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...