Tag: coffee

  • Got a Minute?

    Conversations can be a source of great entertainment.And sometimes great discomfort. I’ve had the dubious distinction of experiencing both — sometimes in the same day, often back to back, and once — memorably — in the very same conversation. That part still fascinates me. How can something begin as amusement, drift into awkwardness, and somehow…

  • Like Molding Clay, But With Words Instead

    When I first started my blog, I had a very clear vision for it. It was going to be my place to offer observations, rapid reactions to issues in education, and—if I’m being honest—to become one of those people other educators sought out for advice, knowledge, and expertise. I tried. I really did. But it…

  • Too Deep for a Tuesday

    I am not a philosophical person—though I do seem to spend a fair amount of time thinking on a philosophical level, which feels like a technicality philosophers would absolutely argue about. To me, philosophy is food for reflection. It’s universal. Every culture has its own way of wrestling with the same big questions about choice,…

  • On Writing, Remembering, and Talking Too Long

    There’s a particular kind of conversation that only seems to happen after you’ve written a book. Not during interviews. Not in those polite, well-lit moments where someone asks, “So what’s it about?” and you give the version you’ve rehearsed in the mirror. I’m talking about the real conversations—the ones that happen over sips of coffee…

  • A Writers’ Room with No Showrunner and Infinite Coffee

    I sometimes wonder if our dreams are just a carbon-based, innate AI running a late-night Netflix marathon in our skulls. Think about it: all day long, your brain collects data—faces, fears, half-heard conversations, that embarrassing thing you did in seventh grade—and then, at night, it’s like, “Great. Let’s remix all this into a cinematic experience.”…

  • So I like Coffee and Quiet Moments! What are ya gonna do!?

    Quiet mornings are sacred. That’s where thoughts line up, memories wander in, and the day hasn’t started asking for things yet. It’s the opposite of chaos. And I’ve always had a soft spot for those in-between moments—the ones that feel a little like the 1980s, before the radio clicked on and the house officially woke…

  • The Art of School Discipline

    (Or: Why Your Kid Probably Isn’t a Villain, But Also Isn’t Perfect Either) There’s a part of me that’s always been a storyteller. I’ve spent years watching the chaos of childhood—my own and others’—and turning it into little stories that make sense of the messy, funny, absurd moments of growing up. I like noticing the…

  • 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…

  • Before the Day Notices Me

    I’ve written about the morning quiet a few times, and usually that quiet is accompanied by coffee. And so here I am, writing about that morning quiet while enjoying said quiet…and coffee. There’s a particular kind of peace that comes from alone time and coffee just for coffee’s sake. Not a meeting. Not a reward.…

  • 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…

  • 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…

  • Me, My Thoughts, and That Morning Cup of Joe

    As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to appreciate the morning quite a whole lot more. Not the dramatic, cinematic kind—the kind you see in a travel magazine with the sunlight spilling over mountains—but the ordinary, quiet of a house that hasn’t fully woken up yet. The kind of quiet where the world hasn’t started asking…

  • The Hierarchy of Everyday Life (According to an Overcaffeinated Educator)

    Or: A Day in the Life of Someone Who Wakes Up Already Tired Let’s be honest: adulthood is basically a group project where nobody knows what’s going on, and the teacher—ironically—is you. And before any of that noble, inspiring educator stuff starts, there’s coffee. Always coffee. The alarm rings. You open one eye. The world…

  • Waking Up, (or Almost Sleeping)

    Ahhh, sweet slumber. The kind where your body finally stops twitching from yesterday’s chores and the blanket has molded perfectly to your shape. I’m out cold, dreaming of nothing, floating in pure bliss. Then it begins. A faint sound. Far away. Growing louder. Louder. Until it crashes into my skull like a marching band on…