Tag: personal-growth
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The Discipline of Presence
I said this to a group of colleagues the other day. We were talking about the apparent apathy we see in students—and in many adults. “Failing to show up is giving the world your consent to move on without you.” Their response was thoughtful. They said the line had weight—but maybe it was too harsh.…
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Mirror, Mirror on My Desk…
We spend a lot of time looking outward. At expectations. At what other people are doing, saying, or thinking. We compare, we react, we adjust. Most of our day is shaped by everything happening around us. But we rarely stop and look inward. There aren’t many moments in the day where it’s just you and…
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Life Is A Notebook
I came across this idea the other day, and it stayed with me longer than I expected— the kind of thought that doesn’t just pass through, but settles in. Maybe it’s the way we hold onto moments—like scraps of paper, like old notebooks tucked away in drawers. Every now and then, something reminds you that…
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Mariachi Me… Same Traje, Different Mileage
Being a Mariachi isn’t just about the music. It’s about what you carry before you ever play a note. The traje—sharp, tailored, unmistakable—has a way of teaching you that. At first, it feels like a costume. Something you put on to look the part. The shine, the stitching, the silver botonadura, the way it commands…
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Out of the Dark to Find Me Again
So last night, I had a realization. Not one of those cinematic, lightning-strikes-the-soul kind of realizations. No dramatic music, no sudden gasp into the void. More like… sitting there, minding my business, and boom—my brain quietly taps me on the shoulder like, “Hey… you good?” And apparently, I wasn’t. Or at least, my writing wasn’t.…
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Like Therapy – No Appointment Required
Life is a journey—and what a messy, beautiful one it is. There are peaks that make you feel invincible, and valleys that make you question if you packed the right shoes. Triumphs feel like fireworks; failures feel like stepping on Legos in the dark. Each stumble, each victory, leaves a little mark, whether we notice…
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Eight Days and Counting: The Monkeys Found the Wi-Fi Password
Is there such a thing as over-writing? We’ve all heard the term overeating. Some of us have lived it. No point in lying about it. Just accept it and move on. There’s over-drinking. Over-exercising. Overworking. Over-seasoning (no one asked for that much paprika, sir). Over-texting — because three question marks in a row is not…
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Out of Office… Somehow Still Here
This past weekend, a group of us got caught up in one of those group texts that starts light — a string of funny memes, a few inside jokes — the kind that makes you laugh out loud in the middle of Saturday morning. But somehow, almost inevitably, work wormed its way into the conversation.…
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A Conversation With Myself About Authenticity… Ain’t That the Realest Thing?
Over the years, I’ve sat through more workshops than I can count where the message was simple and bold: Be authentic. Be real. Be yourself. It’s the kind of advice that sounds obvious until you actually sit with it. Recently — on a random Wednesday morning fueled by coffee and overactive brain monkeys — I…
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The Noise of Learning
I used to think learning was supposed to be quiet.Neat. Orderly. Predictable. But in my world, it never sounded that way. It sounded like pencil scratches in the margins of a notebook, screws rattling on a garage floor, the click of a camera shutter, the uneven notes of a song I hadn’t yet learned how…
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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…
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Being me…
The hardest thing about being me is forgetting how hard it is to be me. I wake, I move, I mend the cracks and call it progress. I joke, I help, I give what’s left and call it love. Some days I remember the weight of it all— and some days I wear it so…
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The Paradox of Connection
You’d think, as a high school dean, I’d have a crystal-clear picture of youth culture. I mean, I see it all—hallway drama, TikTok choreography in the quad, debates over whose Crocs are cooler. I confiscate phones with the reflexes of a blackjack dealer and mediate arguments that start with, “I only liked the post—I didn’t…
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Year 26
25 years as an educator—and at least a dozen more before that coaching, mentoring, running camps, leading arts programs, and engaging in general kid-centered monkey business (some of which may have included dodgeballs, duct tape, and popsicle sticks). It’s been, quite literally, a lifetime of working with young people—changing lives, dodging glitter explosions, and watching…
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Our Shared Path, Our Individual Journey
There’s a quiet truth we all live with — one we may not often voice, but feel deeply in our moments of reflection: While we may share a path with others, our journeys are a uniquely individual experience. Life often brings us into community with others. We attend school together, grow up in the same…
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