I rode 200 miles. You can donate, be a part of my ride, win a place in my heart, get a thank you card, receipt for tax deductions.
http://www.nationalmssociety.org/mos/personal/default.asp?pa=52749245&pd=MOS0EMS120060909COL
Dad wrote on every postcard he ever sent: The weather is here, wish you were beautiful.
3 John
Do good; avoid evil. 1:11
I said this more often than I’m proud of while I was playing educator. It just echoes in my head, having heard it from Dad so much. I never knew it was holy scripture.
- a 1st draft poem by Kurt, inspired by Dominic Boyland, January 2005
When I’m bored, I raise my hand.
When I don’t want to work, I raise my hand.
When I want to disrupt, destroy, have all the power and control for a moment, I raise my hand.
When I’m curious, I raise my hand.
When I want to learn, I raise my hand.
Thank God I can raise my hand.
I dreamt I chatted with Hillary Clinton last night. She was very charismatic and convincing. She remembered meeting Dad, and like everyone I meet, asked how Julie’s doing. The setting was a Southern camp from the movie “Primary Colors.” I gave her one of my cards with the link to this blog.
BIST stands for Behavior Intervention Support Team.
BIST.org is their website. Marty Hewett is their charisma.
I worked two years at De La Salle Middle School at St. Matthew’s in north St. Louis, MO, as a BIST interventionist. My title was as flexible as my job description, but I always preferred Behavior Coach. I am now contacting BIST to see if there are opportunities to create.
I am reading through my extensive notes on all that happened in my head during my two years at De La Salle. I’m not as interesting as I thought it would be. Hans had told me that there is a period of time that must pass before reading one’s own journaling is intriguing. I guess I haven’t changed enough or forgotten enough. Maybe I should read my journal from the Novitiate, or from grade school…. or my past blogs
I did come across this quote, which inspired the blog:
A coach is someone who tells you what you don’t want to hear, makes you do what you don’t want to do, so you can become what you want to be.
Dad called me “Coach” after he visited me at Holy Cross School in New Orleans. All these high schoolers were calling me Coach and respecting my commands. His face showed pride in me, which I’ll never forget.