Category: Uncategorized

  • Several Hundred Words Later

    We’ve all been there. Not as heroes, not as villains—just as silent witnesses to someone else’s emotional eruption. That strange moment when you realize you’re no longer part of a conversation, but the audience to a performance you never bought tickets for. You don’t interrupt.You don’t argue. You simply stand there, nodding politely, mentally taking…

  • Alone, But With Company

    You can be in a room full of people and feel like the only inhabitant of a private planet. Not lonely—oh no, that would require longing—but singular, spectacularly self-contained. Sometimes I wonder: is my body here, and my mind elsewhere? Or my mind here, and my body wandering off somewhere? I can’t remember; I always…

  • The Algorithm on Main Street

    The Algorithm on Main Street

    In Calexico, stories used to travel slowly. They moved on bicycles and sneakers, through chain-link fences and across dusty backyards. They passed through kitchens where tortillas puffed on comales and radios argued with each other in English and Spanish. By the time a story reached Main Street, it had already changed shape—edited by laughter, softened…

  • On Being 55

    Ah, 55. A milestone just for being a milestone.Double nickels. What used to be the speed limit on most major freeways—which tells you exactly how long it’s been since anyone cared what the speed limit was. Fifty-five is the age where the world quietly, officially reclassifies you. You’re now a senior citizen—not because you feel…

  • Crackers With My Coffee

    I don’t drink coffee.I enter into a legally binding relationship with it. Coffee is not a beverage.It’s a survival tool.A personality stabilizer.A public safety measure. Without it, I am slow.I forget words.I stare into space like a Windows 95 screensaver. With it?I can solve problems.Remember passwords.Pretend I like mornings. And the crackers?Those are not a…

  • That Guy In The Mirror.

    The inner voice.The alter ego. Sometimes the lone voice of reason.Often the reason we do stupid shit. He’s the first person you ever open up to—long before you open up to anyone else.The rehearsal audience.The test kitchen. You admit things to him you haven’t even learned how to say out loud yet.You bounce ideas off…

  • Listening and Observing (I Promise This Matters)

    Listening and observing—similar, but not the same. I don’t know why this has been living rent-free in my head, but it’s been there long enough that I should probably offer it coffee.  Which I have. Repeatedly. Ironically, this mental detour has forced me to listen to myself and observe the outcomes. So far, the results…

  • Standards, Grades, and Other Things We Pretend We All Agree On

    I sat through an administrator’s “clinic” the other day—one of those gatherings where the coffee is strong, the chairs are unforgiving, and the words learning standards are spoken with near-religious reverence. The agenda was precise. The slides were aligned. Everything, apparently, was measurable. My mind, however, was not. This is usually the part where one…

  • Coffee First. Then People.

    Coffee first. Then people. This isn’t a lifestyle choice. It’s a safety protocol.  Somewhere between waking up, getting ready for work, unlocking the classroom door, and logging into email, caffeine must be introduced into the system. Without it, words come out wrong, patience becomes theoretical, and facial expressions betray thoughts better left unspoken. Teachers aren’t…

  • Not quite famous. And still mostly unknown.

    So yeah—I wrote a book. If you’ve been following me, you’ve heard this a few times already; this’ll be one more. (Don’t blame me. That guy in the mirror made me do it.) The book went live a little over two months ago. And yes, it’s sold a bunch of copies. Not bestseller-list, airport-bookstore, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it…

  • Caffeinated, Distracted, and Somehow Not Famous

    I was pondering the life of an influencer over the holiday break—because why think about taxes, family, or existential dread when you can overanalyze people yelling at a tiny lens? And it hit me: these people, these camera-talking wizards, have an insane cocktail of confidence, courage, and apparently a complete disregard for the crushing humiliation…

  • I’m in No Hurry

    The day has come.We all knew it was coming.Nothing we could do to stop it. It was… inevitable. No amount of coffee was going to make a difference. Returning to work after a long break is a lot like waking up in a foreign country where you technically speak the language, but everything feels aggressive…

  • Not Typical, But It Works

    I was asked recently about my experience writing a book. It was one of those casual questions that slowly opens a door you didn’t expect. As the conversation unfolded, it inevitably turned to students—specifically, what it takes to get kids to write. That question lingered with me longer than I expected, probably because it pulled…

  • Shelved Dreams

    Shelved Dreams

    Writing a book was a long-held dream of mine—one I carried quietly for years. Not the kind of dream I announced out loud or chased with urgency, but one that lived in the background, tucked away between lesson plans, staff meetings, and stacks of papers waiting to be graded. It was always there, patient and…

  • Experimental Build: Human Edition

    A self-reflective observation made under the supervision of that Guy in the Mirror. There are days when the world goes sideways—days when it feels like the gods themselves are pacing around upstairs, knocking over furniture, arguing about whose turn it is to touch the big red button. Days when everything teeters on the edge of…