more.....continued

I said I knew certain things about myself. I do. I know that I'm a strong individual. That I know sometimes that things take time. That certain words -- honor, responsibility -- mean something to me in the bigger picture. That I know how to handle emotional events and get people through them. That I don't need you to "understand" me. That I am -- on a very simple level -- a good guy trying to understand his life. That I'm flawed. That I'm a mix of talents that are the result of everything that's happened to me in this life and every choice I've made. That like a Lakota tribesman I can handle your pain, and your pain, and your pain, assume it, freeing you.....and keep going.
more later......

titles?? who needs titles?

We're approaching New Year's. It's supposed to be a time of reflection, the start of another year, etc. But it always struck me as "amateur" night. So I never much went out on New Year's. I preferred to be with my partner (if I had one) or by myself. The calling at midnight struck me as false. What would you say then that would be different?
Reflection is part of my life. A serious part.
I constantly have goals for how I want to live. For what I want to stride towards.
I just know that life isn't necessarily a "compose this list and check things off" experience. Time factors in. Some timelines take longer to become clear and take hold. I don't have goals to be able to say "see I'm a good person, let me check this off." I don't do things by "lists." It isn't that simple. Life tends to be more complex and less simplistic. Good and bad are relative judgements. By other people. Which invalidates them in my mind. The question is
"How do I judge myself?" That's the answer I'm traveling too.
And I don't expect to get there. See the "timelines take longer...." part of this. I do know certain things about myself.
More later.

the state of things....

I am many things. Chiefly a romantic. Yes...hard to believe, I know. I've been known to cry at AT&T commercials. Ya know, "call your mother." Those. It's the side of me that believes in regeneration. In second chances. In the possibility of a person changing. In anything remotely hopeful. In the existence of good. Within each of us. It's the part of me that doesn't allow me to have a shorthand to relate to people with. It's also the part of me that sometimes infuriates people. Because they'd like simpler, more direct approaches. You know, "people don't change, make a decision." Sorry, it isn't that easy. My father changed radically. I've changed radically. Change is possible. What language can I use that can get that person there?
I don't use language easily. I use it well. But never easily. I will use it to manipulate. But, believe it or not, your choice, for what I conceive to be the greater good. There's an element of trust that one must have running through this narrative.
But I'm also a pragmatist. It's the part of me that let's me turn from your troubles and not give it another thought. It's the part of me that sometimes doesn't look away from my computer as you talk to me. I make a lot of decisions. I balance a lot of factors. I'm not asking for understanding. I do what I do.
One of the things I ask myself is "can I effect change?" Positive change. Through sideways leadership. If yes, then I try. If not, well.....

Here and there...

So many interesting things happening. Barack elected. Gas prices dropping. But many more negative things occurring. The market. The wars. Fear. I really believe that in a randomly assorting universe we're motivated by only two impulses -- either love or fear. Both are choices we make. So many things...so quiuckly....assaulting our senses. Our tendency is to -- I think -- numb ourselves to what we experiencing so that we can manage it and get through the day. But when that happens to me I have to keep reminding myself that I'm missing the point. The point isn't to get through the day, or to feel numb to survive. I believe we live to avoid being numb. Hurt. Pain Joy. Happiness. Disappointment. Frustration. Elation. Those feelings make us alive. We have to experience them. It's why we're here. The numbness, the deadness inside we feel as a response to life hurts us. At that point we've chosen fear. I won't chose fear. I'll keep choosing to experience, to feel. Even if I don't know just yet what those feelings mean, or where they're taking me.

today

I have two daughters. They are my world. One is in Boston at school. The other is getting ready to go live in California for a couple of years. I don't like it. But I won't say anything about my dislike. It's their life. Yeah, I'm their dad but it's their life. That simple fact was a hard one. But everything after that was easy.
I've always wanted them to know how special I considered them. How amazing they are. But not in a false way. They truly have more chambers of my heart then they know.
It's good that they're following their hearts.

my birthday

I had a birthday recently. The Stones "You Can't Always Get What You Want Played in the Background." I'm midway through my fifties. I'm old. I'm okay with it. Yeah, I'm a little fatter....a little balder....but I'm still....me. I don't live my life according to other people's projections. I don't live to be "perfect." I don't live to have the most toys.
I live to be the best "me" I can be. Nothing else. I have an amazing life that I appreciate every day. My work is challenging, fulfilling, consuming. But it isn't me. My daughters are amazing, smart, tough women who have given me years of absolute joy to be in their lives. But they aren't me. I've loved only two women in my life. One for twenty years. One for almost three. But they aren't me.
I've been told I'm like TV characters. House in particular. I find the notion cute. Nobody should live to be like a TV character. I don't.
The truth is that "me" is constantly changing.....adapting.....hopefully growing. I challenge myself every day. To live honestly. To give of myself. To laugh.
It's fun. It was a good birthday.

Just one reality

I'm worried. I've been going thru the motions this summer. Kinda on autopilot. Summer school is by nature different. Few, if any, discipline problems. A time to plan actually. I try to not email my staff. Everyone needs time to get their head together. And that's the problem.
My head isn't into it. I can't say it any straighter than that. Usually, at this time of year, after 18 years, I begin to get charged up. I miss the kids. The internal clock starts sending messages. I start to rev a bit. I have a mental checklist. 6th gr. orientation. staff orientation. handbook. Frankly, I start missing it. Missing the new year. The new group of kids. Missing how we can do this work better. Setting standards for what I expect of myself. Knowing the vision. And knowing that action follows it.
And I am feeling some of those things. But the primordial, this is mine, I have to build it....hasn't hit yet. And without it, I wonder how I can do the work I know I need too.

This and that

I just realized that it's my birthday in a month. I dunno, I've grown somewhat tired of the whole "birthday" thing. I mean, I've had a lot of them. Some stand out. Like my 30th. Most fade in memory. When my daughters were growing up, I couldn't wait to see their handmade cards. And the hugs and kisses that went with them.Those were special. Buit really, I've had a lot of birthdays. I've never known exactly what I was supposed to do. To me they were just a day. But others seemed to get ramped up about them.
I also realized this weekend, after the birthday realization, that around my birthday both daughters will be geographically far away. One will be in Boston while the other is in California. So much of my life since '97 has been trying to figure out how to be a good dad, how to fit my life into theirs. I've gotten pretty good at it. And I knew after a week at school, I could see them. Yeah...I can phone them. And I will. But I definitely don't like the idea of them being so far away. As much as I know that this is the way it has to be. They are adult women. They need to live their lives. I've raised them for this day. Along with my ex. But that doesn't mean I have to be happy about it. Some things you just file away, and some you work hard to get to that place where you're okay with things. I have to work to get to that place.

Moments...

My younger daughter turned 18 today. It is an important moment. She is an amazing young woman. Full of strength and heart and smarts and humor. So I called and asked if I could take her to lunch. And she looked so very beautiful. She's helped me make such wonderful memories of her and I together as we've both grown and changed and morphed into the people we're becoming. The best thing about me is that I truly believe I've tried to be a good dad to two amazing girls, now both women. Not bad. Not bad at all.

blogs....

A friend, a while ago, sent me a blog. I don't really seek out, or go looking, at people's blogs. Except for my sisters. For everyone else, it's tough enough posting to my own blog, to be reading everyone else's. But this friend sent me a link. And I've been reading it. It's a guy who works a farm he owns, and does hospice work, and publishes pics of life on the farm, and talks about his dogs, etc. And it's kinda cool. I favorited it and check it every few days. The photos are beautiful. It's "Bedlam Farm Journal." Really god stuff.

hmmmm....

I laugh at myself a lot. Mainly because I accept and realize the unpredictability of life. What other response would be appropriate? We spend so much time living to a code, being honorable, trying to reflect some religious moral whatever we've being imbued with. And we should. I do....everyday.But it's silly. And we know it. Why? Because the universe doesn't care and assorts randomly. We hate that last part....the randomness. Because we can't fit it anywhere. Humans have a need for answers. That what distinguishes us. Not a prehensile thumb. We need answers. In the middle ages people turned to the Church for answers. Before that, spirits inhabited the world. What people wanted was answers. Randomness doesn't allow us answers. Or much help in figuring out to live. Western civilizations fault was that it saw progress in a straight line and couldn't believe things were circular.
Wow....I'm tired.....lol

Health and thoughts and how I want to live...

I found out recently that I'm a borderline diabetic. No puncturing yet. I also have high blood pressure. I have to lose some weight and monitor my blood sugar. My pressure is good -- controlled by meds. But the question is "how do I want to live?" I don't want to spend time talking about this, or having concerned friends asking me if I can "eat this?" I also won't trudge from doctors office to doctors office running down cures.
It will twist some people because they'll think I'm being cavalier about it all. Trust me. I'm not. I'm soon to be 55 and I know my daughters are going to achieve amazing things and I want to see them do it.
And I have my work. I love what I do. I'm good at it. I want to do it for about 8 more years. And then, I'm off to my sister, and a condo, a dog, a gated community.....and winking at ladies.
So I am gonna take care of myself, but I don't want it to be the daily topic of conversation or a string of doctors offices. I'm gonna be okay.

Because of Tim Russert

Tim Russert's death spooked me. I had been somewhat cavalier about my health. High Blood Pressure? Yeah, sometimes I took the pills. Stent in my chest? yeah, avoid the heart doctor. Skin cancer? Put off yearly check-ups. Why? Good question. One, I don't like doctors. Not since I saw them use my sister as a pin cushion in the guise of helping her. Two, because I sorta thought it would not happen to me. Like somehow I was invincible.
I've always had amazing energy. Knocked down, I always refigured things and came back. I started my main career at 36. I can be amazingly single minded.
But Russert's death somewhat changed that. I had noticed my body taking longer to recover. I was tired more. So I've embarked on a round of tests; bloodwork. So far.....I'm a borderline diabetic. I have my blood pressure under control. I take my pills. I'm changing my diet to control my sugar. I have a nuclear stress test in two weeks. That will tell me about my heart (if they can find it....lol).
I expect to be doing my work for awhile.

My roots in a randomly changing universe

I grew up in the projects. Two bedrooms. My two sisters, then my brother, four of us...all in a single room. We had one dresser. I got a drawer. For all my possessions. Everything. I found ways to carve out my time. You had too. It wasn't rocket science.....you got up earlier.....went to bed later.....took the first job you were offered at 13......worked weird hours.....did what you could.....didn't explain......you kept moving.....you got old....people assumed things about you....didn't matter....that was them.....and you had fun when and where you could.....in my teenage years that meant usually getting thrown from the dining table (careful....finish eating) by antagonizing your father.....and being involved with women.....they were special.....women....
You got married young......stayed married for 20 years.....raised two of the most amazing daughters....prided yourself on being a dad.....figured out how to be a dad when you were asked to leave the house....and kept moving....working....found your calling....worked it.....am still working it.
I don't have regrets. I've done what I could every step of the way. Who needs to hear the complaints. Which I don't have in a randomly assorting universe.

My kids....

I didn't really care for my graduating class last year. In some cases, the feeling was mutual. I found out last year that something my mother always told me......was true......you loved your kids but you didn't always like them. That's the way I felt about my 8th grade last year.
This year is different. My 6th grade is tough but likable with some amazing kids who are capable of real growth as young people. Same with my 7th grade. Good kids, capable of much.
But my 8th grade this year is special. Hard kids but full of heart and spirit. We were at Graduation Practice the other day and they were doing their song, "Do I make you proud" and I am sooo not known for this but I was looking at their faces, and realizing all we've been through for three years -- the conversations in the "principals office," the meeting with parents, the laughter, the 2nd chances, the third chances, the laughter, the times they just wanted a hug, the times they amazed me in a classroom, the times my teachers stormed into my office demanding I do something, the times my teachers stormed into my office to fight for those same kids, the student cabinet meetings where they wanted a dialogue, their willingness to work hard, their hurts, their happiness, their willingness to stand up for themselves and each other, the fights, the hard truths they learned about themselves -- and I had to walk to the other end of the auditorium. I had started to tear up. They noticed. At dimissal they came up to comment on it and poke fun. I didn't deny it. We laughed. I have struggled to put the people in place to grow a safe environment for students to learn in, and I really just hope they know, that we have told them enough , how special they are. That's why I was tearing up. I hope they know.
At their prom last night, we ended the prom with "Do I make you proud." Boys and girls tearing up, hugging. Kids who were fighting a week ago, hugging. There wasn't a dry eye anywhere. Such a special moment. I stood in the middle of it all. And applauded them. They've earned it.

In memory of Tim Russert....

I've been saddened lately by the passing of Tim Russert. I didn't watch "meet the press" religiously. I didn't buy his books. But when I saw him on TV -- whether the Today show, or an interview, he came across as a geniunely solid individual, happy with his life, and with a joy for what he did. Whether it was sports -- the Bills -- or talking about "Big Russ," his dad. He had amazingly strong views, but I couldn't tell you whether he was a Democrat or Republican (I guessed Democrat). And I liked that about him. He struck me as someone doing with politics what I try to do in classrooms. "Here's what you said, do you still believe it? If not, why?" From what everyone has said, Tim Russert didn't let you hide, or make excuses. He was prepared, and tireless, and unimpressed with celebrity..... but decent. He didn't want, it seemed to me, to hurt you. He just didn't want to let you use the tired old excuses and politics and spin.
And that struck me. Because I'm a public middle school principal building a community in the inner city who refuses to accept excuses. From kids. Or from teachers. I don't think I possess his decency though.
We're similar in other ways as well I've found out. He was a devoted "dad" who talked about how proud he was to be his son's dad often. Anyone who knows me knows I can't keep my absolute devotion and pride in my daughters out of the conversation for long. He loved his work. He was described as a "political junkie." You could tell that. I love my job. Education. Kids. Teaching. I still believe I didn't start becoming the man I always knew I could be until I walked into my first classroom and confronted myself and became open to learning. I started breathing then.
We seem to have had similar fathers. In one interview, he remarked that his dad, "Big Russ" didn't emote. Neither did my dad. But I realized something. Russert understood that his dad was a product of the depression and WWll and survival, and that men like that (as my father was) didn't, as he said, "emote." Russert was okay with that. And his obvious love of his dad shone through. In my own case, I didn't experience the same comfort level. I don't know why.
So I'll miss Russert. And I'll learn from his life. And try to squeeze more joy out of mine. In a randomly assorting universe, I have that choice.

today...

People ask me how personal I want to make this blog. I don't care. I'll write about anything. Someone reading it may be going through a similar thing. Someone happening on it for the first time may be overwhelmed and think it's too intense or too personal. I don't take those things into account. I just want to write. I can't control what you think when you come across it. I just put it out there.
I don't cry. But I am emotional. Finding my sister on my stoop cause her marriage ended didn't bring tears to my eyes. I wanted to drive her cool car. Then we could talk. And we did. Calling my sister when my marriage ended and moving onto her couch and not having to pay a bill for two years brought us even closer. But neither one of us cried. I will not cry on demand. I will cry in the dead of night when I can't figure out how to be a "father" to my daughters and I'll lean on my sister but I won't cry in public. When my sister died and my family fell apart, I didn't cry. I held each and every one of them together. They think I have strength. I don't. I've just tried to work through things. My grief is private. It isn't for a culture that parades things before eachother.
What I am is resilient. In the random assortment of certain qualities, I can deal. I don't consider it strength. I consider it living.

Relationships

I want a relationship. But then I don't. I like my life. I go to the gym. I walk. I have my school. I have my daughters.
But I miss a relationship.
That person you call at the end of the day. That person who gets you. Who you don't have to explain things too. Who just knows. And who you look to talk too. Because the day just isn't done until you 've heard her voice.
I'm not easy relationship material. I'm advanced relatiopnship material. But I won't let your heart be hurt.
My favorite song lately is "keep bleeding love." I've heard it a ton of times with other words. But it stays with me.
I don't care if I'm alone. I simply won't accept.
I'll share. I'll play with your kids. I'll make nice with your family. I'll introduce you to my daughters ---- I hope they like you. I'll buy Christmas trees with you. I'll go to parent teacher night. I'll take you shopping. I'll marry you.
But I'm gonna be me. My dean said today after I made a bad joke that I dance to that line....then I cross it. And she was right. Nothing is safe.
Are you ready for the ride?

U2 and me

U2 has been my talisman for many years. I've seen them 4 times. Their music speaks to my soul about what it means to be Irish. Anywhere. I was in Dublin a bit ago. My first time. I was standing in front of the Claridge Hotel trying to take a picture when an Irish guy walked past....stopped....and whispered conspiratorally, "you know who owns that?" I smiled, as my partner got frustrated at not being able to take the shot, "yeah, I do," I said. "okay," he said, and walked off. We took the shot. It sits in my office, and when all hell is breaking loose, I look at it as cross to my desk, and its calming, despite what"s about to happen.
My sister and I went to see the U2 3D movie in Vegas. We were the only two people in the theater. We had a great time. It was amazing. We also saw U2 in November after 9/11. That was the single most important concert I've ever been a part of. I don't have language that describes what I felt that night as the names of the missing and lost were projected over the venue and Bono wrapped himself carefully, lovingly, in an American flag.
U2 has been a part of my life for 30 years. My older daughter remembers waking up to them every sunday when it was my only day off. I would get up early.....do the weekly shopping.....buy bagels....and the paper....and come home. Everyone would get up late but that was okay. I would make coffee, eat a bagel, read the paper, and listen to U2. She claims to be stunted having to wake up every sunday that way.
So many songs. Bad. Sunday Bloody Sunday. City of Blinding Lights. Angel of Harlem. I will Follow. So many lines. I'm not broken but you can see the cracks. And my favorite.
"What happened to the beauty I had inside myself." I honestly don't know.

Notes....

If you know me, you know the games are never over. There is honesty at the core, but there are always moves to be made. Attachments are always temporary. I have a plan. How do you fit into it? Simply, be good, get good, or get out. And there you have it.

down the road...

I have about 8 years left here. Then I'm off to Vegas, and a condo with a pool, and one or two nights at the casinos, and dinner with my sister. And work. Teaching. Preferrably at a college. And writing. I have two books in mind. One, about my experiences in NYCity Dept. of Ed entitled, "Yo Mister." And another about leadership and community entitled, "Sideways Leadership." There are tons of books about each. What makes mine different? Well, probably nothing, actually. But I believe in the type of leader I am. I've lived how to put a community together. Sideways Leadership empowers shareholders and moves the entire community foward. People aren't asked to follow a leader in some top down arrangement, but rather are asked to look at the vision and take hold of it and share in it. Sideways leadership empowers people. And thereby moves the community forward. But more later.

Events in a randomly assorting universe....

I was never a success. At anything. Until I was given a chance to start a school. I'm four hard years into it. Tomorrow I have to convince someone to resign because teaching isn't the job for her and my kids aren't learning anything in her class. So she has to be counseled out. I don't like it. But I don't like my kids not learning more. It's my job.
But like I said. I wasn't a success at much of anything. I worked two jobs. Didn't take vacation. I worked corporate. Failed. Left to open my own store. Had it for 8 years. Closed it in the dead of night. Drove a limo. A failure. But through it all, I believed. I believed I had something within me. Situations and events may assort randomly, but I knew somewhere, if I just kept working, I'd get a shot. My marriage collapsed. I had to find out how to be a dad to daughters I now only saw on weekends. Sometimes.
And then I found teaching. And each year energized me to a new year of stories. And histories. And problems. And I found my calling. I realized this week that I've been at this for 18 years. Amazing. It seems like yesterday. Through it, I got divorced, met the love of my life, had that fail, watched my daughters grow into these amazing women, and was convinced, reluctantly, to come out of the classroom. And then was asked to create a new school.
But the point of all this is that I believed. And learned to trust. Myself. I don't think about success or failure any more. I've chosen this life. It's mine. For better or worse. And although I never had success before this, I never considered myself afailure.

Vegas

I'm in Vegas. My sister lives here. This is my fourth trip in two years. My sister, to me, is one of those people who are in your life, who you just listen too and want to be around. So I grabbed a chance to visit with her. The other three trips had either of my daughters along. Which was kinda cool. But this time it's just her and I. It's a special time. I leave and she goes back to work so I want us to enjoy this time.
I love Vegas. Not so much much for the energy of the strip ----which is definitely amazing.....not for playing "pro or no?" with my sister and daughters in the casinos....not for the gambling.....but because of the mountains....I stand in her back yard .....and walk in a circle....and these spectacular views leap out at you.
I am gonna retire here. Just not in 3 years like I thought. I'm having so much fun at my school....and I want to develop certain staff.....that I realized I have to stay another 7 to 10 to get things the way I want.
That's ok. This is my job. The one that I want. The one I'm best suited for. The one I care most about. It's my calling.
Everything else will work out......in a randomly assorting universe....

The times as Dylan would say

In 2003, there was nothing here. Just an elementary school with a declining enrollment. And then some forces began to come together. A visionary with a thought to maximize building space, offer parents choice, creating choice orchestrated an opportunity. And I was in a kind of nether land. But she pointed at me and in 2004 I was asked to create a middle school. I remember calling someone I was involved with at midnight when I learned the news. I was a principal. A founder. Of a school yet to exist.
I had to build it.
I have been ever since. 4 Years. I am so proud of where we are. Well developed on our Quality Review. A staff I wouldn't trade for anyone's. People who are committed to what we try and do each day. Learning. How do we learn. How can we learn better. That's my building. That's my staff.
It's 2008. The building is thriving. Enrollment in both schools is up. I work as hard as I did then, now. But it has a point. The goal is unimportant. It's the process. Someone asked me yesterday how much time I have. I said ten years. It felt good. I'm doing what I enjoy most. Why leave?

outlook....

I used to think I had only a couple or three years left. I was feeling burned. But then I realized, that I am doing what I love doing. And have been since '90. I look forward to every year. I look forward to the mix I put together. Wondering if I've gotten it right. Working through it. It's hard to put into words where this job has taken me. From never wanting to come out of the classroom....to talking with teachers....to trying to build a community....to worrying about that community. It's been an interesting 18 years. But at no point have I heard the fat lady singing. In fact, the opposite is true. I've enjoyed each year more than the last. It's so important for me to open the door each morning and say "good morning" to my kids....and see them smile and say good morning back. I walk the streets at 7:55 every morning......whatever the weather.....in rain....or cold....I open the door and say good morning to my kids. And I feel whole. A teacher told me I needed a scarf and hat in the -11 degree temp today. I smiled. And didn't back away from being outside as I opened the door. These are my kids. Their faces are so tight.....protected against the elements....until that "good morning." Then they smile....and my day begins.

where choice is available

I'm middle-aged. It isn't bad. The knees take a bit longer to warm up in the morning. The wit is still there. So's the compassion. The looks left in my mid-twenties (or earlier depending on who you ask). I laugh with my daugthers frequently. And for different reasons with each of them. The passion for what I do still burns. The energy to live a life according to my principles still pervades who I am. What's that old phrase, "you can kill me but you can't eat me." I like that. I'm proud. Sometimes arrogant. Easy to talk too but hard to please. I'm ok with me.
When I was growing up I was a sports fanatic. Still am. I played baseball. But mostly basketball. It didn't matter the time of year. I played one on one after shoveling the court on Christmas day. Every year. The ball needed extra air because it was so cold. I stopped playing baseball. And never played football. Those were my father's sports. He was a Yankee and Giants fan. I was told I would be too. I was okay with that. I didn't much mind. Saying yes, and watching the occassional Giants or Notre Dame game was a small price to pay for being allowed free access to the basketball court. My father didn't like basketball. I could breathe on the court and define myself by what kind of teammate I was. I had days where in three on three, winner keeps playing, me and my friends never sat. The sweat of those Saturdays was honest. If I had to be a Yankee and Giant fan to have that I considered it a small price to pay.
My dad would have been happy today. I don't think he felt it was ok to be happy in the life he led. I disagreed with him there. His Giants won today. When no-one thought they would. He set his watch by baseball in the spring and football in the fall. I watched the whole game. At the end, I smiled. He's happy....somewhere. And that made me feel good.
Like I said, this blog isn't about much. Just a guy trying to find his way.

in a randomly assorting universe

I haven't been posting all that frequently. My attention has been directed towards other things. School. My daughters. My blog isn't really about anything.. My sister has the most amazing blog about stitching (and other things) that has developed into a community. I thoroughly enjoy reading it. My blog, however, is just about a guy's journey and trying to live according to some ideas. I also tend to write more when I'm bothered by things as a way of working them out. The last couple of months has been pretty good though. I'm kinda at peace with things in my life. So we'll see.