No Clue Who Elliott and Sabrina Are, and That is Not the Mr. Moonbeam I Remember from Brown, But I'll Go With It.

Crazy whirlwind yesterday, without actually leaving my writing couch on the porch. I met with district literacy coordinators, edited several pieces of POW, designed PD for upcoming workshops in local schools, and got ahead on next week's classes. 

While on district TEAMS meetings, I a truck pulled out front and these men started mowing and landscaping my yard. At first I thought I should make them stop, but then I began to think that it was next on my to-do list. I let them go. They did the back. They weed-whacked and they blew it all away. As they were driving off, I got a picture of the truck, called the company, and left a message that I came home as they were departing and I don't pay for lawn services. I would feel terrible if they got the wrong house, and the right house wasn't served. I also said, "I haven't surveyed the property yet for damage, but I'll be in touch if I find any."

It offered me an extra hour in my day of cutting the grass! 

I also read a post about how the Moonbeams/All Stars, Seniors/Kindergarten mentorship program is still going on and there were a number of shout-outs to me and Bonnie. I recently saw a photo of Bonnie and, with Wendell Berry's passing, wanted to get in touch. I called several numbers I found online and on the last one, I left a message when she jumped on and said, "It's me! It's me!" We spent two hours catching up, and she told me she has been without Internet, email, and all technology since she retired decades ago. She really hasn't kept up with anyone, found joy working on the farm she built upon retirement, and loves working for the Berry Foundation (although the passing has added new layers). Trust me, Bryan. Everyone I work with gets frustrated that I don't text, use email, or know what any of the online world is.

It's definitely been over 25 years since we worked together, and we talked about shared students, our times in Denmark, her move to the farm and my times out there. She wondered where I went after Brown and I caught her up on that. 

Bonnie Cecil was simply phenomenal as an educator. I loved her as a mentor and an individual. It was absolutely surreal to talk with the All Stars Diva again and to remember the Mr. Moonbeam days. One of my most cherished stories as a teacher came from our time where we united seniors and those just entering school for yearlong buddy-ship. I was humbled to see it's still going on today, 20 years since I left the Brown. 

I also spent the evening with Emmi and Max, prepping for a conference presentation, and checking in on their year as teachers. I wish I could say this weekend was designed for distractions, but I have to be in ram mode until the work gets done and it's not my nature to fall behind. I need to be self-disciplined and strategic to stay afloat this Fall. 

It Will Only Be Temporary, Karal. Not Quite Sure What It Was, But It's Being Treated. Seems to Be a Symbol of Life Right Now

About a week ago, I felt these tiny bumps on Karal's head. Just a couple. I think I picked one, thinking it was a baby tick. A couple days later, more appeared and then her fur was sticking up in places and she wouldn't let me get near her head. I bathed her. I tried remedies from online. I simply thought she may have been infested with tick nymphs. Then I thought, maybe she got into a ground bee nest (but there was no swelling). There's a theory of beach mites which are hatching now. Stephanie, the doctor, thought maybe it could be thorn bushes. 

No clue. There were several bloody, infected spots on her head that needed to be cleaned. She's on antibiotics, we have creams, and we have ointments. There were many in her ear, too, so we're on an ear treatment, as well. Yes, all the great things that dog owners love to do for their furry pets, because they are so receptive. 

"I'm sorry...I had to shave her."

It's all good. As Tanya Baker said, "She looks bad ass." 

That was how my day started, and in the afternoon I was informed that my father is firing me from shaving him because his home, health-care aide does a better job. Apparently they bought razors from this century and aren't the old ones I could find in the bathroom. 

I wish I could say I was productive, but I only scraped moving parts of things needing to be done. This morning is meeting with district leaders, and my lawn really needs to be mowed again. 

Ah, but last night...Christina Cantrill started a prompt with "I love the courage of....", a line from Wendell Berry, and prompted to begin a conversation to draft from his words. I wrote for him.

And it's Friday. Weekends are for getting the real work done. 

For Wendell Berry

I love his courage,

the way he gently 

crossed my path, 

staff in hand, looking

at me by a Sycamore,

with children at my feet

writing in notebooks,

before making 

pillars of poetry

for the Earth

& tackling

the wild

beasts we are.

 

English is environmental.

Ecologically,

a watershed,

of its own.

 

Bluegrass

waving

in humid winds.

A kingfisher

hunting mossy creeks.

 

I guess 

I’ll be picking 

these berries 

for the 

rest of

my life. 

Choosing Joy is an Act of Rebellion. Choosing Happiness is a Mindset. Choosing Excellence is a Life Skill

Joy. Happiness. Excellence. A choice in rebelling. 

"I refuse to join any club that would have me as a member," often attributed to Groucho Marx, has also been a mantra I've upheld in my professional life. I have eyes skeptical to optics, narratives, and positioning, especially in the perceived notions of power. I know I need a better work/life balance, but it's not my nature, so I choose to find joy in the work that I do.

This includes sending photos during faculty meetings to colleagues from other schools who I am genuinely excited to see (because I admire them). My Tuesday research class held a theme of close-up nature photos, so I tried one of my head. That's what the colleagues got yesterday. 

I was also in conversation with coaches of the Women's Volleyball team which led to talk on generational changes, Covid, the vastness/quickness of AI, and the rampant truth/non-truth that has become invasive in all our lives. They triggered my thinking on leadership, and how leading comes in multiple ways, including kindness to others (and random acts), acting in ways that are better than words, and ram-horns down, full charge ahead, philosophies of making things happen and getting the work done.

I enjoyed little league baseball, but was never one for organized sport for myself, especially when I learned I could work, instead, and make money. I did pick up running, though, as it cleared my mind, fought my genetics, and was genuinely good for me until the body gave out and I had to resort to walking. I spent last weekend watching games at all levels and started thinking about what it takes to be a student athlete, but also what it takes for student athletes to also be leaders. In a faculty liaison role, I see my job as supporting the coaches and team leaders with little things...simply to say we're all in this life/competition thing together.  

I survived two faculty meetings, the insanity of another year, a computer exchange (which is a whole other story), and a social gathering, all with a pretense of grace, hope, and possibility. My gut said, "Why bother," but then I realized that my actions do matter and not being present would be part of the problem. Leading means listening to others, so I can better lead in the communities I inhabit.

Karal's going to the vet this morning, I'm meeting with students, and I have National Writing Project connectivity in the evening. My eyes are focused upon what needs to get done, and I'm trying to package all frustrations and resentments to the side. 

The Morning Glories Were in Full Bloom When I Left for Campus (First Day). It Was Pitch Black When I Returned Home at 10 p.m.. And We're Off.

I told the students that the light that accompanied our classes last night would soon be leaving us and eventually we'll be doing the work in the evening, after the sun sets. I have back-to-back courses, and I planned on switching the later class to online after the first night, but learned that the majority of students have a class right before mine, so transitioning home might be a problem. Ah, but some commute over an hour and I'm thinking about how late they'll get home, only to have to be in school in the early hours. I need to think of a game plan that accommodates all. I know what I'm doing, and I'm sure I'll get everyone to where they need to be, but I need to rethink instruction for how it will have the biggest punch. 

Never a dull moment. Never the same thing twice, as our school is constantly changing course requirements, the way students go through the program, and the interactions with local schools. All I can say is that being a pre-service teacher in the certification year (with student teaching) is a lot. Of course, the research course also has veteran teachers. It is something to teach. 

My first day back started out miserably, as a Write Time recording was finalized for the very night where I teach back-to-back. I wrote down October 8th, not September 8th. This was my bad and so that all had to be rearranged. 

Of course, the hallways were bustling with colleagues who haven't been in since May, and all I can think about is how I'm still trying to finish the work of the literacy labs in POW!. I need to get on that, but there have not been any moments to achieve this. It's been go-go-go with all the other work required: grants, course planning, meetings, and writing projects.

Most of the students I have this semester I've had before, so that saved much of the team building because most know each other. The few new people were probably like, "Who is this crazy man?"

Today, it's back to back to back to back meetings and I won't have much time to do the work that I'm scheduled to get done. Such is the crazy way education works in this world. 

I did enjoy the purple blooms, though, and walked Karal for an hour before I took off. I needed the mental space as it all can be overwhelming. Dinner at 10 p.m. to, however, is an adjustment I need to fix. Perhaps skipping lunch and eating hefty at 4 p.m. is the way to resolve this. Only time will tell. I was impressed by the students who had packed dinners citing the truth that all their meals are on the road this semester. That is true...and I'm thinking about my own student teaching and the methods that came before it all. The one thing there never is enough time for is space and time. I remember Kathy Hinchman said this to me at Syracuse when she said, "Read everything now. You'll never have this privilege again when you are running the work at the University." 

Truth. 

It is what it is and onward I must go. Hello, Meetings. How are you?

Labor Day is Over (Guess What? I Labored) and Today is the First Day of a New Semester Where I'll Labore Even More. Phew. It Hits You Sometimes

First of all, I am good about getting my parking pass. As soon as announcements are out, I order, because I don't want to deal with the student and their lines. Last night, I went to put the sticker on, with my 2026-2027 Beach Pass, and I can't find the Fairfield one. Why? Because I brought several months of mail to Edem and I believe my parking pass was handed to him in his pile. That was my bad, as I've been driving with my parking pass for a month, fully intending to put it on my car. Now I believe it is with him (if he didn't throw it out). 

Hell. Roads. Pavement. Good intentions. 

This meme came across my digital communities yesterday and I started to think about it...it's so accurate. More cruel is all of us who start post Labor Day, who end up laboring all day for the labor needed on the first day. And yes, this is laborious preparation only to reach the classroom to labor, followed by more labor of grading, assessing, reflections, and planning more. This might be the very reason why so many people don't go into education and even more the reason why so many walk away. 

The work never ends. Truth. This is my 30th year teaching, 29th in schools after year as a Louisville Writing Project educator. It's my 49th year in school, having entered kindergarten in 1977. I was five. 50 years later I'm going to be 55. I think the retirement plan is to last another decade, but knowing all my colleagues have retired, I'm not sure how I will hang on. I have to, but it seems like a very long haul.

My syllabus seems to be in check...the classes are mostly organized, and I think I'm ready for back to back instruction today. I won't get home until late and laugh -- tomorrow, the calendar is back-to-back meetings from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. (so much for processing the classes taught the night before). I'm exhausted before I even being knowing I'm a good month behind on CWP-Fairfield goals (and then there are the reports due next week that I doubt I will get to).

Yep, it's back. Maybe the university will tow my car away because I've lost the parking pass. Who knows?  All I know is that my enthusiasm isn't what it used to be and it's probably because I'm exhausted even before any of it begins.  

I need to be patient with myself and forgiving. I know all the abuse still to come and that is is par for the course. But thinking about Labor Day, and the meme above, I got a little more cynical. Teaching in higher education is slow-motion compared to K-12, but doing/working in both is extra abusive.

And wiat that, it's time to get to work once again. 

A Long Overdue Reunion & a Noodler Performance at West Have Porch Fest. And Here I Thought I'd Just Grill

Louisville looked good again, beating Texas in 3. Fun Volleyball weekend, as Fairfield also won the Northeastern tournament. I knew I wanted to work until 2 pm and then join colleagues at Porch Fest, where several of our friends had an hour set. Edem and Zeevah came down from Waterbury to join us, but as I predicted, I was pulling out as he was arriving. "The parking is insane." It was. 

We ended up driving to Walnut Beach where she named everything she saw. Rico scared her with his bark, and she was napping when they pulled in. It took her a while to warm up, but as Edem said, "Oh, she's a talker." She has definitely become one since I last saw her. Some of the words are 100% understandable and then there is much language I think she's pulling from the sky. And she can laugh. Her smile and giggles would stop anyone in their place, asking them to join the joke. She loves her daddy, misses her twin Zuri, and wants her newborn little sister, Zaila, home with her...but they're still in Jamaica after Zuri knocks a pot of boiling water on his chest, shoulder, and back while visiting his grandmother. He has a 3-week hospitalization with 2nd degree burns. I think Edem was in need of company to process paternal care, as Zeevah stayed home with him. 

Zeevah's developing quickly (and the twins are so tall). She still doesn't have control of her elbows and biceps, nor her angles and feet. She wears braces, and can walk with assistance. She's come a long way since her 1.5 pound birth and 3-month hospital stay. And she's adorable...loves entertaining people. 

Beth rocked at Porch Fest as I knew she would and I laughed when she donned a blonde wig to sing some Dolly to close out their set. 

All this said, I didn't get home until around 8 p.m. and ate late, never grilling all that I prepped in the fridge early yesterday morning. I'm aiming to try again today, as it is Labor Day, and a 2nd Sunday has been restored. 

I should admit, too, that I watched Mandalorian & Grogu on Disney Saturday night and I'm a non-judgmental guy at times. I knew it was going to be cheesy and was prepared for it. I wanted the eye candy, effects, silliness, and trust that someone can actually take down those that deserve to have their power taken away. The tin-can character is a bit of a folk hero to me...and he sure gained many international fighting moves for the movie. He was a one-man revenger at all times (well, Grogu did his usual oh-look-a-new-power upgrade along the movie). Heir to Jabba the Hutt, Rotta was the surprise of the night. Who knew such character development could come from a Hutt. Interesting to see them delve into that world some more. I'm a Star Wars kid, so anything that comes out is entertaining for me. 

I feel a repeat of yesterday coming on for today (especially a BLT at lunch). I need to start hitting CWP summer work up hard, though, because I still don't have the support/assistance I need...not even a graduate student. I keep telling myself that what get's done is what can be done, but I still beat myself up for not accomplishing more, faster. 

It's all good. At least this Monday, is so not a Monday.

Wait. Weren't They Just In Their Twenties & Now They Have Rascally Toddlers Running Amok?

Syllabi. Silly Bry. Syllabi. Don't Know Why. Syllabi. Make Cry. But we're getting there.

I didn't want to end Saturday without feeling somewhat accomplished/planned on a new grant and with the dates set for the semester ahead so I can outline Padlet, ready the first class, organize what I must have with me, and at least attempt to enjoy what most people enjoy on the weekends. 

I went to a birthday party at a winery for Kaityn's 41st (I believe, anyways). It was the same location as last year, and the parental exhaustion remains the same: Dominik, Patrick, Kaitlyn, and Stephanie simply seem well-intentioned with a wonderful family gathering, but remain totally exhausted from the amount of energy it takes to chase toddlers. Pam had all the girls in the same dresses, and we tried so hard to harness all four kids in one location for a photo, for at least a second. Nope. Herding cats. As soon as three were still, the 4th ran off every time. Still, I did get a couple of good shots for their family. 

In this particular one, Ania (the youngest) was not having it and ran back to her parents. Although Maddie looked at the camera, Oliwia and Ethan were looking to run off to play with the other children at the winery. I was exhausted simply watching everyone trying to keep them somewhat nearby...they each have a mind of their own and legs that want to sprint elsewhere. Making sense of their choices, though, was a harder guess. I don't think it is healthy to rationalize much of it. 

It was great to be outside, with huge cumulus clouds covering the sun, but when that sun came out...Oof. It beat down hot. Still, it would go back under and the chilly winds would return....such is a Saturday in September. 

Today, I hope to repeat a similar pattern of chiseling away at grants and writing projects, while taking the afternoon off. I also want to cook, as I loaded my fridge with groceries on Friday after departing schools. 

Other than that, it was another day of volleyball. Phew. The Fairfield/Northeastern games were point for point for 5 matches. I couldn't watch online or on the telly, but could follow on a stats page that kept track of the action. Now, it's coffee and cereal time. The pace must continue. 

Here's to Special EATZ. For Some, It's Vietnamese in Louisville with Brown School Alumni & for this Guy, A Neighbor's Delivery

Every once in a while, when sitting on the front porch writing late on a Friday afternoon, a Brazilian neighbor visiting from NYC brings over what he's got cooking-up at his mother-in-law's old house. Still sad that my elderly neighbor passed on, but glad when her son and his partner come to town and I benefit from a bonus, unexpected meal. 

It was a day of visiting schools, mentoring junior faculty on dossiers, and putting CWP-Fairfield work into motion by visiting schools. The afternoon (and evening) was spent watching Louisville and Fairfield volleyball games on ESPN. I was glad to gift Chitunga and Sue the opportunity to watch others sweat in the hot temperatures of Kentucky. Louisville looked really good against TCU and I'm glad they enjoyed the game. Fairfield played strong, but didn't pull out the match against Harvard on their short Boston tour. 

I was also thrilled to see that they returned to Nam Huynh's Eatz for dinner, where they snapped a photo of their delighted tummies (you can tell from their smiles). I knew they were going to have an adventure early in the morning when Sue, walking Pilot, sent me a video while the kid, well adult, was still sleeping in like Dave. 

Today will be another day of seeing what can be accomplished from sunrise to sunset. The semester pace differs from the summer pace, because of all the complicated ways opportunities and classes attack the calendar. Early in the semester is hardest, because 13 weeks of instruction needs to be outlined, planned, and ready to go. Of course, all the CWP collaborations need to be laid out, too, and K-12 teachers are extremely busy with their own openings.

I still shake my head though, that all these years later Chitunga visits the 'Ville and has interactions with the world I once knew. My goal is to the Bluegrass one of these days to taste Nam's artistry in action. As a student, I never knew he had a particular interest in culinary creativity, but I've been hearing for years that his dishes are outstanding (and by the looks of the empty bowls and plates, I don't think much was left behind to cast into the garbage. 

Ah, now for Saturday. There are more volleyball games to watch and storms to keep an eye out for. I have fish to grill, key lime to bake, and linguini to boil. We'll see how much culinary craft I'll conduct on my own. 

Can't Help But Post Another Cosmos Bloom (As I Snapped It Before Kicking-Off a Semester with a Faculty Picnic)

It's been a minute since I bought beer, and even more since I bought several cases of it. I was asked to be the beer-purchaser for the Faculty Welfare picnic, as many of the elected faculty leadership team couldn't make this year's date. I realized upon the first case that I'd need a cart, grabbed one, returned, and began loading, only to be reprimanded by an employee, "Customers are not allowed in the cooler." 

Well, it was muggy again, there was a door, the beer I wanted wasn't in the cases, and I figured they'd have more in the back. I was right. I loaded my cart anyway, checked out, and left, returning the cart to where it belonged. 

The new hire crowd wasn't as big as usual, and because the event was held indoors this year, there wasn't as much a need to wet the whistle: Modelo gold & dark, New Castle (which went quickly), and Heineken. They would drink my favorite of the brands. I ended up bringing half of it home to store for the next event. 

God Bless Sonya Huber. She works tirelessly in all capacities and was the one that recruited me...always with respect for what Faculty want and need. We don't have a union to help us, but we do have this committee to advocate where we can. 

Although the day was supposed to storm, as usual the predictions were a bust. It was just humid and miserable. They went indoors because of the weather predictions, and I'm glad because we would have been drenched with sweat outside. 

I did notice a new bunch of cosmos bloomed as I was getting in my car to head to campus. I love these flowers....the way they firework in their blossoming. 

I'm happy with one of my syllabi and on the way with the other. I'm also glad it's Friday...a 3-day weekend, and that Chitunga is in Louisville with Sue & Dave.

And with that, I'm off to schools. 

Canine Monstrosities. The Temperatures Go Down & The Furry Ones Choose to Reclaim Their Authority of Nightly Sleep

My sleep is up and down, but definitely down when a dog decides to lay horizontally on a bed, pushing paws into one's back at night, forcing the human to hug the edge of the mattress before falling off.

In the summer months, Karal opts to keep herself downstairs, where I'm greeted in the morning for outside rendezvous before entering for her first meal. Nope. Not when the temps begin to drop. Then, she entirely chooses upstairs sleeping arrangements with scratching imaginary fleas and/or hosting nocturnal dreams with whimpers, barks, and running. This, of course, is up against my body as she hordes the space for her own comfort. Then, she joins me for coffee, where she falls back to sleep for several hours on the front-porch couch. 

We've entered the autumn rituals of her rest. And I don't get mine. I have to figure out a plan.

I worked on syllabi and CWP projects yesterday before walking Karal and joining Beth and Michell for dinner. Michelle is heading to Spain on two incredible opportunities, projects funded by varying sources, while Beth and I try to figure out a year without our courageous friend to process the shenanigans of higher education. There will be much adjustment to this process. 

Today is the Faculty Welfare Committee's faculty picnic and I was put in charge of coolers and beer. I hope they don't mind, but I'll likely get the beers that I enjoy most (and haven't sipped in many years, as I don't like the full-bladder ramifications of such hobby. With bourbon, the heft is lighter, although I haven't been drinking that, either. 

Karal looks little (is little) but not when she stretches out. Then she is long, and I'm longing for a good night's sleep. I have a very early national call this morning and am excited that I gifted joy to the Women's volleyball team that is heading to Boston for a game and a tournament. I wanted to send them off (faculty liaison) with a smile. 

I do love this time of year with the crickets and cicadas. The temperatures are wonderful, too. 

I had a great spinach and mushroom lasagna with a green spinach sauce for dinner, followed by chocolate cherry gelato. Pricey, but worth it. I did embellish with an Umberto Echo, cherry liqueur old fashion, too. Can't believe I stopped myself at one, because it was perfect. 

The garbage is out and the work piling up, so onward I go. Here's to the day.

Tapping My Environmental Education Days & Visited the Kellogg Center in Derby, Connecticut, to Witness Their Great Work

Earlier this year, I began investigating the incredible work I did in KY through KIESD and remembered being trained with the federal program Project WILD and Project Wet. I wondered if Connecticut had trained facilitators and learned of Susan Quincy of the Kellogg Environmental Center and reached out. Although there wasn't a free second in July/August to meet with her, I found time yesterday morning, ironically the day after the passing of Wendell Berry, Kentucky poet, who I've used to springboard many projects throughout the year. 

The facility was nice and only 9 miles from my house. It is a great, spacious center with incredible leadership by Susan who works with teachers and youth in the same I do. I pitched an idea about possible collaborations and partnerships, of which she was commendable. We talked about Write Out '26  and planned out possibilities between her network and that of CWP. We shall see what might come of it, as I'm channeling the great work of Reading Landscapes & Writing Nature with Weir Farm National Historical Park and the last two years of collaboration with the Center of Climate, Coastal, and Marine Studies on campus. Fingers crossed that we might pull something off. 

There were downpours in CT in the morning, and I didn't know if I'd make it, more comfortable on my front porch doing digital work, then going out-of-home in search of an adventure. I'm glad I did, because now the cogs in my aging brain began working...always in support of teachers and definitely in support of youth. 

I also began thinking of Wendell Berry's influence on my fledgling brain and the project I did in Kentucky while student teaching through KIESD and the Louisville Writing Project. At the time, I was working on a 2nd Masters Thesis where his writing was central to my pitch for ecological literacy (of course, enthralled by the writing of David Orr at Oberlin College). Pulling books off the shelf, I came across one poem, Thirty More Years, and I couldn't help but think that it was 30 years ago when I did the Pillar of Poetry in connection with Earth Day at the Louisville Zoo. My 10th grade students at the time were instrumental to the work, and I put together an anthology of their writing with the grant money. I even received an award from the City of Louisville because of the work. 

One of my intern jobs was to design the Beargrass Creek road signs that are throughout the Louisville watershed and I was gifted one of those road signs as a gift when I left the Nature Center and took a full-time job at Brown. 

I'm always channeling my childhood along lakes of CNY and the St. Lawrence River, always thankful for having an informal introduction to outdoor education, simply because I had relatives who lived along water. Our words can never capture the beauty of the outdoors (as we know with Whitman and others, we can try to figure out the humanity alongside it. 

I will always cherish my collection of Berry poems and will continue to live life with a node in his direction. 30 years ago, I was doing similar work and I'm thankful to still be able to do it today.

Always Love Having the Opportunity to Meet a New Crop of Student Leaders & To Orient Them with Classroom Possibilities

Perhaps the mark of a veteran teacher is when you have two hours of material plan, but only get to 1/2 of it, because the interaction is going so well. 

For the 4th year, I've been asked to bring my National Writing Project training to help orient upperclassmen who will be teaching first-years as they are oriented to campus. There's a lot of logistics to the two-day (and more) training, but I'm only given the task to inspire ideas for them to think about, which gives me opportunity to list out what I hope they'd remember, while modeling what it can look like in action. I think the take away each year is how much fun it can be to teach others and how student-engaged interaction helps time to fly by. A part of me wants to rush them along to get all the 'brilliance' prepared for the lessons, but then I realize that letting them ride with enjoyment and interact with the point being made goes so much further.

I always appreciate how so many stay behind asking questions about what classes I teach in and in what department, because they "really enjoyed the style" I presented to them, and I think they run away screaming when I say that I'm in the School of Education and Human Development. "Oh, no. My parents would never allow me to become a teacher." 

Still, they are teaching as future engineers, doctors, accountants, nurses, sales people, chemists, and computer scientists. They simply don't have to deal with the K-12 bureaucracy and mistreatment of being a teacher in the United States. They're run to the hills always reminds me how scary it is to commit to a life in education, especially in a culture that values zip codes and material goods over knowledge. 

Oh, son. You can read, write, and think on your own time. You'll need to make money to live in this nation. 

I was a little embarrassed though, because at the last minute I through in five corny college jokes to get the crowd going and there were two horribly spelled words that arrived as typos (because they were last minute). It was good, though, because I was able to give myself a B- at the beginning of the presentation, and relax the rest of the way to enjoy my imperfections with them. 

What did the Buffalo say when his son left for college? (Bison)

Why did the sun skip college? (It already has 10,000 degrees)

Why do zits make horrible prisoners? (Because they always break out)

Why did the music note drop out of college? (It couldn't pick a major)

What do you get when you cross an extra-terrestrial with a Fairfield student? (Stag Universe-ity)

Bad jokes work every time, especially when you're a total dork. I also found homes for the remaining golden crowns from the MLK Youth Leadership Academy last year. I made them speak to one another as if they were British royalty in one dialogue exercise. Poof. They're gone and now out of my office. One less thing to figure out what to do with.

Well, hello, September. Nice to see you again.