Tag: reflection

  • The Flavor of Family

    Food has a way of doing what nothing else can: it gathers us, roots us, and reminds us who we are. In our family, meals were never just about eating. They were the soundtrack of our childhood, the punctuation marks on our days, the reason the house smelled like love and chaos all at once.…

  • I Miss My Mom

    It’s been almost a year since she left us, and some days it still feels like the world paused in that moment. I remember the quiet that filled the house afterward, a silence so deep it pressed against my chest. And yet, in that silence, her presence whispers back to me—in the smallest things, the…

  • But I Just Wanna Play Catch

    There was a time when the only thing that mattered was whether you could catch the ball. The sun burned hot on your back, the grass smelled like summer and sweat, and the popsicle you dropped three minutes ago was already a sticky puddle in the dirt. Your knees were scraped, your socks were wet,…

  • The Glorious Absurdity of the First Day

    Ahhhh… the first day of school. The crown jewel of the academic year. And this time, it comes after professional learning. Two glorious, soul-crushing days where you learned… well, you’re still not entirely sure what you learned. Icebreakers, slide decks, team-building exercises so awkward you briefly considered faking your own death. Somehow, someone convinced you…

  • The Day Camp Diaries

    When you hear “summer camp,” you might picture kids whisked away in vans, lugging haphazardly packed duffel bags, shipped off to some far-flung campground for a summer of “character building” and kumbaya bonding. Well… yeah—if you’ve watched enough movies, that’s exactly what you’ve seen. The reality? Not all camps are like that. Some are closer…

  • Mischief Monkeys

    Every kid, no matter the generation, knows mischief. It’s written deep in our DNA—the most primal way we learn as humans. It’s how we explore, how we test boundaries. It’s life itself—the spark that makes each day worth living, memories in the making. Mischief isn’t just the big moments; it’s the stuff in between the…

  • Nostalgia on a Stick

    Growing up, summer in Calexico had its own soundtrack—somewhere a screen door slammed, a dog barked three streets over, and a radio played Ramón Ayala so faintly you couldn’t tell if it was next door or two blocks over. The air already smelled like heat—dust, sun-baked asphalt, and tortillas puffing on the comal in someone’s…

  • Morning Ritual: Still Not Funny, Dad

    Mornings during the school year were something of a production for me. I wasn’t exactly a morning curmudgeon, but I wouldn’t have called myself a ray of sunshine either.  My brain tended to boot up about ten minutes before my alarm—though, truth be told, it was never really off. At night, it just gave me…

  • Espresso Yourself: Why We’re All Just Addicted to Productivity

    An Over-Caffeinated Reflection on the Hustle Culture Buzz We live in a world brewed for speed—where every second counts and productivity is the ultimate pick-me-up. Like espresso shots in a sea of decaf days, we chase the next caffeine hit, the next deadline, the next achievement, juggling a dozen digital tabs and an endless to-do…

  • Storytelling with a Camera

    Photography is weird. You’ve got the people who treat their cameras like they’re nuclear launch codes—checking every dial, obsessing over ISO like it’s some secret recipe. Then there are those who swear the perfect golden hour is the only time worth shooting. And don’t get me started on the endless debates about gear — “Full…

  • The Exploits of an Over-Active Neurodivergent Mind

    The Exploits of an Over-Active Neurodivergent Mind

    I’m good at a lot of things.I’ve always been good at things.(Not bragging… just being honest.) Drawing. Painting. Sketching.Music. Hands-on tinkering (mainly taking things apart just to know). Cooking. Eating.And—surprise twist in the third act—writing. (Who knew overthinking could finally earn its moment?) Good at many things, yes. But a master of none. Unless you…

  • “What’s in a Name?” A Late Show Monologue for the Mispronounced, the Well-Meaning, and the Forever Traviesos

    You ever notice how the first day of school feels like the opening scene of a courtroom drama? The teacher walks in with the roster, everyone’s watching, and the tension is thick. And it’s all fun and games until they pause. Squint. Tilt their head. Take a long sip of coffee like it’ll give them…

  • “Just Coffee” A Mini Monologue for the Over-Caffeinated, Slightly-Overwhelmed Middle-Aged Soul

    So I walk into Starbucks.Already, mistake number one.It’s not a coffee shop. It’s a lifestyle temple.There’s music playing that sounds like a cat whispering into a synthesizer.Everyone smells faintly of ambition and vanilla. The girl behind the counter—probably 19, speaks with the confidence of a TED Talker—She gives me that smile. You know the one.Like…

  • 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…

  • An Educator’s Love Letter to Liquid Sanity

    Let’s get one thing straight: coffee isn’t a luxury for teachers. It’s a survival mechanism. A coping strategy. A legal form of self-medication brewed in Keurig pods and staff lounge folklore. Coffee is what separates us from the animals.Also from the students.And occasionally from making deeply inappropriate remarks during professional development. To the untrained eye,…