The kid who couldn't afford college

I'd just finished a pretty emotional few minutes on a stage, and as I turned to walk down the stairs, I saw him out of the corner of my eye.

Sean Astin had stood up from his table — unannounced — and was walking toward the stage.

If you don't know the name, you know the characters. Samwise Gamgee in Lord of the Rings. Mikey in The Goonies. Rudy. The ultimate underdog roles. The guys who weren't supposed to be there but showed up anyway and changed everything.

He met me at the bottom of the stairs with a big smile on his face, wrapped me in a hug, and said, "You're great, man. That was awesome."

I'm going to be honest — I almost lost it right there.

Let me back up.

This past weekend, I was awarded the Rochester Christian University Alumnus of the Year. Which still feels surreal to say.

I started at that school in 1998. But before that, I'd spent a year and a half fumbling through community college and a local university, mostly just trying to figure out who I was and what I was doing with my life. I didn't grow up going to church. I didn't know much about faith. I didn't come from money.

But something was shifting in me. I'd started believing in something bigger than just me and my plans. I started to feel like God had a vision for my life that was a lot bigger than the one I'd been carrying around.

And then people started making a way.

Coach Garth Pleasant told me about the school and introduced me to his boss — President Johnson. President Johnson heard my story and believed in me before I believed in myself. He had a vision for the college and thought I'd be a fit. And he made a way for this punk kid who had no business attending a private university to get a full scholarship.

I still think about that. The donors who funded that scholarship didn't know me. The president of a college took an interest in some kid he'd barely met. And that decision changed the entire trajectory of my life.

What I'm most grateful for is that the people at that school didn't just talk about faith and community — they showed me what it looked like.

I felt seen. I felt loved by professors and staff who treated me like I mattered. I built friendships that are still some of the strongest in my life — people we moved to our small town to be near so we could live in proximity the way we did in college, down the hall from each other, sharing meals almost every day.

We don't get to do that exactly the same way now. But we get together often, we vacation together, and we take seriously the kind of community we experienced in those years. That wasn't an accident. That was the fruit of people who committed their lives to a mission and invested in someone they barely knew.

Their belief changed everything for me.

So when I got three minutes on that stage to accept the award, I didn't talk about my accomplishments. I talked about theirs.

I looked out at the faculty and staff and told them: your work matters. You're changing lives. I'm proof of that.

(My team at Tell Studios actually produced a video that played earlier that evening — it tells a bit more of my story and the university's vision. If you want to hear it in my own words: [video link])

I told them my hope is to keep paying it forward. To help other underdogs find their way the same way they found me.

And then Sean Astin — Rudy, Samwise, Mikey — stood up and hugged me.

I mean, come on. You can't write that.

Later that evening, Sean shared his own story of faith — processing it out loud, honestly, the way you do when you're still in the middle of figuring it out. It was beautiful. The whole night was.

But here's what I keep coming back to, days later.

Somebody made a way for me. Not because I earned it. Not because I deserved it. Because they believed in something bigger than what was right in front of them and decided to invest in a kid who didn't have a way to get there on his own.

That's what I'm trying to do now. With the people I coach, the entrepreneurs I work with, the stories I help people tell. I want to be the person who sees someone's potential before they see it themselves — and makes a way.

Because that's what was done for me. And I'm still living off the compound interest of that generosity.

Speaking of making a way —

I've been building something I'm really excited about. It's a 90-day experience for entrepreneurs and founders who know they need to be more visible but don't know where to start — or they've been putting it off because they're not confident on camera, don't have a system, or just haven't had anyone in their corner to push them.

It's small. It's hands-on. And it includes something I've never offered before — a day at my studio where I put you on camera myself, the way I've done for twenty years as a documentary filmmaker.

I'm still finalizing the details, but if that sounds like something you'd want to know more about, get on the waitlist and I'll make sure you're the first to hear when it's ready: ryankoral.com/sprint

To paying it forward,

Ryan

P.S. Goonies never say die. And neither do underdogs.

P.P.S. If that 90-day experience sounds like your kind of thing — don't forget to grab a spot on the waitlist so you hear about it first: ryankoral.com/sprint