The Weight a Teacher Wears

I stand in front of a class of 25+ students four times a day, I lecture and educate them on Psychology, Sociology, Government and Economics.

But I do more than that and it's the most important thing I can do, more than that teaching stuff.

I can show them I love them.

I do not know if you can ever be surprised by some of the stories you hear of former and current students. I try not to believe much about current students, because you are just getting into the rumor/gossip issues that can lead to hurting a student.

But as teachers, we hear things, and we can still love our students despite what they may have done. Really...how many of us have a squeaky clean past? Yea, I thought so.

But forget the things that the students do to themselves, but what is done to them. It is sad and scary and it is amazing that they can come to your class and function as a human being at all considering what has happened to them.

Yet, we too often forget these things and treat them as if they are being fed properly, told to clean themselves, get to bed and study so they can be ready to learn from us again.

I can tell you that if I did not have a supportive wife, I would be a mess many days and yet we expect children from 5-18 years of age who do not have proper guidance to act the way that us educated, supported people do.

Former students...I see the pain and agony you go through. I see the turning from your values because of money. I see how much hurt you are enduring and it affects me, it affects many of your past teachers who truly loved you as a young person, growing, and learning.

It tears us apart when we see you arrested, or beaten, or divorced, or addicted.

It upsets us when you are upset because something in life has not gone the way you wanted.

I have taught for many years and I thoroughly enjoy hearing what former students are doing as adults. I enjoy meeting their spouses and their children and laughing as they have learned things the hard way we tried to teach them and they share their stories of ups and downs.

As the state of Indiana puts more and more expectations on us as teachers, I will do what I am supposed to do to keep my job, but through my experiences, tests and grades mean very little with the time I have a student in class. There are bigger issues at work.

Do they enjoy my class? I realize some things are inherent in learning and joy is not often felt. But do kids when then are heading to my class, are they feeling revulsion or acceptance?

Do they know that I care? You would not believe some of the things kids share with teachers. From very personal issues to the extremely trivial, we have to let them know we care either way.

I have been doing this for 21 years and I have changed so much. In some ways for the good and many would argue in other ways for the bad.

But when I finish teaching or when students look back on me as a teacher, I could care less if they remember anything I taught (but it sure would be nice), but I hope they know that I enjoyed my job, I love my family, I enjoy having them in class, and I love them as human beings and would do very much to help them.

Not just today, but for the rest of my life.

That is the weight a teacher wears.

Aruba

No One is to Blame for Me, but Me

Let me preface this article by saying no one is to blame for me, but me.

I am insecure, not as bad as I used to be, but I am.

My feelings can get hurt too easily and I over think absolutely everything.

Why? I have put a lot of thought into it as I have aged, but here is what I have come up with.

My dad is one of the greatest men I have ever known, he is one of the most selfless people I have ever known, but I missed out on something growing up.

Again, no one is to blame, but me, but I can remember wanting to hear my dad tell me I was great, I wanted to hear compliments, but I do not remember getting them that often. My mom and other people would do it, but it never seemed to have the same reinforcement than if my dad did it.

Now I want anyone reading this to understand that my dad was a loving person to me, my sister and my mom. I learned many, many lessons on how to be a great father from him. He never drank alcohol and always gave of his time for me and my sister, but I just do not remember being told good job.

No one is to blame, but me in needing the words when I was almost overwhelmed with love by him through his actions.

Why did I need that affirmation from him? No idea. But it drove me to be successful in athletics just trying to get him to acknowledge it, but he didn't by word, but I got more than enough hugs from him.

Maybe it is become my dad didn't play sports and didn't understand what I was doing...?

I blame my grandfather who was a violent alcoholic towards my grandmother and his children, a grandfather who in his later life was very much loving to me, but was not to my dad. Because of that my dad spent much of his 20's and 30's when I was little, attempting to heal from his childhood. Considering what my dad endured, he was awesome...but I needed that verbal reinforcement.

No one is to blame, but me on how I feel about growing up.

Because of my immaturity, my lack of self-esteem, I do not know why, but I needed to hear those words..."I'm proud of you".

As an adult, my dad has used those words quite often. He's told me he's proud of me as a husband, father, and teacher/coach. You can see how proud he is of me when he tells me now and it feels good to hear, but there is this gnawing feeling I have carried into adulthood trying to please, not just him, but it has carried over now to my wife, my bosses, and other people that I care about.

My lack of self-esteem came about 7th grade when I went from being the cute elementary kid morphing into a young man with acne. The acne didn't affect me, but how people saw, treated and said things to me did.

Kids can be cruel, and even the slightest comment hurt deeply.

But, I was good at sports and that helped and my first love helped knowing that a girl in high school cared enough about me to over look the exterior because she saw my inside.

But it brought doubts.

It is crazy that I still long for verbal appreciation, it feels good to hear my wife say "you worked your butt off" for us to go on a trip, it feels good to hear any of my bosses or fellow workers acknowledge things I have done extra, and it feels good to be recognized.

But anymore, I feel less like I need it, and I will, in fact, try to deflect it. I have become that person that longs for the verbal appreciation, but then plays the humble person pretending that I do not need to hear it.

The mind is such a complex thing isn't it?

As I have aged and become wiser and grown in my faith, I have learned it is not about me in my actions in trying to be successful. My perceived slights are about me, but my actions to do what is right should never be about me.

I try to live each day doing for others and if they acknowledge it, so be it, if they do not, well I need to get over myself because that is not why I should be helping.

My expectation should not be loyalty or appreciation, my expectation should be am I glorifying God and being consistent in my belief system and if I am, that is all I need.

But it still hurts when I see friends getting together and no one asked me.

It still hurts when you feel that you have done a lot for someone and they do not reciprocate.

It still hurts when you have shown loyalty that few have, and yet you are overlooked, not seen and on the most shallow level feel disrespected.

But the battle I wage is my own, it is not my dad's fault, it is not my mom's fault, it is not my wife's fault, it is not my kids or superiors fault, it is mine.

I for too long have cared what others think and I know I have put up walls and it has made me come off as a jerk sometimes and maybe that is part of why I am left out.

If you put up the walls and keep everyone at arms length, you will not get hurt, but you will also be treated as if you do not want to be involved.

So I am writing to get some of these thoughts off my chest, to put them out there for me to feel better.

Maybe it will make you feel better too.

Maybe not.

Just know if you are struggling with these types of feelings, you're not alone and quit blaming others for what you can control in how you feel and what has "happened" to you.

It's not their fault.

It is you and your lack of completely understanding that you are enough, that you should help without expecting reciprocation and if you show loyalty, do not expect anything in return.

That is hard...real hard, but you should be attempting to help others not because it will gain you anything, but you should help others and do good deeds because it is the right thing to do.

But what do I know?

I'm almost 50 and still over thinking too much.

Perspective Riding Along I-65

Social media is too often used for negative purposes.

People get angry or upset and grab their phone and without thinking type out something that probably is not needed for all to see.

There are the political and other posts that are snide and one sentence attempting to make one side of an issue look as ignorant as possible through memes and other ways to make us look dumb.

But there are good ways it can be used and I hope I have done that more often than not.

And that is by reading about the lives of those around us and what they have gone through.

Reading about Calla Davis to Megan Ekart most recently to keeping up with Aiden Johnson and Spencer Emily and Ayden Billingsley and Iliad Mullins and many other situations in which young people have been injured or seriously ill can be humbling.

It should be humbling.

It should help us to remember that most of the things we watch on the news or read on social media are so insignificant, yet we let them stress us, age us.

Reading about those above and many others who have gone through real struggle, real life and death experiences, and too often the families dealing with the death of someone should help us to lead a more humble life with proper perspective.

I have often said if you want to know what is important in life, you want to know how we should all live, spend some time with someone who is dying. Suddenly, many issues mean zilch.

If you cannot allow that to give you proper perspective then travel internationally and I am not talking about driving through poor places on the way to a resort.

I am talking about living and breathing and eating inside some of the largest slums of Africa, South American and Asia.

I am talking about watching the amount of government corruption that exists in some countries that when you are pulled over by law enforcement the expectation is to bribe them to be on your way.

I am talking about understanding that this country is not perfect, never has and never will be, but there is a reason why millions are willing to risk everything to make it here.

But we do not keep proper perspective and sometimes we really lose it over nothing.

The other day my wife and I were watching the Northside Christian service where Pastor Nate Ross was helping the congregation deal with the passing of a little girl, Calla Woods, whose father is also a Pastor at Northside.

My wife and I shed tears, sang along and worshiped in that car on I-65 heading home from Destin, Florida and were moved by Nate's words and the presence of the Woods family at the service.

Then we pulled off the interstate to grab some food at the local Burger King.

They were busy, they were behind and one family of two in their 50's or 60's were not happy that they had not received their food yet.

It had been a whole ten minutes and they...were...not...having it.

I was standing there and just had watched the Northside service and I watched a man rip a bag of fast food from a young woman who is doing the best she can because he did not get his food fast enough.

It was hard to watch and say nothing.

But as my order came up, much later, instead of confronting that couple about how ridiculous their behavior was, I smiled and said "thank you" to the woman behind the counter who was apologizing for the time.

I am not perfect.

I have been humbled and I have traveled, but even I still forget how blessed I am.

And it is usually taken out on the people I love the most, or some stranger who is just trying to survive the moment so she can pay the bills.

If you are reading this or know of any of the stories I mentioned or have traveled to poor countries and you are not changed, then you have a real soul problem.

But we are not perfect and we will slip and forget sometimes, but realize, apologize and try to be better in the future.

That is all we can do.

Take care and God Bless.

2019 4th and 5th grade camp in the books

SCHS 2nd-3rd Grade Camp 2019 in the Books

Coach Means Many Things

John Bradley is my friend.

It did not start out that way because when I was in high school playing for Henryville, he was the varsity boys basketball coach at Silver Creek.

His job my senior year was to find a way to slow me down as a scorer, and well, he was the coach of the evil empire.

Somehow I was able to get past his past when he became the boys basketball coach at Henryville.

I had graduated a few years before and my coach had stepped down and there were a couple different guys who had coached and it didn't work out.

Coach Bradley was ready to come in and rebuild a program that the town could be proud of.

I was pretty lost those first few years after high school, not really understanding what I was doing, where I was going and would still attend Henryville open gyms and games when I could.

I will never forget one day I was standing against the wall of the Spurgeon gym (the older, smaller gym) and Coach Bradley came up and asked me how I was doing.

After some small talk about where I was working, what I was doing he then asked a question that would forever change my life.

"Would you be interested in coaching the freshman team?" he asked.

I was 23 years old, but the weight of coaching was something I had zero confidence I could do and he must have seen how I reacted because he told me to take 24 hours and think about it.

I did.

I accepted.

From that moment in that gym to today, coaching basketball has taken me around the state of Indiana, it has taken me to other places in this country, it has taken me to five continents (six this summer, headed to Australia), and has allowed me to be to young men what John Bradley was and is to me.

A mentor, and now a friend.

Recently, Coach and Mrs. Bradley's son, Michael, passed away and I cannot fathom the pain they have endured and still are and I am sure will for the rest of their lives.

But they can rest easier, I hope, knowing that they have made positive contributions to so many young people's lives as coaches and teachers.

They have given much of their time through the years to help others from students to adults. They have done so willingly and unselfishly.

If it were not for John Bradley walking up to a 23 year old and asking him a simple question, I do not know where I would have ended up.

But because he did, it has been a heckuva ride and all because he took time then and through the years to help me out.

My only hope is that he can understand what he has done and that he and his wife's lives have not been in vain because of situations that happen to them, but they have had hugely successful lives because of the situations they have created for others.

Who Do You Think You Are?

I'm just a guy who is probably too self-aware that is able to convey his feelings in written and spoken form that some people can relate.

That's it.

Sure, I'm a husband and father (the greatest thing I am), a son, a brother, a....well, you get the point. I'm many things.

I'm a basketball coach who has lost with seasons where I've won 3 games to this past season as an assistant with Silver Creek boys where we won the State Championship.

I'm someone who thinks too much, worries too often, and too often thinks they know everything and nothing at the same time.

I'm someone who deals with anxiety and sometimes feel like I don't know if I want to go on, but am scared to death I'm going to die.

I feel the weight of too much responsibility, but yet, will pull back when I cannot breathe because of me not being able to say "no".

Recently, I was asked by Leah Lowe if I would provide an article from time to time for the Charlestown Courier, and I agreed.

Not because I think I have anything anyone would want to read, but because writing is cathartic for me and if maybe, just maybe, it can help someone else see they're not alone, make them smile, or help them to remember something than that is a good thing.

I enjoy being from and living in southern Indiana.

Yes, I love my hometown of Henryville and my current town of the last 16 years, Sellersburg.

But I can also see the goodness in the surrounding communities and the people who make those places tick on a daily basis.

I enjoy traveling over seas (I have been on five continents and Lord willing six this summer when the family heads to Australia) for coaching clinics and the basketball people know about Indiana high school basketball.

I enjoy finding joy in the monotony of daily life. I believe we too often forget to stop and smell not just the roses, but the air outside even if it is the smell of whatever is burning from the Clark-Floyd Landfill (what is that by the way?).

Finally, my faith in Jesus Christ is what helps me make sense of the chaotic, depressing things that happen too often to and around me.

I put my hope not in the things of this world, but in Him.

I put my hope not in the people of this world, but in Him.

I put my hope not in anything of this world, but I do in Him.

So, here we go, this is the first installment of what may become something I do regularly, or it might be the last, depending on what Mrs. Lowe thinks.

It could be basketball related, it could be Jesus related, it could be family related, or it could be about something that is on mind and has nothing to do with any of that.

Thanks in advance for reading, but if you do not; well, have a great day anyway.

Another First Place Ring

I Am a White Man in America

Just look at me above, I am white.

I so wanted to have something other than Irish or German DNA, so I did the ancestry DNA thing, and it came back conclusive...I'm white.

30% German
30% Irish/Welsh/English
16% Northern Europe (YES! Part Viking)
4% Southern Europe (Maybe Italy? Possibly some non-white DNA?)

Then some small percentages of other places including < 1% of Jewish DNA.

So, I'm white and I have the paperwork to prove it.

And you can look at me to see that I'm a white man in a predominantly white country with white privilege.

Yes, I said it or typed it, I guess, white privilege.

White privilege exists whether we want to acknowledge it or do anything about it.

Sort of like racism, you can deny it exists, but it does so you're incorrect.

But back to white privilege.

If you're not white, you're probably surprised that white people don't understand their privilege because it's been, well, our life.

I explained it someone once that I have been allowed to "float" through life because of my race.

My family was not the most affluent (we didn't want for anything, but didn't live in a mansion either) in a small town. I had so much support that I was able to pretend like high school mattered, was given many opportunities at jobs, flunked out of college (sorta), worked dead end jobs while figuring out who I was, was offered a coaching position, started subbing and working without a real job after a degree for two years, and now live in a nice home in a nice community with spoiled children.

If that doesn't explain white privilege, I don't know what will because I am not  Kennedy or a Bush, or any super affluent rich family in this country.

I'm just a regular guy who floated through his 20's until he found himself and his purpose and started to "thrive".

What % of people of color are able to do that?

They often come from broken homes (not me), they have little support (not me), they aren't given the opportunities of jobs because of issues that come from the first two points listed her (not me), they don't go to college or if they flunk out, it's over (not me), they rarely are given time to find themselves because they are trying to survive the day to day (not me) and just parts of these points do not allow for them to live in a nice home, in a nice community with spoiled children like I do.

Is it socioeconomic and not racial? It could be, but...

What races are often worse off socioeconomically? Non-white.

Should they be able to get out of their situation? Yea, I believe it's a possibility, but as a teacher of psychology and sociology and really, just a person who can look around and see that poverty is generational. It is very hard for anyone to overcome their situation, no matter race.

But it makes sense that if larger numbers of a race are in poverty, then that race will have a harder time overcoming their circumstances.

Which gets me back to my original point.

White privilege exists and really so does American privilege, but that's an article for another time.

But I want you to think about this:
1. I can call 911 at any time and support will be to me almost immediately where I live.
2. I can approach a police officer at any time either peaceful or in a hostile situation and be protected.
3. I can drive through any part of any town and not be pulled over for being suspicious, but often for "my own good" as in "you really need to get out of this part of town" (that may or may not have actually happened.
4. I can speak to law enforcement in just about any tone that I want to.
5. No one follows me around in a store worried about what I am going to do.
6. I could carry a gun and not be stopped by law enforcement and maybe even celebrated by most of those people around me.

And I am sure there are more points I could come up with if I wanted to.

Now don't get me wrong, I love law enforcement, I have friends in law enforcement who some agree with me and I do believe that criminals regardless of race should be treated as such, but...

Why are they criminals?
Why am I not?

I can guarantee you that I have done things in the past and had encounters with law enforcement that ended better for me for whatever reason, but I see it now as white privilege.

But white privilege exists, how do I know?

Because 90%+ people of color think it does.

Because 90%+ people of color think there are issues based on their skin color.

Ok, just because those stats exists doesn't mean it's real, I will concede you are allowed to have that opinion, but if that high of a % believes there are racial issues and believe privilege exists, shouldn't we at least listen?

Yea...I think that's a good place to start.

Listening.

Then learning.

Then changing.

Come on, we can all change some can't we?

Went to Indianapolis for the State Assembly Recognition...Concurrent Resolution

The House is bottom picture, Senate is the top picture.

More pics of Our Family

Pics to Have

A Little Boy's Dream

Surreal is an adjective having the qualities of surrealism, bizarre. It is synonymous with unreal, unusual, weird, strange, freakish, unearthly, dreamlike.

I have had a few surreal moments in my life, my wedding vows with my wife, the birth of our children and surviving an EF-4 tornado while in the school at Henryville H.S. are the ones that stand out the most for me.

But being an assistant coach of a state championship basketball team is right up there with "why me?"

How did I get here? And why is it that big of a deal to me?

As a little boy, I would get Hoosier Basketball magazine (there was no Internet to get information from) and I would almost memorize all of the information in the magazine. I learned who the top teams in the state were and the top players.

Being from Henryville, a small town in southern Indiana, we didn't have those types of teams and those types of players. But we did have some really good teams and some really good players and they were who I idolized, who I was in awe of.

So growing up, I wanted to be a Henryville basketball player, and I would put a metal hanger in the top of my door, wad up a sock and tape it up and I would be just that, a Henryville basketball player. I would make up a schedule of all the top teams in that magazine and we would go undefeated and win the state championship.

As I grew up, I had a basketball goal that my dad made for me from old lumber of a house he tore down. The rim eventually broke, but was functional, and I had no concrete to dribble, yet I did. I played on that grass until it was worn away and I would play on it in dry summer, wet spring, or snow covered winter and I would play games there just like in my room and would win the state championship.

I have coached for 28 years of high school basketball helping in one way or another, but after being the head coach at Henryville and not having the success I wanted, I chose on my own, to step down.

The tornado changed my thinking about a lot of things, but my children attend Silver Creek schools, and I decided that I wanted to help the SC boys basketball program if Coach Hoffman would have me, and he did.

My first year helping, we won the sectional and the emotional feeling was unbelievable. From the celebration after to the send off for regional, it is hard to explain other than I was elated. That first year, it was Mark Rieger, Coach Hoffman, Robert Briscoe and myself.

The next year we won again and Coach Whitlock was back as JV coach after one year away and Neil Coffman started sitting on the bench with us.

We won 4 sectionals, but could not get past the regional...until this year.

Last year Joe Campbell was added to the staff.

Before I go into this season, everyone who reads this should understand that we have some really good men/ human beings as basketball coaches at Silver Creek. I would not want my son to play for any other group than these men.

Then this season started, and we were good, but I am not sure I understood how good we were.

We won a lot of games.

We won the sectional.

We won the regional and it was just like that first year winning the sectional, an elated high of accomplishing something special.

Then we won the semi-state in an emotional, hard fought game...and I cannot put into words how happy I was. We were actually going to play for a state championship in Banker's Life in Indianapolis.

Then we won the state championship.

And it is surreal, even now over a month later, it feels weird, bizarre, strange.

Doing that is something that I have such high reverence for that as a little kid I had these wild dreams I would be a part of it some day.

But as you age, those dreams tend to die or fade away as each year passes and it doesn't happen, it seems too impossible.

Then it happens.

All I can think is why do I get to experience this? And how am I supposed to act or feel?

But it has made me so thankful.

It has made me thankful for my parents and wife and kids who get to experience this by watching or through me as I experience it.

It has made me thankful for all the fans of our team who were there those weeks in large numbers and supported us.

It has made me thankful for all the people on social media who have reached out or shared their thoughts and pictures.

It has made me thankful of my friends, acquaintances, former players, family, and total strangers who have reached out or stopped me and congratulated me.

It has made me even more thankful to be working at a school that expects excellence with coaches, not just in boys basketball, but all sports that expect to win.

It has made me thankful to work with men like Mark Rieger, George Gerth, Joe Campbell, Jesse Whitlock, Neil Coffman and Head Coach Brandon Hoffman who all share similar beliefs, values and ideas when it comes to life and coaching.

Finally, it has made me thankful that the little boy playing in his room and on that old grass court who wanted to win a state championship and got to finally live out his dream.

But for my two children, it's not something that is so far away that they cannot fathom it ever happening to them.

They know it can because they've seen it happen to their school, their team and to their dad.

My unreachable dream as a child, has become a possibility to my own children. It is not something out of reach, but something that can be experienced, because they have.

Pre-game Semi-State 2019...we beat Crispus Attucks to head to State

Kids...(sigh)

I love people.

I love my parents.

I love my other family members.

I love friends and my students.

I love my wife.

Each of these groups have a different type of love, some more deep than others and some in ways I cannot explain.

But my kids...(sigh)...I love them in a way that is hard to explain and even comprehend.

Sure, they can drive me crazy, but I would not hesitate to give my life for them and if something were to happen, it would not be a good thing...at all.

Why is it that we live our lives with our children like they are going to be little forever?

Like they will listen to our words forever?

Like they will respect and do what we want forever?

The bottom line is that we have a very short time to prepare them for the world.

They are born and it is probably around 3 or 4 when they begin to understand a little bit of life, and we probably have them until they are 14 or 15 if we are lucky.

So you about a decade to love your children and teach them to avoid the obstacles, pot holes, and land mines of this world.

You have about a decade to help guide them and teach them how to bounce back from the inevitable failures they will encounter either by them or the people they love.

You have about a decade to love them in a way that they will know when they face an obstacle, a pot hole or a land mine, they can return to you to have their backs.

If you do a decent job, you will have them around for longer than 0-18 years.

But never, ever take for granted hugging them, kissing them, and telling them you love them.

They may not get it or completely understand until they are older, but love them and they will love you back.

My Time Here at SC in Sectional Ships

(2014)

(2015

(2016)

(2018)

(2019)

It Never Gets Old...

Thanks to Coach Brandon Hoffman for allowing me to be part of the ride. We have won 5 sectionals in the 6 years I have helped at Silver Creek and the only game we lost was in overtime. Great kids and great coaches make it thoroughly enjoyable for me and my family.

13 Ways in Approaching Coaches about More Playing Time

Some pointers for parents who want more playing time for their child in any given sport.

Dos:

1. Put in extra time off the court, you are not at practice, so you cannot know what's going on there, but if you put in extra time off the court, you can see where improvements are made.

2. Schedule a face to face with the coach some time away from the game so that emotions aren't involved.

3. Volunteer to coach at a lower level so you can see how hard it is to be "fair" when it comes time for you to watch, and then understand that when your child is playing.

4. Realize that this season will too end and unless the coach is being physically or emotionally abusive (coaching is neither) your child will learn a lot and be ready for the next coach.

5. If you are more than one season into a career, your child may not be being picked on, but it may be obvious to everyone but you that she is just not that good.

6. Include your child in the meeting the "don't say anything to ______ because he doesn't know I'm here and wouldn't like it" is weak. Get everyone on the same page, or stay away.

Don'ts:

1. Never say it's not about playing time...it always is. You may believe it is not, but it is, be honest with yourself.

2. Do not text or email...meet face to face or over phone. Tone can never be measured through the written word here and either side can get angry real quick over perceived tone.

3. Do it as least emotional as you can, so don't approach immediately after a game or in a hostile manner.

4. Do not stand for anyone else to approach the coach. This absolutely does not go over well.

5. Other people rarely ask why your child doesn't play more because that would require him playing over their child. Admit that you have complained and someone was being a good friend and agreed with you even if they didn't actually agree with you.

6. You are not a practice, not all players are treated equal (cost-benefit analysis for sure), so refrain from personal attacks on the coach.

7. Stay off social media with your complaints, it's embarrassing to you and to your child. It gives others with axes to grind to comment, and you would not like it if were happening to you or your child coaching.

Whether you agree or disagree with the coach, at the end of the season thank them for taking so much personal time away from their family and friends to try and instill values into your child.

The amount of money paid for any coaching position (sometimes $0) does not account for the time and efforts put into coaching and dealing with all of the issues they deal with.

How to Be Successful at Anything in 5 Steps

1. You must be willing to give up something to get what you want.

2. You must be willing to push through pain and discomfort to get what you want.

3. You must be willing to receive help to get what you want.

4. You must put in the time to get what you want. (See #1 and #2).

5. You must be give everything you have risking heart breaking failure.

Failed that Quiz

You know, I have a set of ideals I try to live by and many people think they may be unattainable, but I don't.

They are harder than the average person, I am sure, but they are nothing out of the realm of possibility of happening.

But I fail often and though it may feel good to do so sometimes, ultimately, I feel badly.

I feel badly because I am trying to be a good example for many especially when hostile situations occur.

The other night, I reacted in a way I am not proud of.

I reacted in a way that probably deserved the way I reacted, but not with the words I used.

I believe in righteous anger, I think some of my reaction was done because of that, but I should have chosen different words.

People may say bad things about me, they may think bad things about me, and I don't really like it, but I understand it can happen; however when someone attacks those close to me, I see it as something to horrific that it must be confronted.

But there's a better way than I did the other night.

And I feel such a hypocrite.