I’ve had a zinger of a day so I thought I’d start this post with a zinger of a title.  I like some literary classics and so I tried to incorporate one of my personal favorites from Robert Frost into this post.  Credits to the author:

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

 

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

We woke up this morning as a family to an old dog who was ready for us to have the courage to choose the road less traveled – I’ve blogged about Lucy before and today we went on our final road trip.

The whole experience made me think about servant leadership but not in the typical, recycled, self-promoting way.  People will generally say what they will but I think most folks know I will say what I mean.  Our chocolate lab spanned more than a decade with us and when I looked at stored pictures on my phone, she was in at least half of them easily.  She’s traveled to at least 10 different states with us and now has an Airbnb featuring her in their advertisement.  She was the consummate servant leader – she made us engage even when we didn’t want to because it was too early, or too late, or too cold, or too hot, or too rainy, or (did I mention hot) etc.

And to pivot from one of my personal favorite poems, school folks are about to journey in a way never before.  It’s clear teachers miss kids and kids miss teachers, and much of the consensus is the two are best together.  And then the disclaimer follows – provided it’s safe for all.

I’m not a doctor so I am not going to pretend to present as such.  For me personally I believe in science and I believe our top doctor has our best interests in mind when advising.  We’ve got a rocky road ahead but I believe our local school administration will do more for its teachers and staff than any other when it comes to safety.  That’s no guarantee which leads us on this road not yet traveled.  I hope all educators stay well and stay sharp and stay the course while supported by necessary safeguards.  I hope all educators can take a snippet from my Lucy story and make it their novel that all kids get to edit.

“Where did she find the strength?”  For those who missed the generation of TV shows based after the Marvel Comics character, let me try to provide a quick summary.  A male scientist was driving with his wife when they had a car accident in which the vehicle overturned.  The scientist was able to make his way out but could not lift the vehicle enough for his wife to escape before the vehicle caught flames.  From there the scientist, Dr. David Banner, became consumed with witness accounts of ordinary people exhibiting extraordinary strength when faced with extreme circumstance.  His remorseful frustration was echoed in one particular segment which started this paragraph in which a mother told the doctor how she was able to lift a vehicle by herself to save her child in a too familiar circumstance for Dr. Banner.  It tilts him just enough to engage in experimental gamma radiation treatment on himself to test his hypothesis – extreme anger or stress can trigger super-strength and if he could radiate his brain just a pinch he could replicate that state.  Predictably, the equipment was given a tune-up without his knowledge so when he zapped himself with the radiation he took way more than planned – thus the iconic punchline “don’t make me angry – you wouldn’t like me when I’m angry” was born.

And then the eerie music that always closed the episodes comes on and is still unforgettable – sort of like trying to shake the Oscar Mayer song and for you naysayers I’m going to call b-o-l-o-g-n-a.

My family and I have spent most of this past month on a farm not far from Gulf Shores on a planned vacation that was intended to be low fuss with chill expectations without the anxiety of hoping things go according to plan – we didn’t have much of one for the most part which was the point.  One particular night after a day in the sun we got into a debate about if The Incredible Hulk was part of Marvel or DC (comics); my wife and I were right and as penance we made both our boys watch the original 1977 pilot two-hour series (granted we streamed it through one of our subscription online accounts; again on a farm).  And what unfolded was a memory maker – two adults, two teens, and one old dog crowded together in comfy confines paying attention to the same thing (well the dog was kind of zonked but more on that shortly).  Our boys saw Macs when they were called Apple with Roman numerals, corded phones, and car windows where righty tighty lowers and lefty loosey raises – genius!

And like most of this year our trip was filled with surprises.  I had to send an unpopular email out to lots of good school folks yesterday asking them to modify and adjust once again and it made me reflect on these past several months way more than I normally do (and I tend to perseverate as it is).  Before we left for the farm life, our dog got sick – she’s on the mend a bit after hanging with her horse pals Duvall and Gus but this will probably be her last trip.  We got a call about a lump in the ceiling of our house which proved to be the water bladder that had formed in between our drywall and texture after our A/C continued to go bad and leak, had a flat tire along the way, a car overheat, and ice cream melt.  We dealt with more important lumps this year, we worried more often about our kids, and we saw more homes for sale in our neighborhood.

I’ve come to conclude you can over reflect, similar to if you were to over think.  When I reframe the optics, as parents my wife and I let our oldest have some (teeny tiny) freedom to drive to parts unknown this summer, we reconnected with some of the passions of my younger son and loosened the reins a bit (again teeny tiny).  We’re coming to terms with 2020 being our dog Lucy’s most memorable year.  This is a good year for our family although the face masks sometimes fog the lenses.  We spent our time in Fairhope which seems pretty symbolic in my view.

The Incredible Hulk was a fictitious comic hero – the rest of us just need to keep pushing towards incredible, and maybe extraordinary.

We’re midway through June as I come back to blog after a brief break.  Closing out this school year is hopefully one for the record books.  We finished with a graduation ceremony like no other in which families entered our stadium and received a personal, intimate recognition individually.  We did this for 3 straight days from sun up to nearly sun down to accommodate the more than 1,800 graduates.  I have sock lines as proof and it is arguably one of the coolest and memorable school events of my career.  My neighbor and friend is our assistant athletic director and he was tasked with driving the Formula None golf cart that led families into our stadium.  He was a task master but in all seriousness our coaches collectively made this event successful hands down.  I brag on teachers often for good reason but if you know a coach, send praise to that person as well.

Last week I hosted a working lunch at my house for my staff.  After about 5 minutes of observance I quickly figured out we just needed to enjoy our time together.  I had an agenda prepared and linked info included but I understood what was in the cards.  For most of the group the luncheon provided a F2F connection after nearly a 3 month absence.  Your first food for thought is coworkers (remember them always).

All expressions around the pandemic seem cliché so I’ll share something different instead.  My wife’s birthday is today and I was shopping for the next greatest wow factor gift on the travel sites.  What I found was ‘Cooking with Grandma’ or specifically Chiara and Nonna.  I invited some dear friends of ours over and on Sunday late morning our time my wife and friend learned via Zoom how to make cannelloni from a grandmother and granddaughter over 5,500 miles away.   I had my youngest set up the TV’s so me and my wife’s hubby guest who was not cooking could watch while they went through the class.  What a remarkable experience.  Timely and worldly and calming.  More food for thought.

And then I read this gem as a final food for thought – leave it to folks in the northwest to flush out such an idea.  As I understand the read, local merchants wanted to help local residents so they created a local currency – check out the article!  It’s a reminder on being a good neighbor and what that might mean.

I don’t like working from home – I like people.  I don’t speak frequently but I’m always listening (or reserving judgement as a boss once said).  Ironically I present often and speak with a presentation.  I’ve watched two school-aged kids over 50 instructional days adapt and struggle – if you’re a teacher thank you.  If you’re an administrator thanks too – I give you my Geoffrey and Alex in full confidence every day.

Around this time last year I wrote a piece on Teacher Appreciation Week – guess what 😊?!  One of the diversions I look forward to during this stay-at-home time is the weekly livestream by Verizon of various musicians.  Tonight’s edition will feature the Zac Brown Band which is beloved by millions of country music fans.  It reminded me of my days in New York and riding with my then superintendent to an event in Albany – I changed the station on the car radio and he was positively unimpressed!

As Verizon’s “Pay It Forward” has grown, other artists have also started putting on their own in-home shows for viewers.  I came across one segment by Luke Combs, a personal favorite of mine, whose song ‘Beautiful Crazy’ always makes me think of my wife:

Beautiful, crazy, she can’t help but amaze me

The way that she dances, ain’t afraid to take chances

And wears her heart on her sleeve

Yeah, she’s crazy but her crazy’s beautiful to me

She’s a teacher and of all things participated in an impromptu drive-by parade last night to bring cheer to one of her students on his birthday.  After that she swung by our local mom and pop Italian restaurant and grabbed complimentary dinner organized by her school’s parent teacher group.  And as an update after I published this blog, look what just arrived via special delivery by that same special parent group:

A few posts back one of my dear friends wrote a comment about his 3^rd grade teacher, Ms. Eastman.  He had missed school because he was sick and later that day his teacher stopped by to check in on him and bring him some soup.  Not to age my friend but how does a classroom teacher more than half a lifetime ago still summon such vivid imagery?  Because I’m sure she was like the many men and women I have come to know and root for – beautiful – crazy!

The dream begins with a teacher who believes in you, who tugs and pushes and leads you to the next plateau, sometimes poking you with a sharp stick called ‘truth.’ – Dan Rather

I’m writing more these recent days, maybe more inspiration I suppose (I hope?).  I’m fighting more these days too, maybe more coronavirus I suppose.  I’m a science guy by nature with an above average appreciation for the arts so I will just say keep being smart folks.

I want to share with you an idea that just seems so needed and timely.  A famed photographer with all the chops of any made a major pivot in honor of his own child and all of her classmates.  As I understand the read, Matt Mendelsohn is a very special someone, and he decided to take portraits of all and equally special classmates of his senior daughter on his dime.  Under normal times you would hold your breath for more than the lap of a pool to see if he would take on your special occasion.

On the off chance questions of “yeah right” puddle up, let me redirect.  As the story goes, this father aches like many, many others and had a natural atonement.  And he has a gift like none other; people generally pay him handsome sums for his artistic uniqueness.  Regardless, he put on his imposter educator/humanizer cap and did some things.  School folks are feeling it because they are real folks – one of my son’s 8^th grade teachers just this morning sent a note to the class to cry over.  She’s a warm demander and her kids aim to please and while she didn’t give them the green light to slack off she paved a mile of empty highway to her doorstep should anyone need to reach out (for anything).  And I’m not talking about the passive “call if you need something” but rather “we’re family and if I have to hunt you down get ready.”

So back to Mr. Matt – he decided to go pro bono and mobile – with curbside service no less.  I’m not sure what moved him to action other than a fatherly heart but he decided to stage senior (12^th graders) portraits in their own driveways (so they had one).  You can read the article here and check out the pics here.

I personally was consumed by the stories as they were told through the article.  The intent was not to photoshop the circumstance but present it as visual testimony.  Not a reminder either but simply an acknowledgement, a mild second-hand empathetic gesture.  It’s 8:30 am as I write this entry and my first of two has just woken up (only to get his phone and go back to bed) – things are different.  And it reminded me of why I shared with my staff just this past Friday this clip by Rita Pierson – I did so not as some spare gesture but as someone who had personally benefited from her mentorship.

And despite everything and without taking away anything we have a decision to make.  By my estimates, Mr. Matt and Ms. Rita are special people but they are not that rare – walk the mile to my son’s English teacher and while she’s not common, she’s got company.  And I’m certain her door will be unlocked…

The other evening my wife and I were talking with our younger son about a book he had just received.  He’s an aspiring author and had purchased an instructional guide on how to improve his craft.  The website alone says it all – Helping Writers Become Authors dot com.

This how-to reference lays out in comprehensive fashion the critical elements of writing a story others will want to read, with an emphasis on the do’s and don’ts (which ironically comes with its own controversy – dos and don’ts?).  What I learned from my son via this book is that there are three general types of character development, that is, the human curve that occurs over the course of any novel.  They are the positive change arc, the flat arc, and the negative change arc.  The positive change arc is by far the most popular yet complicated to develop and introduces readers to an essential figure within the story that changes for the better.  The other two arcs are fairly self-explanatory.

We learned on Friday that schools in Texas will remain closed for the rest of this school year.  Over the weekend I spent time reading about the positive changers that are emerging during the pandemic.  Here locally the owners of a Mexican restaurant that had to transition to a delivery and to-go model also had to significantly scale back their workforce.  When they approached their landlords about rent relief, a story was in the making (How One Mexican Restaurant Is Feeding Workers at Two Dallas Hospitals)!  Elsewhere, a thirteen-year-old wunderkind answered the call when he learned about the bruising that was occurring to health care workers who have been forced to wear medical masks for such extended periods.  The seventh-grade Boy Scout DIYer found a design on the internet to create ear guards using his own 3-D printer.  One proud post later by his mom and Quinn Callander became known to over half a million people.  He has now donated more than 500 straps to people near and far.  And across the pond, a 99-year-old WWII veteran raised $33 million for Britain’s health-care system by walking his garden.  He set up a fundraising page and decided to walk the 82-foot length of his garden back and forth 100 times, using his walker for support.  Capt. Tom Moore turns 100 on April 30^th and wanted to raise 1,000 pounds (the equivalent to $1,250) to thank medical staff who helped him with treatment for cancer and a broken hip.  He would walk 10 laps at a time and posted frequently to social media over the six days it took him to complete his adventure.  The response by his followers was overwhelming and his JustGiving campaign is the largest total ever raised and the fastest growing on the platform.

There’s a quote making its rounds on the internet and says:

“2020 is a unique Leap Year.  It has 29 days in February, 300 days in March, and 5 years in April.”

Funny but not funny, right?  Earlier this month our three high school principals came together (virtually) and hashed out a gesture worthy of an NBC story.  They knew all kids were having an emotional time after leaving for spring break recess back on March 6^th only later to learn through emergency closures that it would effectively conclude this school year.  They were especially concerned about their seniors and had simple yard signs delivered to some 2,000 graduates-to-be.  On it the message was anything but simple – “We Love Our Seniors.”  We all have an opportunity to allow this moment in time to change the trajectory of our character and it potentially can go one of three ways…

Today’s question – how do you not write about COVID-19 during COVID-19?  The answer – you don’t.  This pandemic doesn’t have a date like 9/11 and hopefully won’t ultimately have a year either.  What started with 2 people in King County (Washington) back in February has now tipped north of 22K as I write this post.  I’m in the school business and so are many reading my entries; for most, learning and life go on.

A colleague whose daughter lives in an apartment outside NYC has now maxed out on her Instacart deliveries and needs to probably lease the adjoining space for her daughter so she can store all of the goods sent by M.O.M.  Curfews tend to be more fluid, early starts are all relative, and Easter came and went without a shower (I’m not talking about the weather 😊).  Tennis team meetings still happen, viola lessons keep going, doctor’s visits happen – VIRTUALLY anything can happen.  Even a televet visit for our dog who blew out her knee stayed on schedule.

So back to the subject of the question at hand – COVID-19.  I was a little late to this article which was first published last week by ProPublica, a nonprofit news group located in the epicenter.  But I’m glad I came across it and I would encourage you twice to read it.  What unfolds is an informal diary of Simon Ressner, a FDNY battalion chief based in central Brooklyn, as he recounts his latest 24-hour shift, a tour of duty that began at 9 a.m. on Friday, April 3.  Here is an excerpt:

“I am working as chief in Battalion 57 of the FDNY, located in Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn. Bed-Stuy is a historically African-American neighborhood that saw its population grow during the time when huge numbers of Southern blacks migrated north, leaving agriculture work for ostensibly better jobs. In the last few years, it has undergone major gentrification, but it still remains culturally and demographically an African-American neighborhood with a history of both hard times and cultural richness. Since almost all the country’s past traumas have always hit the poor neighborhoods worst, I wonder what this worst situation, COVID-19, is going to entail and for how long.  I was a fireman here 25 years ago and now have returned as chief towards the end of my career. I thought that surviving Sept. 11, 2001, would be the part of history I would tell grandchildren, but COVID has clearly surmounted even that disastrous and heartbreaking day. The department lost 343; at least 50 of them were people I knew, including my chief, Dennis Cross. He taught me how to fight fires, but also how to sail a boat, and after his death his widow gave me use of his 25-foot Catalina.”

Later in his journaling Ressner describes the roughness of Bedford-Stuyvesant as a location but that “firefighters want to be where the action is, not because they are unfeeling or reckless but because we know that you can’t be good at this without actually doing it.”  I’d like to think the same sentiments could be said about teachers.  They’ve shouldered a load that for now is not a part of my son’s favorite class but certainly will be discussed in World History in the generations that follow.  And as they have risen to every occasion, I’d like to remember they bear a burden we seldom may see.  Because for as much as a teacher does at school, they have now invited their students into their homes.  And with that a completely new dynamic is emerging, one that is taking down more walls and revealing more emotion.  They are first responders…

You ever have one of those days?  You know, one of THOSE days?  It’s been pretty unsettling around here recently.  I’m certain everyone to some degree is having one of THOSE days.

Cabin fever is in full tilt and every evening I’m greeted to the chorus of silence.  What I’ve come to understand is my kids expect me home by a certain time and as long as I meet check in we’re good.  That was then.  Things are much different now.  We’re juggling meals to kids who need them, wondering when we’re good to go, and what all this means.  We’re watching church via livestream and shopping multiple grocery stores to get all the items on our list.

I was corresponding with a former supervisor last night and she reminded me of what this work meant to me.  I started in public ed to be a voice for those that need it and now it seems we all need to be advocating for one another.  So full disclosure, I’m tired.  I’m tired as I write this and I grow more tired when I think about the work that lies ahead.  And then I remember what’s at stake.

My family was together yesterday when news broke about Kenny Rogers.  My wife and I started belting out the tracks and my oldest was like “Who?” and “you mean Mr. Rogers?”  And we’re like NO, the Gambler!  We made our younger son cue up the karaoke and both boys suffered through track after track…

And then last night the toilet overflowed which was pretty symbolic I must say.  We raced to shut off the water and contain the damage as the ceiling in our kitchen started to sag (it sits right below the upstairs bathroom).

When I got up this morning for whatever reason I thought about Walt Whitman but not for “O Captain!  My Captain!” which was popularized in more contemporary media through Dead Poets Society.  I had New York on my mind and remembered the longer poem “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry.”  Whitman free-versed through a tale of commuters before the Brooklyn Bridge was completed in 1883 and their daily travels on a ferry running between Brooklyn and Manhattan.  It’s a story about the shared human experience that connects us all throughout generations and the rituals that endure.  That, collectively, we are all a part of a larger family; he writes about a sense of unity.  And he delivers a message on hope…

“Be firm, rail over the river, to support those who lean.”

Today was a tough day for my school district.  It was a tougher day for the campus where my wife is a first grade teacher.  Each year our 5^th graders journey some distance for overnight camps as part of our district’s broader curriculum.  On these excursions we recruit parent volunteers to assist and also provide our students with some familiar comforts.  We had a tragedy involving a parent couple enroute to chaperoning earlier today.

Our district communication response was general and vague, but I understand the constraints these types of situations present.  We want to be as transparent as possible while abiding by the rules that we are obligated to adhere to.

So let me take you behind the scenes a bit; as much as I can.  We had a tragedy and we’ll leave it at that – it involved my teacher wife’s school and it involved my teacher wife’s students; so now I’m more involved.  We’re all just reeling and trying to get clarity around the news.  I was offsite, out of city, when my phone started to blow up so I stepped away from my conference and made the hotel room my own personal headquarters.  After the customary calls to those I would call in my role I called a dear friend and asked he drop everything and go onsite – he did.  I also reached out to my pastor for support as they have adopted this particular school and provide ongoing welcome support throughout the year.

In the end, we have three beautiful children going home to a completely different reality.  It’s certainly not fair and it weighs on everyone involved, but I’d like to believe our community is strong enough to step in.  We will continue to lend the “what can I do” attitude.  As I was calling/texting/harassing the campus principal today and concerned about her but also my wife, a principal colleague responded and said she was unavailable but he was by her side.  I texted him I was concerned about my wife’s reaction and he said the whole first grade team was crushed and taking it hard; I appreciated his candor.  He’s a great principal and just a better than great dude by showing up to lend support.  It’s a scary world sometimes and I gave up ten years ago trying to make sense of it all but I’m uplifted each day by the belief we’re generally in this together.  Tonight will be long and tomorrow longer, but I know we have the right compassionate leaders ready to respond accordingly.

You ever have that feeling that you’re close to the right answer only to find yourself questioning if there really is one?  Assuming there is one, have you ever felt “unresolved” even when you discovered it?

My oldest child recently shared with me an essay he was working on for an important assignment – his selected task was to unpack the core value of character.  I don’t know if I’ve ever been more proud after reviewing his best park yourself and stay awhile postulate:  “Everyone wants to strive to make themselves and others around better in some way.  That wanting is where a person of good character is found, and where an even greater society can be made.”

Wow!  Just wow!  To recap, he said let’s help one another.  It’s easy to get jaded sometimes and I admit I’ve struggled myself in battling that little negative voice.  What I’ve learned as I’ve gotten older (grown old?) is too many people mistake perceived righteousness for rightness.  My work, much like many of yours, never started with black/white absolutes, only shades of grey.  With time, I’ve come to understand how to better respond to all the different hues.  As an example, it’s okay to run a red light sometimes.  If you’re driving your pregnant wife to the hospital because she’s gone into labor and without providing too many details you just KNOW time is of the essence, you may need to coast through an intersection.  But as a responsible driver you do so after a quick assessment of the surroundings.  It’s a judgement call that can only be informed by previous judgements.

On Nature for those who did not have a childhood indoctrination like me is said to be the only book ever written by the ancient Greek philosopher Heraclitus (and I thought Jeff with a G was torture enough).  He has sometimes been argued as the first humanist had he not been such an elitist!  A deep thinker known for his writings on the universe, politics, and theology.  And, of course, the laws of nature.  He was an extremist and seemed to speak in contradictions, but I related to this particular quote:

“Wisdom is to speak the truth and act in keeping with its nature.”

I started this post as a proud papa and I end it heaped in responsibility.  The person I see the most is myself.  And if I start avoiding the mirror then I know I’ve let us both down.  If you’re a principal, who do you see?  If you’re a teacher, who do you see?  And if you’re a student, who do you see?  As long as you see yourself (collectively), you’ll see your character.

PS – Don’t coast through an intersection – that was simply an example to illustrate the laws of nature!