Incremental Change

My entry today is a bit longer than usual and if you can stick with me, the message should resonate. Today marks a milestone for me. One thousand days ago, I set out to create a simple streak. The goal was not grand or complicated. It was simply to run, jog, or walk at least two miles in a single workout each day. That was it. Nothing more. And yet this small commitment has carried me through one thousand consecutive days without a break.

When I think about the meaning of this streak, it is not about speed, distance, or competition. It is about consistency. It is about showing up. There were days when I felt strong and energetic, and there were days when I felt tired or overwhelmed. There were days of sunshine and days of rain. There were days when I had little time and had to squeeze in the bare minimum. Yet in every circumstance, I honored the streak.

This streak has taught me that improvement rarely comes in a single giant leap. It comes in steady, almost invisible steps. One day does not look like much. Two miles is not a marathon. Yet when you add up those small steps, when you stay faithful to the process, the result becomes something powerful. That lesson does not belong only to fitness. It belongs to every part of our lives, including the work we do together in education. Imagine what would happen if we each started a streak of our own. It does not have to be about running or walking. It could be a teaching streak. Maybe it is reading aloud to your class every single day, even if only for ten minutes. Maybe it is greeting every student at the door with a smile. Maybe it is sending one encouraging note a week to a colleague. It could be something outside the classroom altogether. A fitness streak. A reading streak. A family dinner streak. The point is not what the streak is, but what it builds inside of us. When we create streaks, we create momentum. Momentum keeps us moving even when motivation feels low. Momentum builds habits, and habits shape culture. As teachers and leaders, the culture we shape is contagious. Students see it. They feel it. They mirror it. When we model consistency and dedication, they learn that goals are reached not by luck but by steady effort.

I have also discovered that streaks are deeply personal. Better is not defined by someone else. Better is defined by each of us. My streak is not about being the fastest runner or covering the greatest distance. It is about keeping a promise I made to myself. For you, better might mean something entirely different. And that is the beauty of it. Better belongs to you. I do not want you to hear this and think that a streak is only about numbers. It is about meaning. It is about proving to yourself that you can take small steps every day toward something that matters. Over time, those steps add up. They add up in fitness. They add up in reading. They add up in relationships. They add up in classrooms.

One thousand days ago, I had no idea what this streak would become. I only knew that I needed to take that day’s step. Today, looking back, I see how those simple daily choices built something significant. The streak now runs my day. I have to move forward. I no longer have to find motivation because with my streak, the motivation found me. So I want to encourage you to consider your own streak. Choose something that matters to you. Start small. Stay consistent. Share it with your students if you want them to join in. Or keep it as a personal reminder of your own capacity to grow. Whatever you choose, let it be your steady path toward becoming better.

Better is not about perfection. It is about progress. It is about the courage to take one more step today, and then another tomorrow, and then another after that. Before long, those steps become a journey. And that journey will be worth celebrating. Though I have known this my whole life, I lived it when I was recovering from a life-threatening bout with the original COVID-19 (The Beast as I called it). As I recounted in my book ‘Upright’, due to the massive damage to my lungs and the significant scar tissue present, my oxygen uptake often expressed as VO2 max, was limited at best. My diminished lung capacity impaired my ability to perform basic daily activities, including walking around the house. I would often have to stop to catch my breath just walking to the kitchen. Walk up the stairs? Forget it. Over a 6 month period, I improved to a point that I could walk around the grocery store at a slow pace, but that simple activity expended energy resources.  

I have come a long way since then but I can remember the feeling. I used to coach myself with every step. I would tell myself, “baby steps”. Move incrementally toward the goal. Get better every day. Some days are better than others, but try everyday to move toward the goal. Incremental change works. It is a proven strategy for sustainable progress over time. I’ll take that any day. 

Until next time...

Dreams

There is a song that has been on repeat in my mind this week. It is by Ryan Shupe and the RubberBand and it carries a message that is both simple and profound. The song is called ‘Dream Big’. Whenever I take time to slow down and truly listen to the words, I am reminded that the message inside them can fit almost any moment in life. It can be a message to students who are just beginning to shape their hopes and ideas for the future. It can be a message from a parent to a child as they tuck them in at night, planting seeds of possibility and reminding them that the world is wide open. It can be a message from colleague to colleague, offered in those moments when work feels heavy and the road ahead seems long. It can even be that quiet pep talk we give ourselves when doubt begins to creep in and we need to be reminded that our goals are still worth pursuing.

Dreams give us direction. They push us beyond the limits we sometimes place on ourselves. They remind us that the future is not fixed, it is shaped by courage, creativity, and persistence. Think about a student who dreams of being the first in their family to graduate college. That dream becomes fuel. It carries them through long nights of homework and early mornings of study. Think about a teacher who dreams of reaching that one quiet student in the back of the room. That dream drives patience, care, and the extra mile it takes to build trust. Think about a parent who dreams of giving their child opportunities they never had. That dream strengthens sacrifice and keeps love steady even in difficult times.

But dreaming big is not always easy. Life has a way of placing struggles in our path. We all carry burdens that can weigh down our outlook. It becomes tempting to settle for smaller dreams, to accept limits, or to let cynicism creep in. That is why encouragement matters so much. The words we speak to each other either build walls or open doors. When we choose to support, when we choose to listen, and when we choose to understand rather than criticize, we help each other keep those dreams alive.

Like anyone, I have dreams of my own, both personal and professional. Some of them I continue to work toward every day. Others I left behind, and those missed chances still linger in my thoughts. That reminder keeps me focused in the present. It pushes me to encourage my children to hold tightly to their dreams and not let them slip away. My oldest son dreamed of traveling the world when he was just a boy. Today he lives in another country, chasing that very dream. My oldest daughter has a vision of owning her own business, and I could not be prouder to support her. My next son talks about studying bioengineering at Stanford or MIT, and although he worries about not being admitted, we applied together because the first step to a dream is daring to try. My younger daughter longs to perform on the stage, and I know I will cry tears of joy when the curtain rises on her opening night. Then there is my youngest son, who has the boundless imagination of a child. One day he wants to be a race car driver, the next day an astronaut, the next day an explorer of lands unseen. My answer to him is always the same: So do I, let’s do it. 

The more I reflect on dreams, the more I realize that supporting the dreams of others is often more fulfilling than chasing my own. To see a child or a colleague step into their passion and to know that I played even a small role in cheering them forward brings a joy that lasts. Whether it is a student finding their way, a colleague who needs encouragement, a child who looks up to us, or that quiet voice inside our own hearts, the message is the same. Dreams matter. They remind us that the best chapters of our lives are still waiting to be written. 

Until next time...

Keep

This week, I found motivation from Shakespeare’s Claudius in Hamlet, "When sorrows come, they come not as a single spy but as battalions." I suppose the more current saying would be “Bad things come in threes.”  We have all heard one or more variations of these sayings at one time or another in our lives. The sentiment is that negative events come at us in bunches. Life has a way of throwing challenges at us, sometimes not one at a time, but all at once. It can feel overwhelming when the setbacks come in battalions. This week I was also given a better answer, or truth, in response. The blessings of life are often found in the struggle. To fold your cards and stop playing is never the answer. To give in to a negative event is to let it define you. Consider the idea of boiling water. While it softens a potato, it hardens an egg. The same adversity produces different outcomes, not because of the water, but because of what lies within. Circumstances don’t determine who we become. Our character does. One bad event doesn’t have the power to ruin an entire day unless we give it permission. Refuse to be affected by the negative, and you will never be infected by it. With that, I jotted down a list, of what I call, ‘Keeps’.

Keep moving forward. Keep positive. Keep devoted to your goals. Keep unwavering in your ethics. Keep laughing, even when it’s hard. Keep your head up and your heart open. Keep learning something new every day. Keep extending grace. Keep your promises. Keep shining your light. Keep encouraging someone else. Keep taking care of yourself. Keep daring to dream. Keep your patience when it’s tested. Keep building bridges, not walls. Keep choosing kindness. Keep faith in the process. Keep resilience in your spirit. Keep gratitude at the center. Keep celebrating small victories. Keep listening more than you speak. Keep finding joy in simple things. Keep being a role model. Keep hope alive. Keep showing up, even on the tough days. Keep giving more than you take. Keep trusting the journey. Keep your curiosity alive. Keep smiling. Keep asking good questions. Keep courage in your pocket. Keep forgiving quickly. Keep seeing the best in people. Keep sharpening your skills. Keep writing your own story. Keep standing for what’s right. Keep humility at the forefront. Keep peace in your words. Keep balance in your life. Keep passion in your work. Keep your eyes on the bigger picture. Keep planting seeds for the future. Keep good care of your knees, you’ll miss them when they are gone. Keep believing that your impact matters.

When the battalions of sorrow march in, do not surrender your spirit. Call on your inner strength, hold firm to your values, and let your character rise to do the fighting. A single bad moment does not have the power to own your entire day unless you choose to hand it that authority. Instead, stand strong in who you are, stay grounded in what matters most, and keep perspective in the face of adversity. Remember that it is never the boiling water itself that determines the outcome. What matters is what is within. The potato softens, the egg hardens, but both sit in the same pot. In the same way, the circumstances of life do not define you. It is what you are made of that makes all the difference.These are the things I often ponder. The difficulty for all of us is in the execution. Words hurt. Actions hurt. Sometimes our students, and students’ parents do both. Yes, your response matters, though we should not let it infect us and our thinking. That will simply lead to stinking thinking. Nobody needs that. You matter more. You cannot help anyone or be there for your students if you are not taking care of yourself. (cue Michael Franti - Sound of Sunshine)

Until next time...

Standing Up, Stepping In, and Helping Out

Every so often, we come across moments that remind us what community really means. Sometimes it’s small such as holding the door for a stranger or offering a kind word when someone looks like they’re carrying the weight of the world. Other times it’s bigger like choosing to step into a difficult situation, to speak up for someone who doesn’t have the strength, or to remind others that dignity and respect aren’t optional.

It has always been my personal philosophy to try and be part of the solution. My father always said, "Stand up for what is right". Thanks to my Dad, an educator of 40 years, I was instilled with the moral belief that there are those among us that need assistance whether or not they make it known. He taught me that standing up for what is right is more than the defense of a person that has been wronged. It can be the defense of an ideal. such as living in a fair society when people are cutting the line. It is striving to live up to the standard, above the line, even when it's difficult. Sometimes it is standing up for the lessor among us that may be nameless, such as helping the poor or destitute. 

Standing up for the “lesser among us” isn’t always glamorous. It rarely comes with applause or recognition. In fact, it often requires quiet courage, the kind that says, “Even if no one else sees this, I’ll do the right thing.” Think of the student who notices a classmate sitting alone at lunch and decides to sit down next to them. Or the teacher who spots a child slipping through the cracks and finds a way to connect. Those small acts add up to a powerful truth that when we stand up for others, we strengthen the entire fabric of our community.

It is reflecting upon whether my actions are part of the solution, or part of the problem. It is being part of the greater moral and ethical push to be better everyday. Sure, there will be those days when decisions are wrapped with failure of the ideal, but soon there will be a new day to get it right. We can then make the right choices, right the ship, and become part of the solution.

As a flawed human being, I know I am not perfect. I also know that I can strive for perfect and never reach it, but at least I am trying every day to be better. As I tell students, to be better, we need to act better. Only then will a change become noticed. 

Until next time...

Have It All

This week I offer a commentary that is a little more personal as this past month has been one for the memory books. On July 24th, my oldest son got married, and our family spent three incredible weeks celebrating, laughing, reminiscing, and soaking in the joy of such a milestone event. For me, the moments were even more endearing due to the fact that, because of my son’s profession, he lives in the country of Oman. The geographic distance simply means our face to face visits are limited at best. It is for this reason, his wedding had a way of making time stand still, or at least slow down a little. The laughter around the dinner table, the conversations that stretch late into the evening, was special. Those are the moments that linger in the heart.  

I’ll admit, I’ve found myself drifting into a bit of a dream state since then. My mind trails off to images of my son and his new bride stepping into their future together. I think about the way he smiled when he saw her walk down the aisle, the joy in their voices as they exchanged vows, and the love that filled the room as two families became one. These thoughts come back often, and they are good ones. They are blessings in themselves. But life doesn’t pause for too long. As quickly as July passed in celebration, August has arrived with its own shift in rhythm. This week, all three of my children started school, and suddenly, our household feels different. Backpacks, pencils, early alarms, practices, and packed snacks remind me that life continues to move forward. As a parent, you feel that tug. The pride of watching your kids grow paired with the ache of realizing just how quickly the years seem to go. 

And that’s where I introduce a song. Jason Mraz’s song “Have It All” comes to mind. Every time I hear it, I can’t help but smile. It’s a song that feels like a letter to the next generation. It’s a blessing wrapped in melody, a wish that those you love might carry joy, kindness, and resilience into every corner of their lives. The chorus repeats the hopeful phrase: “I want you to have it all.” Not in the sense of material possessions or worldly success, but in the deeper sense. The kind of “all” that makes life meaningful. The kindness of strangers. The courage to face setbacks. The love of family and friends. The wisdom to know when to keep going and when to pause. The idea that as a father, I want my children to enter a room ‘as an esteemed guest’. 

As my children step into this new school year, that’s exactly what I want for them. I want them to “have it all”. I want them to be curious, to work hard, to be kind even when it’s not easy, and to recognize the beauty in both big moments, like a wedding day, and small moments, like laughing in the cafeteria with friends. And for my son and his new bride, I find myself wishing them the same. Marriage, like education, is a lifelong journey. It comes with lessons, challenges, and moments of triumph. The truth is, we all need a little more of the spirit behind “Have It All.” Whether we’re sending kids off to school, watching a child walk down the aisle, or simply navigating the day-to-day routine, those words remind us to live generously, to offer encouragement freely, and to never underestimate the power of kindness.

So as I adjust to the new season in my family’s life, I’m carrying that message with me. I hope my kids carry it too. I wish it for all that I come in contact with on a daily basis. May you always know the richness of community, the strength of compassion, and the joy that comes when we wish the very best for those around us. If you haven’t heard Jason Mraz’s song, give it a listen.

Until next time...

Simple

There’s a simple lyric from Michael Franti that’s been echoing in my mind lately: “Work hard and be nice.” I play this song for my kids quite often in the mornings as a reminder at the start of their day. On the surface, it doesn’t sound like much, just five words strung together. But if you let them sink in, you realize they carry the kind of wisdom that could transform not only classrooms, but entire communities. When you think about it, life is rarely smooth. Every one of us is carrying something that others can’t always see. Could be a worry, a past mistake, a health concern, a family struggle, or even just the weight of showing up every day and giving our best when our best feels stretched thin. We all have our cross to bear. Sometimes it’s obvious, but most of the time, it’s invisible. And yet, in the midst of all that, we still bump into each other. We share hallways, meeting rooms, playground duties, and countless conversations. Those interactions can either add to someone’s burden or help lighten it. Too often, without even realizing it, we slip into criticism: “You didn’t finish this.” “You should have done that.” “You always…” or “You never…” Those little “you” statements can sting, especially when someone’s already carrying more than they let on. But what if we tried something different?

What if we shifted from “you” statements to “I” statements? Instead of, “You’re not listening to me,” we try, “I feel unheard when I’m talking.” Instead of, “You need to step up,” we say, “I would appreciate more help with this.” That simple shift changes the tone. It takes the edge off and opens the door to understanding. It invites dialogue instead of building walls. So back to the song and the lyrics. Here is where Franti’s lyric hits home. Working hard is essential and none of us are strangers to effort. But being nice is the piece that transforms effort into impact. Kindness is not weakness. It doesn’t mean lowering standards or avoiding accountability. It means approaching others with encouragement before criticism, with support before judgment. It means remembering that everyone is fighting battles we can’t always see. In schools especially, this message matters. Our students watch how we handle conflict, how we talk to one another, how we respond when we’re frustrated. They’re learning not just from our lessons, but from our lives. When they see us practicing patience, offering encouragement, and choosing to lift each other up rather than tear down, they’re learning what real community looks like. 

It is my personal challenge to notice the way I communicate. To pause when I am speaking and pick my words. To pay attention to moments when criticism may be a first impulse and then ask, “How can I make an impact with this?” Because at the end of the day, our legacy won’t just be measured by the test scores or the programs we implemented. It will be measured by how we treated the people we worked alongside and the students we served. 

If you haven’t heard Michael Franti’s song, it is worth a listen. Work hard. Be nice. It is universal in application and so simple. 

Until next time...

Pay It Forward

Last spring, a small moment reminded me how the simplest acts can ripple outward in ways we might never fully see. A teacher walked into my office with a gift bag saying, “I thought you’d enjoy this,” she said, handing it to me with a smile. I opened the bag and found one of her favorite books. There was no special occasion, no hidden agenda. Just a thoughtful gift from one reader to another. Now, if you know me at all, you know that books are my weakness. A good story or a fresh perspective is like oxygen for my brain. I accepted it with genuine gratitude, then immediately began flipping it over to read the back cover. That book became the next on my reading list and it was wonderful. That simple gift reminded me that reading is more than just a skill we teach, it’s a bridge we build. Every book is a doorway, and when we hand one to someone else, we’re not just passing on paper and ink, we’re passing on possibility. So, I decided to pay it forward.

I chose a different teacher, someone who didn’t know this little chain of kindness had already begun. I told the teacher I was bringing the book. No reason, no celebration, it was just because. I then told her the story, and stated “I’m paying that gift forward. I’m asking you to do the same when the time feels right.” That’s the beauty of paying it forward. You can’t always predict where the gift will land next, but you can trust it will keep moving.

In our world where our days are jammed with making plans, deadlines, and a thousand small fires to put out, we sometimes forget that one of the most important things we give our students isn’t on any official curriculum. It’s an example of kindness in action. Whether it’s lending a hand, offering a listening ear, or sliding a book across a desk, we are teaching them what community looks like. And when that kindness comes in the form of a book? Well, now you’ve got a double win. You’re modeling generosity and you’re fueling the love of reading. So here’s my challenge for you this year. If you receive a book from another, pay one forward. Pick one you’ve loved, or one you think someone else will. Tell them it’s part of a chain. Tell them the only catch is that they have to also pay it forward. Ask them to keep it moving. As far as the book is concerned, you never know if it will inspire or if it will be loved as you intended. You simply need to take stock in the fact that your kindness has been delivered. Throwing the unknowns aside, I can promise you that when that person takes up reading the book, they will turn a page, pause, and think of you. And that is a story worth writing.

Until next time...