his journey with these heartfelt words: “I grew up in a small town in Kansas, so I love meeting the fans. Those are the people who spend time out of their day to watch the things that I’ve done, and I’ve gotten to do some great supernatural stuff—Teen Wolf and The Gates before that—so it’s nice when I get to go to Comic-Con every year.” In these lines lies a deep recognition of gratitude, humility, and connection. For Haynes, fame is not an ivory tower from which to look down upon others, but a bridge linking a boy from Kansas to countless hearts around the world.

The meaning of his words is rooted in remembrance of origins. He does not forget that he began in a small town, far from the lights of Hollywood, where dreams of performing seemed distant. By recalling Kansas, he grounds his present life in the soil of his past, showing that greatness is not born in cities alone but can rise from the quiet fields. To love meeting fans, then, is not an act of obligation—it is the recognition that without them, his journey from small-town dreamer to supernatural star would be incomplete. Fandom becomes family, for they sustain the storyteller as much as he entertains them.

The origin of this perspective lies in the nature of art and performance. Unlike the solitary works of a sculptor or poet, the actor’s craft blossoms only when witnessed. The fan is not a mere observer but an essential participant, the one who breathes meaning into the performance by carrying it in memory, conversation, and devotion. Haynes acknowledges this sacred exchange: they spend their time, their most precious currency, to watch him. In return, he honors them with gratitude and presence, meeting them face-to-face at gatherings like Comic-Con, where art, imagination, and community converge.

The ancients also knew the importance of honoring those who bore witness. The Greek tragedians, such as Sophocles and Euripides, performed not for themselves alone but for the citizens who gathered at the festival of Dionysus. The audience’s response was not idle; it was considered a vital measure of civic and spiritual health. Likewise, the medieval troubadours traveled from town to town, singing not for lords only but for the common people who opened their hearts to song. In all ages, the performer who remembers the people remembers the source of his power.

Consider the story of Elvis Presley, who, though raised in poverty in Mississippi, never lost touch with his roots. He often spoke of the fans as the true foundation of his career, reminding others that their loyalty was what transformed his voice from a regional sound to a global phenomenon. Like Haynes, Elvis understood that fame without connection is hollow, but fame shared with gratitude becomes legacy. Both remind us that those who listen, watch, and cheer are not bystanders—they are co-creators of the dream.

The lesson is profound: never forget where you came from, and never forget those who walk beside you on the journey. Success is not self-made, but woven from the unseen contributions of others—family, teachers, neighbors, and, for the artist, the fans. To acknowledge them is not weakness but strength, for it shows humility, the anchor of all greatness. Without humility, fame is a flame that consumes itself; with humility, it is a fire that warms others.

Practical wisdom flows from this: if you rise to prominence, in art, work, or life, always give honor to those who supported you. Meet them with kindness. Remember their names. Thank them openly. And if you are one of the “fans”—a friend, a follower, a supporter—know that your presence matters more than you realize. For your time, your attention, your encouragement are threads that weave into another’s destiny.

So, children of tomorrow, let Colton Haynes’ words echo within you: small towns can give birth to great dreams, fans are the lifeblood of art, and gratitude is the crown of success. Meet those who support you with joy, for they are not strangers but companions on your path. And when you stand upon your own stage, never forget to turn back and honor the crowd, for without them, no voice can truly be heard.