I am a career educator.
Eleven years in the classroom. Two years as a resource teacher. Thirteen years as an administrator.
Along the way, I’ve been an athletic director, ASB advisor, journalism instructor, tech lead teacher, and advisor for technology and photography clubs. I’ve coached pretty much every sport at one point or another—and probably have the collection of whistles, clipboards, and questionable knees to prove it.
I have a bachelor’s degree in Liberal Studies and a master’s degree in Curriculum, Instruction & Assessment Design with an emphasis in technology. I even made it four courses into a doctoral program in School Culture and Student Affairs before the pandemic came along and, like it did with so many things, changed the trajectory of that journey.
All told, I’ve traveled 27 years down this road we call education. Twenty-nine if you count the two full years I spent substitute teaching before that.
And if we really want to dig into the archives and count the years coaching youth sports and running day camps through the city parks and recreation program, we’re getting dangerously close to 38 years of working with kids.
That’s a lifetime.
So, I think it is fair to say I’ve learned a thing or three about students, student behavior, discipline, schools, parents, teachers, and the wonderfully complicated ecosystem created when you put all of those things together under one roof.
And I don’t think saying that is bragging. It’s simply acknowledging the miles on the odometer. More recently, though, some of my attention has shifted toward something else.
Writing.
I’m hesitant sometimes to call myself a writer. I still think of myself primarily as a storyteller. But apparently storytellers write things down, people read those things, and eventually you run out of excuses and have to admit that maybe you’re a writer after all.
Most of what I write is fiction. Every now and then, however, the brain monkeys grab the keyboard and an opinion piece escapes.
And, yes, sometimes that opinion involves education.
My most recent piece happened to touch on school discipline, student behavior, and some things I thought parents needed to hear.
I didn’t write it as an administrator speaking on behalf of a school or district. That wasn’t the intention at all. It was simply my perspective. One educator. One writer. One guy who has spent a very long time working with kids and has accumulated a few thoughts along the way.
So I typed it. Posted it to my blogs. Shared it on Facebook. Wished it well, and went about my merry way.
Then one of our school district trustees found it. She read it and left a comment thanking me for sharing it and calling it a “good read.”
Well, that was pretty cool. I was pleased that something I had written resonated with her, and I figured that was the end of the story.
Apparently, it wasn’t.
This evening, my principal sent a message to our administrative group chat telling the group I had received a shout-out during the school board meeting.
Wait.
What?
So naturally, I found the livestream, started backtracking through the video, and eventually found it. And there it was. For roughly 90 seconds, one of our trustees talked about my article.
Not just a passing mention.
She talked about its message. She talked about the importance of what it was saying. And then, unexpectedly, she said some very kind things about me—not only as an administrator, but as a writer.
Wow!
I won’t pretend that didn’t feel good.
It did.
I was proud.
But more than that, I was excited because something I wrote had resonated.
And maybe the timing matters.
Parents in our community have understandably expressed concerns about recent incidents involving students—not only at my school, but at other schools throughout our community, neighboring cities, and across our valley.
Those conversations can become difficult very quickly.
Schools blame parents. Parents blame schools. Social media blames everybody. And somewhere in the middle of all that noise are the people we are supposedly talking about in the first place:
Our kids.
That is why I hope the attention given to that article becomes something more than a nice compliment at a school board meeting. I hope it becomes the beginning of a conversation. Because parents aren’t simply the caretakers of our “clients”—our students.
They are our educational partners. Or at least they should be.
Schools cannot do this alone.
Parents cannot do it alone.
Teachers cannot do it alone.
Administrators certainly cannot do it alone.
Raising, teaching, guiding, correcting, encouraging, and occasionally redirecting young people who seem absolutely determined to test every boundary humanity has established since the beginning of recorded history requires all of us.
Working together.
That doesn’t mean we will always agree. In fact, I can pretty much guarantee we won’t.
But partnership doesn’t require agreement on everything. It requires communication, trust, honesty, accountability, and the willingness to recognize that we are standing on the same side of the table.
Because there shouldn’t be a school side and a parent side.
There should be a kid side.
After all these years in education, maybe that is one of the most important things I’ve learned.
And if something I wrote helps even a few people see our schools—or their role in them—from a slightly different perspective, then those brain monkeys pounding away at the keyboard accomplished something worthwhile.
Maybe somebody was listening.
Turns out, somebody was.
There’s more waiting at https://xinkblotz.com.
Telling stories, sharing thoughts, and drinking coffee. A blend of fiction, reflection, and whatever’s brewing—one post at a time.
Stories have always traveled best by word of mouth. If one of these finds a place in your heart, I’d be honored if you’d drop a like or share it with someone else.
© 2026 Mariano Velez ~ InkBlotz Press
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