22-Day Revolution, pt. II: The Flu

On the first day of the 22-Day Revolution, I got the flu.  It's going around the city I live in.  Most of my family got it during the holidays; I thought I'd avoided it, but it got me the last Sunday of the holiday break.  

And, maybe it was a good thing.  I'm not sure about everyone, but when I'm sick I have a hard time eating.  I had some water.  Maybe a smoothie.  It lasted about two days.  I made sure to only consume plant-based things, and when I felt better and weighed myself: surprise.  I was down three pounds.  

That was a nice little moral victory.  A start.  

My wife is doing the 22-Day Revolution with me and she also got the flu.  She also lost weight.

I mention this, for more than any other reason, to say that my updates were temporarily thwarted by the flu.  Tomorrow, the first real update will come, but days 1-5 were impacted by illness and loss of appetite.  

But they also had some weight loss.

Day 1. One Man's Story of the 22-Day Revolution.

So I need to make a change in how I eat, in order to make a change in how I feel.  I’ve always been an exerciser, always played sports, and have been in pretty good shape all my life.  

I’m 35.  I’ve been actively running since I was 17.  From the time I was 17, up until I was 33 or 34 (sans a few injuries), there wasn’t a day I couldn’t run 3 miles.  For a good portion of that time, say 27-32, I could run 5 miles at a 7:30 mile pace at any given time.  It wasn’t uncommon for me to play basketball in the morning, go for a long run in the afternoon, and also bike 10 miles in a day.

It was great.  

But I took it for granted.  

During those years, I sort of assumed I’d always be in shape.  I thought that if you ran and kept slightly active, that you could get away with some things.  So I ate and drank too much.  

At the age of 33, maybe 34, things took a downturn for me professionally.  I’m a highschool teacher, have been for over a decade, and have always been fine-to-good at it.  The better I’ve gotten at my job, the harder of a time I’ve had keeping quiet about schools and what is wrong with them.  Public schools are a governmental institution that provide important skills and knowledge that kids in this country need.  Many of them - unfortunately the ones in areas that need it most - are poorly run, use governmental funds badly, and do not fulfill their promise to educate.  Too often, they go largely unchecked by anyone.  There isn’t a top-down balance.  There isn’t real accountability.  Numbers are easy to fudge, so we do and count extremely minimal gains as ‘progress’, lieing to taxpayers by saying we’re doing good.  Things can be changed, but it means taking an honest look at what is wrong, admitting those things are wrong, and then changing them.  It means starting slowly, accurately, and doing something about the things that are wrong.  It means having talented people, that are willing to take some heat, willing to be honest, and willing to make a difference.  Unfortunately, those types of people do not get promoted where I work.  For us, they get silenced.  I have a hard time staying silent, but this isn’t the spot for that.

What did happen was that when I was 33/34, in the middle of what (in hindsight) was a top-three teaching year, things started going terribly.  I was in a school that had no discipline.  It was also a place where kids were told they were extremely smart and going to college.  They expected to get scholarships and things like that, but were never taught that to get those things, they had to give, had to work hard.  So kids would lay on the floor in class, sleeping, yet think they’d go to a good school.  They’d say there was no need to edit a paper, because they already wrote it once.  They’d argue that there wasn’t need for a thesis or explanation, because they could say all they needed to be said in a single paragraph.  And when they got low grades, they complained.  

Which is the problem with grades.  

Grades are arbitrary.  Grades can be given by a teacher.  They basically show who’s done what in class.  That’s why we have standardized tests.  The students at this school did quite badly on standardized tests, and I was showing - through those scores - that I was teaching them some of the things they were lacking.  Yet, because I mentioned that they were lacking, that the scores were low, I was displaced from that school.  On my evaluation, which is just as arbitrary as grades because it’s one person’s opinion of what they see and doesn’t have to be backed by real evidence, I was labelled a minimally effective instructor.  Which meant they could move me.  This went directly against the data I’d collected from third party sources, but it went against me nonetheless.  

I mention this, though, because in reflection, this affected me much more than I ever thought.  It took a toll on my body.  I felt stressed.  Tired.  My body felt this.  When I’d go to work out, I was sore.  I had trouble sleeping, which meant I felt groggy.  Feeling groggy, my workouts got worse.  Worse workouts meant less calorie burning and natural endorphins, which meant that I turned to food and drink for pleasure.  Which made working out even harder.  

I weigh myself fairly often.  During that time I did so less, but one day discovered that I’d put on fifteen pounds in about three weeks.  Which made working out even harder.  

I don’t feel the need to expound on this cycle, because it explains itself.  The next year, I was moved, but this time with bias.  It was even said by the next principal that ‘I’ve heard some things’ and ‘it’s my job to know’, implying negative when this person never once observed a class.  It was an even more stressful year.  

The cycle continued.  

I only ever noticed this correlation when I thought long and hard about how I eat and drink.  Viewing my consumptive trends, it made sense.  This first started when family members referred to ‘summer Tom’ and ‘school year Tom’.  The fact that there are two different Toms sucks.  When my wife and sister both mentioned that they like ‘summer Tom’ better than ‘school year Tom’, I knew I had to make some changes.  

I’ve tried fad diets, typically South Beach, and meet those with success.  But it fades.  I’ll do P90X, or sign up for a long run, and have results that don’t stick.  I’d lose 20lbs, but then things would happen, and end up fatter than I was before.  In this state, I heard about the 22-day revolution.

My brother told me about the diet, which I think he’d seen after Jay Z and Beyonce did it, which, of course, got it national attention.  

The diet is plant based, and the author advocates for plant based eating.  Summing it up: Americans eat too much.  We believe the only way to get our food is through meat, but we can gain a lot more energy and health through plants, which come naturally from the earth.  Like, if animals eat plants for their proteins, and we eat animals for ours, why not cut out the middle man and eat the plants?

Before starting (and then delaying even further), I read the book.  I wanted to know what I was getting myself into and make an entire shopping list to have things on hand and ready.  The stories in the book make sense.  But so did eating plants.  

Reading the book was when I made the connections between my habits and my health.  While the job has been going bad: eating and drinking more, working out less, feeling worse.  Eating and drinking more because I was using food/drink to cope with a hard day.  Thus, my consumption was making me existence a little harder than it should.  In turn, I’d feel worse, sleep worse, and the cycle continues.  

It isn’t only food, though.  It’s also exercise, and the ‘Revolution’ calls for working out.  Odd days are cardio, even days are lifting.  

I’ve taken some measurements before I begin, will take some pictures along the way, and keep you updated on my progress.  

TPA

This post is a direct shout out to the Tampa International Airport, TPA.  

A theme you'll notice in posts from me is: systems.  I think conceptually, which plays out in the real world as systems.  Systems make up society, and our daily lives are governed by systems.  Systems of school, systems of government.  Things start with a concept, that concept is broken down into processes, those processes are given definition, and that definition plays out in reality. 

Systems are obviously good.  They are necessary.  Some synonyms of system are: routine, procedure, method, process.  Most people appreciate a routine, and knowing what they're going into.  Order is a good thing.  Order results from following a system.

On personality tests, I've scored highly in understanding concepts.  This is good for me in many ways.  I can process big things and pick up on overall themes early on; it's problematic in two ways.  One, I'm terrible with facts.  Two, when systems don't work, I cannot handle it well at all.  This benefits me in teaching writing.  I can pick up an individual's voice very early on, which makes it much easier to hone their tone.  It hurts me in the realms of History and Science where names and eras are all labeled to a proverbial T.    

One of my least favorite things that people say it "that's just the way it is".  Or, "what can you do?"  Well, the answer is: fix it.  It's made me terribly frustrated at my job, where the people in charge of the system don't have a good grasp on systematic thinking, we're rather a very loosely joined fragment of function.  

But this is all a tangent.

I want to give some credit where credit is due, and that credit goes to the Tampa International Airport (TPA).  

My wife and I were at a family wedding this weekend, and flew through Tampa.  It is the most well run airport I've experienced.  They are very efficient in how they work, and are a shining example of how to do things well with a structural shift.  Typically, you check in, get a boarding pass, go through security, find your gate.  Often, you meet long lines composed of all the other travelers making their way into the all the terminals before their respective planes.  This is not the case in Tampa.  

TPA has a different, much more efficient process, or system.  At TPA, you get your boarding pass, then find your terminal, A-F.  Each of these terminals has a security checkpoint, with a guard checking boarding passes.  Once your pass is checked, you ride a train to the gates of your specific airline.  Once there, you go through security. 

This means you're only waiting in line with the people you're directly flying with.  It was fast, and it was smooth.  My wife and I both were quite impressed.  The little things that we'd come to associate with annoyances of travel didn't exist in TPA.  Credit where credit's due: a system that runs smoothly.  A process atypical from the others that runs smoother.  

Well done Tampa, well done.  

Porn Stache

I've participated in MoVember for the past several years.  Although I'm not a part of it this year, I wanted to post this little story from a few years back:

I work at a high school where whatever I wear, whatever day, gets commented on.  The first comment this MoVember was a random kid walking down the hall, taunting, "Halloween is over!", followed quickly by a "Shave that ugly off your face".  Coworkers have been asking if I'm French,  or re-introducing themselves to me. 

Today, I brought coffee to a coworker.  To deliver the coffee, I had to walk into her class. As I walked to the front of the room, it started.  "Nice stache!" said an unnamed kid into his slightly cuffed palm.  "Thank you," said my colleague.  As I'm about to exit the room, one student's goodbye(?) was to yell, "Haaah, check out that Porn Star Stache."

The class erupted.  I went on my way.  

#Movember

A Rock that God Can't Lift

"So, if God can do anything, can God create a rock so big that he can't lift it?" 

This is the type of question you'll hear in Bible class, one of the seven daily classes at Christian School.  Bible, depending on the teacher, is either the best or the worst of the classes.  With a good teacher that embraces questions, looks at the text as it is, and is comfortable in the gray, Bible is awesome.  There are verses that tell people not to have sex with animals, verses that give hilarious anotomical metaphors, like boobs to deer.  There are stories of great scandal, like the fact that the most famous king (David) saw a woman naked, had sex with her, and killed her husband.  And then, the same woman becomes the mom of the second most famous king (Solomon).  Reading some of these stories can make you horny, sitting in church or chapel, bored by the speaker but engaged with the text.  Like: most other people I know that went to Christian Schools had some type of hotness ranking system that included: Ester, Bathsheba, Jezebel, and Delilah in some order in the top five.  Woman that guys would kill for, you know had to be hot.  

These situations and rankings is where our minds would roam quite often, when we had the worse of the types of Bible teachers, the types that think the stories in the Bible were written for a modern American audience.  They think the book of Revelation is about the end times, coming soon; they think Paul's letters were written to the modern church; they think Genesis 1 is a description of creation, and that you can take a few lines of scripture and apply them to any setting.  (I'd like to make a quick disclaimer and say that I don't necessicarily disagree, and think Revelations is fascinating and that humans are way worse at science than we think.  So I'm not bashing the points of view, but they're funny.  Especially when the holders of the view don't study science, and can't point to any evidence other than that 'they know').  

The biggest problem with these types of teachers is that they're typically not too smart, but are assigned with the task of teaching the biggest of life's questions.  The Bible deals with life as it is and was through an extended period of history, like 2000 BCE - 100 CE.  That's a long time.  That's an expansive collection of life, love, history, thought.  It shows an evolution of thinking and being and processing.  The Bible, basically, grows.  This provides fascinating material for a teacher.  Yet, the worst of Bible teachers have only one answer: God.  And you can't really argue against that (especially within the context).

The Bible itself doesn't worry about being unable to give a context.  Entire people live and die screaming for justice that never comes.  They want things to change, but things remain the same.  They die in chains and poverty.  They sacrifice their kids.  They get hung on crosses.  The person at the center of the story, Jesus, died.  There was a point where if you were living during these times: God was dead.  

Pause.  

Think of that.  

God.  

Was.  

Dead.  

That's major and would toatlly mess wiht who you are on any level.  Jesus, the person you base your entire existance on, died.  

We know that he also rose again, we celebrate this, we believe he was and is The Messiah, and that all is now changed because of Jesus, but if you were alive during that time, he died.  That's heavy.  As is the task of being asked to kill your son, move from your family, leave everything you know.  But these are all things people were asked by God to do.

I like The Bible because it offers truth that isn't permanent, and speaks to you differently at different ages of your life.  I heard an analogy to an oven.  You tell a little kid not to touch the stove, maybe even that it's bad; it's only bad because it's hot and the kid could burn themself.  However, as the kid grows, learns, and understand, the stove becomes a valuable tool that provides life and joy.  The stove didn't change, the kid's understanding of the stove did.  

Embracing fuller understandings of science, God, life and The Bible provides a fuller life.  It allows you to sit in periods of hardness, complain when something sucks, cry when something's sad, and act when something is unjust.  It also allows you to express joy fully, to embrace life fully as the gift that it is, rather than attempt to find the limits of God.  

In those bad teacher's classes, questions like the one about the rock came up.  As did hilarious prayer requests.  One well meaning, yet bad Bible teacher I worked with took any prayer request.  Her beliefs were such that if a kid asked for prayer, she'd pray for it.  That's what she was taught to do, and that's what God wanted.  So the kids came up with schemes.  Prayer requests took up half the class period.  "Could you please pray that I get a B on this test, even though I didn't study", "could you please pray for this class to get better", or "could you please pray that I get an A in the class I'm failing without having to do any work" were all fair game.  They were hilarious, leaving the teacher caught in the crosshairs of the quandary: ignore their request or pray for these things to happen.  

It left her stuck, basically looking only at this planet our governing laws of science (mass and gravity), rather than the vastness of the Creator of All.  

Rather than a clear, singular ending, I'm left with two thoughts: the first is that there is such a thing as a stupid question, the second that if we tap into the realm of wonder and awe, we never have to ask a question like that again.   

I am Jim Gordon

The show, Gotham (on Fox) is a take on the story of Batman, beginning with the death of Thomas and Martha Wayne.  Season one focuses on the reign of Falcone, and looks at the origin of many pivotal players in the Batman stories, Bruce Wayne and Jim Gordon among them.  

When Jim entered the GHPD, he was the son of a well-respected former Gotham prosecutor.  When asked why he didn’t follow his father’s path to the law, Jim says something along the lines of how his desire is to enforce the law physically, rather than through the courts.    

Jim is one of the few (maybe only) ‘by the books’ cops.  ‘By the books’ refers to someone that enforces the letter of the law to all people of Gotham.  Whereas to other cops, all means ‘street people’, to Jim: all means all.  

The difference in his definition of the word ‘all’ gets Jim in a lot of trouble.  People such as the mayor, Falcone, and other major players in the upper echelon of the Gotham crime scene were used to getting away with many things.  They were able to use the law, the police, and other parts of the city to their own advantage.  Until Jim.  
    There’s a scene where Jim arrests both Falcone and the Mayor, and in doing so turns the police force against him.  A few episodes later, the same Mayor (or maybe police chief - no charges or consequences were actually enforced against anyone) and Jim have a multi-layered altercation.  
    
In the altercation, a man is killed by hired assassins.  The murder weapon was the gun of Jim Gordon.  Jim had entered the guy’s apartment in search of the truth in Wayne murder, after vowing to Bruce Wayne that he’d catch the true killer.  The assassin knocked Jim out, took his gun, and killed the guy that owned the apartment.  
    
The problem was that Jim shouldn’t have ever entered the apartment.  The Wayne murder was a closed case.  A suspect had already been found guilty.  Problem solved...or so it seemed.  The issue was that the solving of the crime was done at the surface level, to satisfy the public.  The truth that someone had intentionally committed the murder, that that person was still on the loose, and that the higher ups in the city were covering that up didn’t sit well with Jim.  This meant, going behind his boss, his partner, and the status quo to get to the bottom of the case. 
    When Jim entered the apartment - without permission or authority - shit hit the fan.  Jim talks to the apartment owner, discovers that his intuition is correct and there’s much more to the case than first appeared.  He’s on to something, and then assassins show up.  One overtakes him, knocks him out, takes his gun, kills the guy, and flees the scene.  A few hours later, Gordon wakes up in the apartment alone.  He discovers the owner of the apartment dead and sees his gun on the floor.  Jim knows this is a problem, but - like the man of the law he is - calls it in anyway.  In the aftermath, he finds himself face to face with the mayor, this time on the receiving end of the bureaucratic backlash.  
    The mayor uses the upper hand to make a public statement.  In his statement, he claims the apartment owner overtook Gordon, grabbed his gun, and committed suicide.  This further isolates Jim. 

Jim finds himself doubly fucked.  Not only is it affirmed that his intuition about the Wayne murders is beyond correct, the cover up goes as high as the mayor.  
    Another problem: Jim’s desire to do good and make change rises; he realizes it’s even more important than he originally thought, but he has even less ability to do something about it than he did before.  
    By taking the risks to do something, by speaking out against the system, by attempting to right wrongs and help those that truly need it - thereby giving a voice to the voiceless - Jim is punished.  He’s sent to Arkum Prison to watch over the insane.  His talents thrown into the prison.  He’s encouraged to resign.  Attempted to be pushed out.  They take Jim and try to make a public mockery out of him.  
    But he refuses to play dead.  He refuses to give up.  He refuses to move or take the easy road. 
    He decides to fight.
    I am Jim Gordon.  

The Hymnal

If you grow up in a church, you sing songs.  If you grow up Christian Reformed, they come from a hymnal, and that hymnal is loved.  People will go to great lengths to defend the hymnal.  Many CRC churches have a little plague that has slots for numbers, and each week the numbers are rotated; the numbers signify the page in the book that will be each week's hymns.  

I would often page through to the numbers, looking forward to the hymn we'd sing each week.  Some of the best songs - and words - sung and written are found in those pages.  "Be Thou My Vision" and "Amazing Grace" being two that immediately come to mind.  

Songs we sing in our youth have power.  They can implant themes and words to turn to in dark times, perspectives through which to see the world.  They can provide prayers that work through adulthood.  If I sing I find myself in a dark place, and sing the words of "Amazing Grace", things tangibly improve.  But I also learned a really important lesson about reading through the pages of the hymnal.

At the elementary school I went to - Creston Christian, we'd have weekly assemblies, like a chapel, and we'd have mini-church services.  We'd sing a lot of (what I'd call the better) hymns.  When you sing these week after week, and go to a lot of assemblies, you memorize at least some of the words, but I'd often get stuck on verse two.  The books are laid out on pages that have sheet music accompanying the words.  On the left side of the first words were numbers, and but I never knew what they meant.  I read plenty of books, and in a book, (typically) the words go across from left to right, and then down a page; once you hit the bottom of a page, you begin at the top of the next, also in a left to right fashion.  

So I'd be sitting there, trying to sing, but after the first line of a hymn, I'd be lost.  Everyone else would be reading something, but I'd be missing out.  I'd be signing the thing next to the next number (verse number) and be way off.  I'd only be on if I happened to know the song or the chorus.  

I remember being quite frustrated by this, especially because I like signing.  It was the only part of the service where we could be active, and as good little CRC kids, they were training us to sing from hymn books.  So I'd be lost.  

Until one day, when we were singing a song I knew (I believe it was the one that says 'I saw a tree by the river side').  I sang the first line, and then the words jumped out.  I noticed that rather than being right under the line we were singing, the words were under the next bar of music, and the next line of song was under the next bar and so on and so on.  When we hit the chorus, there was only one line and everyone sang it, and then you'd go back to the start of the first page, just under the title, when you wanted to sing the next verse.  

We finished the 'tree song', and moved on to the next one.  The same thing fit.  You sang one line and skipped to the next music thingy, and sang that.  The process repeated.  

I still remember the feeling of learning this.  I'd be so frustrated at each thing, but didn't have the words to even ask the question of how to read the book.  I knew how to read a book.  The thing I didn't know was that not all books are the same.  It might sound really basic, but I wanted to give someone a high five, and cheer together when I learned that.  There was a real sense of frustration before that day, and it was alleviated once I had new knowledge.  

But the thing is that I remember that day and that knowledge.  I think the reason is that it's so easy to assume that other people know the things that we do, or that they're supposed to know, or that we think they should know.  But they might not.  They may not even have the language to ask the proper questions to gain the necessary knowledge, so patience is key.  Once you know the information, it won't be unknown, and the pride in the knowledge overtakes and lasts much longer than the frustration did.  

Knowing how to read the hymnal allowed me to sing the second and third verses of some pretty amazing songs, things I was unable to do before I knew how to read the hymn book.  So maybe what I'm saying is that it's important to practice patience; it's important to ask the right questions or help people learn things that we assume they should know.  Perhaps doing so allows us to help, rather than judge, and allows others to partake in the beauty, rather than miss out in silent frustration.    

There is a Choice or There's a Choice in there Somewhere

Today I had three things happen that I'm going to consider major.  They are, in the order they happened:

1. An email

2. A reassignment

3. A business meeting

The first was from a woman I'm in a writing group with.  She's wise, talented, and encouraging.  I've been on a team with her for three years, and have admired her since day one.  Both she and her husband have a presence about them that is encouraging and soothing.  They have a marriage to aspire to, do cool things, and are great examples of how to live.  We had a meeting last night where we looked at things we'd written, and both of ours needed a bit of work.  So we pointed that out and gave a few ideas of where to go.  It's always so cool and rewarding to talk about writing, and when someone really reads what you've written and comments on it, that's a feeling that won't get old.  Today, she sent me a follow up email of encouragement.  It was basically that she is thankful for me and the group.  It was redemptive.  

The second was that I was reassigned.  Through an interesting series of bureaucratic happenings, my official teaching position this year is that of a sub.  I'm to call the human resources each day for an assignment, unless there's something longer than the day.  But I'm also a teacher.  So I have full pay and benefits, but I'm labelled a 'secondary sub'.  I've been in one school since the first day, but was assigned to another position for the foreseeable future beginning tomorrow.  It fits more in my talents, I know the principal and a few other teachers, and they say good things about the place.  But that didn't stop the very real sinking sensation that went through my body after the call.  I couldn't put my finger on it at first, but was able to name what was bothering me, and it is this: the same position that I will be in, I had an interview for a few months back.  I was 'required' to go the interview, think it went well, but never heard anything.  My assumption is that I didn't get the job.  So when I got the call to go there tomorrow, and probably the days after, the affect is like a sucker punch.  Like you're not good enough for the job, but you're okay to sub there.  There's a much better sentence in there somewhere, but the result is the same.  It was an insult.

The third thing was a business meeting.  It was set up because a guy approached me while I as at a coffee shop a week or so ago, said he'd overheard some of my conversation, and had an 'opportunity' that I may be interested in.  Whenever someone says 'opportunity', but doesn't say what the opportunity is, that's never a good sign.  But I went.  Why, you may be asking, would I go in spite of the aforementioned vagaries?  Well, the reason is that this summer, I prayed a prayer, asking God to provide me with an opportunity.  The truth is, I need a change.  I want to do something, rather than teach something.  I'd like to help people that need helping, and I really enjoy working with the disadvantaged.  I also like to write, to use my body, to be creative, and to work collaboratively.  If there was something that incorporated all of those things, I'd be the man for the job.  I've looked for many things, and applied for many things, but nothing seems to stick.  Most of the time, I don't even hear back.  So my prayer was that a door would open and somebody would say, I've got this opportunity that I think you would be good (or perfect) for".  So, when something along the lines of that prayer happened, I figured that I'd see what it was about.  The meeting was set for today, and I went.  A third person was brought in to the conversation, and it began with questions along the lines of 'do you want more money?'  Who doesn't.  So that was a bad sign.  And then, rather than mention the opportunity, they showed (by they, I mean the third person, not the guy who 'had' the 'opportunity') me statistics of the company.  When I asked what I'd do, they became silent and couldn't answer.  The company is a company that runs - what I found out - you don't refer to as a pyramid scheme.  When I asked to see an example of the products and what I'd be doing and what the websites they mentioned looked like, person 3 told person 2 not to show me, because I asked to many questions and 'took the offensive of the conversation'.  The point of the meeting, was to set up two more meetings.  When person three held his hand over person two's tablet, he looked at me and said, "We don't need you".  This, in addition to being bad business, did hit me kind of hard.  It was discouraging.

So I left with the meeting with the vague agreement to look into the product, which I had heard good things about, left.  On the way home, my body was responding in odd ways.  So I ran.  I went to yoga.  These activities took everything I had left.  But where I'm sitting now in the process is with the realization that in here is a choice.  I can look at discouragement, insult, or redemption.  The woman actually knows me, and she took time to be proactive, rather than reactive.  She took time to say something that I can live in and through.  And I realize that I now also have the choice as of where to dwell.  

Hard Knocks is Not Like Public Schools

I've seen two seasons of Hard Knocks.  I've worked for two public school systems.  What I can tell you is that Hard Knocks is nothing like public schools. 

Hard Knocks is a program about an NFL football team.  The featured team changes each season, but the coverage is the same.  A film crew follows the players and staff of an NFL team from the start of the preseason until final cuts.  Preseason begins with 90 players, but the final official roster only allows 53.  Hard Knocks is the journey of different players trying to make an NFL team.

Public Schools are educational facilities paid for by taxpayers.  All children between the ages of 5-16 are required to attend.  Public school spans the childhood of a person trying to earn a degree and become a productive person in the United States of America.  

Both Hard Knocks and Public Schools use data and statistics to track these journeys, and are judged upon the success of these numbers.  The most important number for an NFL team is Wins.  The most important number for a school district is graduation rate*.  You win a game of football by scoring more points than your opponent, within the allotted time.  You graduate from high school by earning at least a certain number of credits within a certain amount of years.  

Factors play into the numbers.   100% is not expected, nor is it realistic.  These numbers are dependent upon the quality of person in the program, the extent to which they're developed, the reception of the people to feedback, the work ethic toward improvement, the belief in the importance of the outcome, the passion for the task at hand, the tie-in of current situation to desire for real-life output, the competence of the ownership, the budget for improvement, the quality of feedback; throw these variables into a proverbial blender, mix 'em up, and you get some blend of success.

In anything performance based, much practice and effort goes on prior to performance: coaching, teaching, learning, studying, work, trial, effort, failure.  The results are what is shown through the numbers.  And up until the results, schools and sports teams have a lot in common.  It is once the final numbers are determined that they differ.

In football, a team cannot lie about its wins and losses.  The W/L column is a number that cannot be argued.  Sure, a call here or there can be debated, there may be something that didn't go your way; but it's final score that determines the win or loss, and that never has an asterisk**.  There is an acceptable amount of wins and loses.  No team expects to win every game.  Only one team has ever done that.  Though you don't expect to lose an individual game, and you enter each game as if you'll win it, fans and players all know they'll lose at some point.  The goal is a Win-Loss tally that gets you a chance for success.  

Each NFL team plays 16 games.  If you win 10 of those 16, you'll probably be in the playoffs.  If you win 11 or more, you're almost sure to be in.  If you lose more than half your games, your team was bad.  The fans aren't happy, and look to next year.  There are obvious exceptions.  If the team has won between 0-4 games for years, and then they win 8, that's a sign of progress.  If they win 6, and then win 9, that's a good sign.  It keeps the fan base looking forward to the next year, but it isn't good enough.  It is improvement, but everyone wants better.  They want 10 wins.  They want playoffs.  

Public schools offer 13 grade levels, K-12.  Each grade has standards that must be met for completion, and a certain level of knowledge is expect at each grade.  These grades are broken into levels; K-5 is considered Elementary School, 6-8 is considered Middle School, and 9-12 is considered High School***.  High School is the level when things like grades and credits start to matter.  In 9th grade, a student's individual performance begins to be computed and goes into their record.  (The things that matter are credits, attendance, grades, and standardized test scores.)  Graduation rate is determined by the number of students that earn a diploma, divided by the number of students that were enrolled in the school.  To be fair, these numbers aren't quite as straight forward as a 16-game schedule.  The reason for this is that it depends on what numbers you count.  Do you count the number of freshman enrolled at a school, and compare that to what percent of those freshman graduated?  Do you take the number of seniors in the fall of a given school year, and then compare that number to the number of seniors graduating in the spring? It's tricky due to what you count****.  And what you count does matter, but it seems that our nationwide graduation rates are somewhere between 70-80%.  

Though schools and the NFL have many parallels in how they're run by statistics, they couldn't be more different in how they deal with them.  In Hard Knocks, the coaches sit with the data.  The look at the wins and losses, look at what goes in to each position on a roster, what person will bring what to the team.  For that 53-man roster, they think through all elements of each decision, because the difference between cutting this guy or that guy could be the difference between a W and an L.  All those little factors factor into the bigger factor of team play.  The coach, knowing this, does through a whole team analysis from top to bottom, which includes their own self and their coaches.  They know that if they don't do anything about deficiencies, they'll get fired, the fans will be upset.  But the element that is most obvious is that all fans can see when something isn't working.  If something isn't working, but a coach were to say it were, we'd all know they were wrong.  We'd consider it laughable.  Because they have the end result in mind, and because they know that every piece of work goes to that W-L, there is no need to lie.  The results speak for themselves.  If a coach, GM, or player were to speak to the press and say something along the lines of: we almost won a lot of games, or we were close a lot, or at least the eleven losses were by less than they were the year before, or but our defense was really good except for on deep coverage, they'd be laughed at.  It would be obvious to all that these statements were excuses.  No one would care.  The thought would be that the bottom line was not met, and therefore they'd be right to totally look at the system and see what they could fix.  That makes sense.  The goal is the W.  To have the W unattained, to have things left on the table, is unacceptable.  It means that something must be done.  

Many public schools, on the other hand, do not do this at all.  Rather, than looking at the bottom line, they look at improvement as the highest importance.  Improvement is considered the greatest of things.  Even if a district is way below the national average, or even if they're quite a way from where they should be, they pretend like minimal gains are major deals.  Like if they stay the same or go forward by a little bit, they've done a ton.    

If a school system was on Hard Knocks, they'd do it differently.  They'd use the bottom line to see growth that could be had, see areas that need improvement, and deal with them.  Using relevant numbers, they'd ask what could be done about them, rather than pretend everything that could be done is being done right now.   

Knowing that the end result is of the utmost importance to those involved, the numbers would be used to make top to bottom evaluations of the system, making sure the right people were in the right positions on the roster so that all involved could benefit.  This would enhance the process, and benefit everyone.  

*Debatable.  In football, Wins are the number, no doubt.  Test scores, attendance are both in competition within a school district, although it's hard to go against graduation rates.   

**You are especially aware of this if you're a Detroit Lions fan, where we seem to be close in every game, yet still find a way to lose.  

***This is a very general description, and differs by state and/or program.  But some type of systematic labeling will be in place.  

****An unfortunate reality is that there are a lot of kids enrolled in many public schools that either never come or come only a few times in a year*****.  (******)  Also, the way we count graduation rate is by a thing called The Adjusted Cohort Graduation Rate.  It attempts to take factors such as these into account.  More details of this can be found through basic googling of national educational sites.

*****These students should, obviously, not count against a school district.  This falls solely on the parents.  

******(One principal I worked under for a while began the school year by having an assembly for freshman.  In it, he'd tell them to look around, because half of them wouldn't be there in four years.  And this fifty percent number is mentioned constantly when you look at all high school aged people.)

Communal Goodness

When I was younger, I loved the movie The Butter Cream Gang.  It's about a group of kids from small town American that are in a 'gang' to do good.  If an old lady needs help carrying her groceries, they'll do it; if a single mom needs help raking her yard, they're there.  That kind of thing.  They believe in the good in the world, acknowledge the bad, and do their part to fix it.  

I like this.  I've always liked this.  

I can remember both times I tried being mean in middle school.  One was to impress a girl and the other was to impress the class.  In the former, I lost a fight I started and the later I said something totally stupid that sounded dumb and was ineffective.  I regret both.  

On the other side of this, I remember two instances where I was wronged and didn't say something to be 'nice' or 'good', and I remember them just as well.  My point in mentioning either is that I've always felt a very real sense of right and wrong.  I'm not speaking of morals, or saying what is right or wrong, just that 'right' and 'wrong' have always been two very real entities for me.  

Rather than being absolutes where if you don't do one, you thereby do the other, it's more like at many times, you have the opportunity to add right or wrong to the world.  This brings me to The Serial Dynasty, media in general, and collective consciousness.  

This past weekend, we were having a conversation about how much more aware we are of injustice in the world.  Something bad or tragic happens, and it's instantly all over the news.  We can read about it, donate to it, drive there if we really want.  This could look like driving to a Ferguson, MO protest or setting up a Kiva account.  The possibilities are endless, as are our opportunities to help people in need.  And this, as I see it, is one of the best things about the inner-connected world we live in.  

It's easy to think in terms of smallness and see the world around us as big, dark, and evil.  It's easy, in that view, to then hide things, be scared, be selfish, and take the little you have for yourself.  Or, we can join the larger movement going on, the bigger thing around us, and give our voice to that.  We can add to the good, share what we see or experience, and use these things to make a difference.  We can be a mass-media, social-media, globally-connected Butter Cream gang that makes a difference all around us.  

Which, I happen to think is right.  

Having Not, but Bringing it to the Light

Words hit you differently at different times.  Encouragement is better when you're down, sympathy better after a loss, and congratulatory comments better after you've accomplished something.  Verses of poems or sections of scripture are no exception.  

For many of the this week's mornings, I have read the same passage in the book of Mark (Mark 4:21-25, called 'A Lamp on a Stand').  Though quite short, three things have blown me away the more I hear about them.  The first was, basically: that things that are hidden are made to be found.  The second: 'what is concealed is meant to be brought into the light'.  The third, 'even what they have will be taken away'.  

'Things are meant to be found' is a beautifully stated encouragement to look to the world around us and find what is here to be found.  It always impresses me that people can do new things with music, even though the same instruments have been around with the same basic chords for so long.  Similarly, a common estimate among scientists is that we have discovered less than half the species on earth; some estimates are that 86% of all life is still unknown to humans.  Or take a book, especially a long one, particularly a good one;  in it is a whole world.  Cosmologists estimate that 90% of matter is 'dark', meaning that everything we see and know the properties of makes up less than a quarter of what is.  Amazing.  

 New discoveries happen every day.  Each day we find more, and the passage suggests that this is intentional.  It is all meant to be found and discovered.  In Bill Bryson's 'A History of Nearly Everything', the narrative is woven so that as humans think they've hit the climax of discovery, something new, bigger, better, revolutionary is around the corner.  

Compare anyone under the age of 25 and the science they're learning as opposed to what their parents and grand parents learned.  It's crazy.  But more than crazy, it's inspiring, because it takes a broad, expansive view of all that is out there.  Rather than see the earth as a planet with limited resources, bad people, and a tendency toward self-distruction, the passage suggests mystery, interaction, and intregue.  (The solutions to some of the problems that plague us would be included in things meant to be discovered.)

Taken as an inspiration, the individual question would perhaps be: what can you discover?

The second phrase, and the one that's had the biggest impact on me is 'what is concealed is meant to be brought into the light'.  This goes against so much of what the world would like us to think.  We mess up, do something wrong, are wronged - or some such thing - it often goes that the one wronged is left to deal with ramifications.  So you get hurt, screwed over, or mistreated, and then you're further plagued to deal with those feelings of hurt and wrongness.  You get stolen from, and you're left to deal with that loss.  In the realm of sexual misconduct, the victim is left off worse than the one who did the wrong.  

I've heard people in positions of power say - more than once - if you have anything negative to say, tell me directly; spread the positive to everyone at large.  Each time I hear that, I think it's so stupid.  Like: okay.  I'll tell all of the good things, write those down, go on record for them, and then gloss over the bad; so that now the record only states the good, and I'm contradicting myself if I say the negative thing.  Not cool.  Those negatives need to be brought into the light.  

The biggest reason this one got me is because recently I've personally seen a lot of people at the top remain stable, get more and more influence while the people they're 'serving' have less control, less power, less influence, and are left to deal with their gross misconduct.  This is unacceptable.  

The natural way human power structures seem to go is that there's a really small percentage at the top that has everything.  They make the rules and decisions, and a whole group below them suffers the consequences.  The missing element with this is that the ones at the bottom must accept the consequences, because they lack the power and influence to do anything about it.  And that isn't right.  So when these decisions are made or things happen to them, it's important to bring that all to the light.  

The final phrase, about 'even that will be taken away' has always seemed contradictory to me.  Like an assholeish thing said by JC to the least of these.  Like: if you're poor, you'll be poorer.  Doesn't seem too fair.  But I'd also only seen this as a phyiscal connection.  Like if you don't have possessions, you'lll get less.  Typically less money.  But then I thought about the mental state.

So many people that don't have power grasp the small scope they can influence.   A menial laborer beats his wife and kids.  A divorced mother gives hell to her only child.  A broken teacher forces his class to do the stupidest things the stupidest ways for the rules.  A coach makes her team to this.  A boss...It  could keep going, but the basic point is that many of us have power at some point.  This can be so simple as when you buy something and you listen to that asinine phrase 'the customer is always right', so since you're 'right', you have the power for that moment.  And then you can abuse it.  

When I think of people that seem broken, not doing well, and then they get worse and worse, it's typically in this type of a fashion.  Things ain't good, and they get worse; this and that keeps happening, but instead of admitting it, and changing, they grasp the straws.  Like the center is there and the layers get pealed and pealed back, but the person still won't let go and admit they're wrong.  

But oddly: there's such a freedom when you admit that you're wrong.  

That you can't.  

That you're having a hard time.  

When we give up this control, admitting that things have been better, could be better, or are, in fact, better, we're discovering what's next.  We're seeing this new thing, with these new eyes.  We're finding what is out there, hidden, waiting to be discovered.  In doing this, we're also admitting how little we have, and in so doing, will only get more.  And in getting more and telling our story or doing our thing, we're bringing this all to the light.  

Serial

I just finished listening to Serial for the third time.  I did because of intrigue as well as because I've also been listening to Undisclosed.  While listening to the later, the former caused me to go back to the original source.  This time, it took me two and a half days, although I listened to episodes 1-11 in about 23 hours.  

I first caught Serial at about episode 1, 2, or 3, while running on the treadmill.  I like listening to Podcasts while I run.  As a subscriber to This American Life, I came across Serial, and was immediately hooked.  Weekly radio programs, especially with a cliff hanger, are something I was brought up on.  My family would listen to Adventures in Odyssey on car rides, and (especially as their seasons went on and they did series) they'd come out weekly with much suspense.  

I have a very active mind, and it goes down all these rabbit holes and tangential outlets - which can get negative - so I thrust many avenues of thought at my brain at once, and it helps soothe me.  There are a few things, though, that focus all of my attention, and something like Serial is one such thing.  I like story.  I like justice.  I like helping people.  I like listening.  And I especially like it when those things have to be acutely focused on the exact present.  

Serial hooked me for how the story was told, but also because I've been really thinking about systems and systematic process and how systems affect the individual.  In the cases of both Adnan Syed and Hae Minn Lee, two individuals, the system didn't really help them.  Nor did it help their families.  

In a case where you have a crime and a solution and some type of punishment, it typically goes through and then the healing process can begin.  A family can get over the tragic death of their daughter, a family can deal with the sentencing of their son.  Humans are resilient.  We can adapt.  The initial blow will be a lot to take, but time heals it.  We deal and adjust.  We adapt to the new surroundings.  But neither the Lees nor the Syeds have had the opportunity to heal.  The Syeds have been appealing the decision of a jury for fifteen years, and consequently, the Lees cannot be at peace.  

A major reason for this is that the justice system did not provide adequate answers.  In a situation that involved (at the very least) two lives and their respective fates, The State used little evidence, shaky tactics, and speed.  And the result is that a man sits in a jail cell for the rest his life, a girl died tragically, and their families live with the reality of the actions every day of their lives.  

Throughout the course of the show, including all three listens, I go through many phases of thinking Adnan is guilty or innocent.  I see both sides.  However, I think that - as a simple matter of human life and equity - no person should ever be convicted of a murder with this little facts.  The State had one witness who changed his story several times.  They have nothing else.  Which means, essentially, a man is convicted from the testimony of one lying individual.  

Serial, which has a component of entertainment that cannot be overlooked, wove the narrative in a way that supports good story.  This is great and need be mentioned.  We hear very little from Adnan, none from Jay, and little of any length from anyone, so there could be much more to the story that a listener isn't privy to, but that's a side-point.

Things that don't align:

1. Adnan and Jay were together on the day The State says Hae Min Lee was killed.

2. Jay admits to being present at the burying of the body.  

3.  Jay has no punishment for this.

4. Adnan does not call Hae after she disappears.

5. The cell phone records put Jay and Adnan together during times of importance.

6. Jay's changing stories.

7. Mr. S.

Reasons I think Adnan is guilty:

1. Jay gains nothing from lying.

2. The State gains nothing from lying.

3. We don't hear him plead too much during Serial.

Reasons I think Adnan should not be convicted:

1. No evidence.

2. Key witness lied.

3. No physical proof.

4. Lack of motive.

5. Bad investigation.

6. Bad lawyer.

Though none of those things are very articulate or factual, I can't help but think how b.s. it is that someone would spend their life behind bars based upon that.  Our freedom, a U.S. ideal, is much more important than that.  

Another major problem as I see it is motivation; but the motivation is trifold.  I don't see the motivation for Jay to lie and put someone in prison for life.  I don't see the motivation for the Baltimore Police to put an innocent kid in jail.  And, I don't see the motivation for Adnan to kill Hae.  

None of it makes sense.  Rather, it would make more sense to me if we found out that this was a Podcast version of War of the Worlds, where they're using technology and true crime to have the first interactive Social Media Era story.  There's a part in serial where a woman from the jury tells Sarah that 'everyone knows someone like that' in reference to Jay.  Specifically in reference to the fact that all Baltimore residents know someone that could get them out of a jam in a similar fashion like this.  Sarah comments that she doesn't know someone like that, and neither do I.  I know people that could fight it via the legal avenues, like lawyers and judges and such, but I don't know who to call if a body was found in my trunk.  I don't know who would help bury it.  Hell, I feel guilty enough when I stop and throw extra trash in a dumpster.  

I am not sure where I ultimately land on Adnan's guilt or innocence.  There's a large part of me that thinks he might just have done it.  That he got mad, overreacted, did something impulsive, and is now in jail.  But as I write this, if Jay's story is true at all, my earlier sentence seems so false.  For Adnan to truly believe he's the 'baddest mother fucker' because he 'killed someone with his bare hands' and then run to first track practice and then church seems to contradict your own admission.  And to be observing Ramadan, and kill someone while doing so, seems very contradictory.  Then add to these contradictions Jay's newest admission on the intercept, it's like: what the hell?  It completely goes against the timeline for anything.  It makes no sense.  

When I think that way, I think Adnan is not guilty of killing Hae.  If there was any such conspiracy, it seems more likely that it would be Jay that did the killing and set the events up in such a way that he could blame it all on Adnan; something like he had a plan all along to get rid of the girl and did it when the time was right.  Which would mean that Jay needs some motivation, which could be anything.  

The finding of the body, the fact that there were other Asian females with the last name Lee that were killed in a similar fashion, that other students from this same school were murdered, it all doesn't make sense.  

The thing that I've been turning over so often is what the cops have to gain from a conviction of Adnan.  What do they gain locking up a kid for life?  A quick conviction?  A better solve rate?  I mean, I know that there are many factors like that to consider, but there shouldn't be this many factors in one case.  Had Jay simply given one story, provided the car, and the cell phones.  Had there been one piece of physical evidence.  Had there been even one piece of physical evidence.  

In this case, there were none.  In this lack of evidence, lack of closer, swarm of questions, there is a dead girl and a kid (no man) sitting in jail.  No closure, no evidence.  This is tragic.  Regardless of the actual guilt or innocence in this specific case, I'm glad that modern media is looking at the justice system, looking at what works and doesn't, and I hope the death and trial of Hae Min Lee brings other such cases to the light, and justice to more.  

Educational Thought of the Day

Unless a person has direct interaction with students, they should not make decisions about curriculum.  

In the Midst

There are very few times I get to focus all of my mind on one thing.  Typically I'm going several directions at once, and have had to learn how to funnel this properly so as to avoid mental fatigue.  I read a lot.  Every day.  And one reason I read is because by being in the midst of several stories, it helps me funnel some mental energy.  Some stays with this book, some stays with that.  

For the past few years, eight to be specific, I've had non-fiction and fiction both going on.  The non-fiction is typically religious.  I like religious thought and philosophy, especially takes on ancient life and how they live.  This reading is typically Christian, but I also very much respect the passions and routines of Islam.  Devoting yourself to God, thereby acknowledging you are not the center of the universe five times per day is pretty amazing.  I also really like the phrase "there is no God but God".  But, I digress.  A typical theme of thought is that one cannot move on to something more, until one becomes comfortable in and with their own surroundings.  In the midst of where they are today, right now.  This sentiment is on my mind a lot.  It speaks to me.  

Through the years, I've picked up a thread that people should be future minded, thinking about the next step, plotting for the next thing, which sort of overlooks the right now.  Misses that mark.  But the future, which will happen regardless, won't be any different from the present without steps being taken in the here-and-now to move us forward on a path.  To get us there.  The Future isn't some great mystical thing, it's a present that is yet to come.  One that will be here and will be either the same as now or different as now, dependent upon the actions of the present.  

Those actions can be better or worse dependent upon how I live and what I think, which is much better if it comes from a place of balance and calm.  Much better.  And the calm means I handle much present circumstances with grace, with honor, and take them as they are.  Right now.  In the midst of things as they are.  

What Kind of Life?

In church yesterday, my pastor pointed to a section in the gospel of John.  He pointed out something from this section, namely that Jesus' first words were a question.  Jesus turns to two people following him and says, "What do you want?"  

These two, following Jesus looking for a better way, are asked by Jesus, "What do you want?"

This was used in the sermon as a question: does following Jesus mean that we get what we want?  Do our matters, desires, and urges matter when it comes go Jesus, to God.  Is the creator of all things concerned about what we want?  And if so, what do we want?  

If God is concerned, this could really, really matter.  

More than concerned about the truth or answer to any of the above, I'm more concerned about the question: what do I want?  This is a question that I rarely allow myself to answer.  It's something I don't really think about.  I more or less follow the flow and allow other's desires to take over mine.  I'm much better at adapting than I am to leading the way.  

This has benefit, but it also has problems.  You can find yourself less than a month away from turning 35 - which sounds fucking old - and not know what you really want out of your life.  Or, if you're honest about it, you may see that you're not taking active steps to making those things happen.  

So then, what do you do?

For me, this year, that question really matters.  I've cared about it, but now I really care because something does change after you turn 30.  You see the bigger picture.  The desires of youth dissipate into the reality of what you're doing.  The abstract becomes practical.  You won't live in central America and learn Spanish if you don't buy a plane ticket and practice the dialect.  You're not going to be 'found' and promoted into some major position, unless you make it happen.  You don't have the luxury of floating around, going from job to job, you do something and call it a career.  

You're also more tired.  If you drink too much, you're hung over longer; if you stay up late and are on go-mode for a while, your body feels it.  It becomes laughably easy to put on weight, and a process to take it off.  And you have to make a lot more plans.  

I have a much easier time with some of this than I do with others.  Some of these things are hard.  Like when you find yourself in a position where you know you need to make changes, but it means you have to put in the time and effort to make them happen.  You realize that time and effort are finite, and you must therefore redirect your actions.  

Which brings me to the question: What kind of life?  Do my desires matter to God, and if they do, how do I make them matter more to me?  

The School Year

I will begin with a confession: I am not the world's best teacher. 

It's true.  I know it.  My students know it.  And I'm fine with it.  

I am, however, in the top half.  Any school I've at - seven at this writing - if you were to line ten teachers up, I'd probably be 6 or 7 in the line.  And I'd place a fair wager that the staff and students of that school would agree.   I go to games, get along with people, am competent, knowledgeable in my field, and like people enough that the basic skills of a teacher (communicating a body of knowledge to any group of people) come fairly naturally.  I also like people, especially high school aged people, and I love books (except for shitty ones, like The Reluctant Fundamentalist or A Long Way Gone).  I also love to write.  

I've been teaching for 12 years now, which is crazy to think and write.  I didn't really think of myself as a teacher until recently, and once I did, oddly, I've gotten worse at it.  I used to think of myself as a reader and writer that was teaching reading and writing, and planned on doing so until I could sell a novel.  Once I sold the novel, I figured I'd get to work in the writing world somehow, and I'd begin work on what would ultimately get my my honorary PHD.  

I've gotten more involved, earned a masters, taken leadership roles, began a writing club, coached sports, and then thought it would be a good idea to move to Grand Rapids, MI; since doing so, I realized I thought wrong.  

Most things here have not gone according to plan.  I'm at my third school in three years.  Teaching the third different grade in three years, learning the third different system, which is really hard.  

I'm not usually a complainer.  Typically, I'd rather do than complain, but that's waning as well, so I want to write about the year, and my experiences, because they deserve to be heard. 

They deserve to be heard because everyday over a hundred different kids sit in my classroom, a hundred different kids that are being badly treated by a bad system where people with talents and desires can't thrive.  Where the days are struggles and the faces are beaten down.  Where kids sit bored and teachers lose passion.  Where a few at the top have 'cush' jobs and make decisions that they pass to other people to tell other people so that other people can do them.  

It doesn't work.  

And I won't accept that.  

The System

It is very hard for me to be a part of a system that so obviously doesn't work.  When the system is broken but acknowledged, I can handle it.  The admission makes the horizon promising, but when The System is hailed above all else, I have a problem.  When pieces are put in place just to have pieces: I have a problem.  

This has probably always been the case on some level, but the more I know - about the system and myself - the worse it is.  

I took a class last year that devoted a third of the concept to self reflection/understanding.  It included long bouts of thinking about instances that inspired anger and annoyance; it included tests of general aptitude, and I was especially apt at conceptual thinking.  The best example of this would be Quantum Physics.  As far as a science, there is almost nothing I could explain and/or prove.  If I were to even speak of it, my words could all be in error; yet when listening or thinking about the ramifications of the science, how it plays out, what it does/could mean, I'm there.  Things like: twin particles, matter being ever existing and traveling, an expanding universe and the like are all examples of things that, to me, get to a general life force that has spiritual ramifications deeper than (perhaps) any to date.  But I couldn't explain why; I just get it.  

Why this is important is that when someone explains something, though the particulars don't separate into facts and factoids, the overall message makes sense to me.  How to get it to happen, conceptually, makes sense to me.  Another skill of mine is encouraging people, and empowering them to believe in themselves.  These things, together, can help be a change.  

Being a change, or doing what I can has been something that I've tried to do over the years, and it's been very important to who I am and want to be.  Lately, though, it's hit an impasse.  What I can do has grown in scope, while my daily power to do anything about it has shrunk.  

Which leaves me drained.  Unable to do what I'm best at.  Which isn't a good trajectory.  

Rather than fixing the system, I'm becoming a part of the system; unwillingly, but I'm sure that's how it starts.  I don't want to be jaded.  I don't want to be bad.  I don't want to have a negative impact.  

I'll provide more explanation later, but the biggest problem of my particular system (the school system) is that we have way too many people on the top.  Too many positions of power.  On paper, these positions impact the students, but in reality, they cause hoops to be jumped through, so that they have something to do, and secretaries to fill their schedules, to dole out work, to create a trail, to prove their worth.  

But worth that's created for it's own sake is just waste.  

The Body, pt. III (my body)

On this 22nd day of September, I'm about a month into the South Beach Diet.  In the first two body posts, I mentioned how great the body is and how I've taken mine more or less for granted.  I hit my lowest point when I was trying on clothes for a dream job interview, and nothing fit.  Buttons wouldn't cross, and my clothes were humorously ill-fitting.  My lovely girlfriend was helping me select clothes, and she witnessed my mood fluctuate from (semi)excited to frustrated, throwing clothes that used to be staples into the 'give away' pile.  Though we finally found something that fit, we vowed to make some changes.  Hence: The South Beach Diet.

The South Beach Diet works.  I've done it before, and if you stick to it, you will lose pounds.  The reason I like it and used it, is that it's forced me to think about what I eat and then seeing how it effects me.  The diet's comprised of three phases - phase I, Phase II, and Phase III.  As the phase increases, the strictness decreases.  

Phase I is strict.  You basically can't have sugar or carbs.  So any breads, fruits, or sweets are out.  It's hard to follow, but you can feel your body using it's natural supply of fat, and you see quick results.  I lost 10-lbs on this phase, and feel way better.  

Phase II is when you begin re-entering carbs into yoru diet.  First week, one carb p/day, second week, 2 carbs, ect.  Most people lose between 1-2lbs p/week in this phase.  And this is where I'm at.  

During the first phase, I decided to weigh myself everyday.  The motivation helped.  It also kept me accountable.  I have a google doc that has my weights on it, and I can see the loss.  Now, on the second phase, I'm weighing myself on Monday and Friday mornings; I wanna see how my weekend habits v. my weekday habits affect my weight.  I'm also making sure to put my gym clothes in car so that when I have extra time, I can make sure to work out.  I've also shifted what I consider a work out.  

It used to be that I'd really only count a run as a workout.  Running is a great thing for me, but if I only count running, I miss out on other forms of exercise and it becomes so obligatory that it stops working.  Plus, my legs, knees, and back started hurting.  I'm now thinking about working out as getting the heart rate up, and working on the core.  It's meant some fast-walking and cycling.  I feel better.  

The other big change I've made, which is where I think I've typically gained weight, is how I've been doing my lunches.  For years, I've brought a sandwich, chips, and an apple for lunch; if i didn't bring it, I'd go out and buy something like this.  The result was a net lose of $12, and weight gain.  (I have a job where I'm sitting a lot, or can be stationary.  I'm also using my mind more than my body, so I'll be mentally drained, forgo exercise, and loaded with food).  So I've been bringing South Beach style lunches: meat and cheese, tuna sans bread, and then having an afternoon snack of nuts.  It works.  I'm hungry for dinner, but not sluggish during the day.  I've been adding a cup of coffee, and finding that it works.  

I began the diet, officially, at 230.8 lbs.  Today, I stood on the scale at 217.0.  13.8 lbs in a month.  I'll take it.  

And I do feel better.