While discussing how tiny seeds grow into enormous trees, Clara shouted:
“That’s kind of like you, Dad. You came from nothing!”
I appreciated the sentiment, but it’s not entirely true. I’ve certainly been making it on my own since I was 18 years old—eventually putting myself through college and building a career in teaching, writing, performing, and consulting—and I’ve been forced to deal with many hard things in my life absent any parental support or guidance.
However, I often think back on the education I received while living in Blackstone, Massachusetts, and how enormously valuable it has been to me.
How much it set me up for success.
The academics were important, of course, but not nearly as important as people mistakenly think.
Yes, I learned the academic skills required to operate effectively in today’s world, but none were nearly as essential to me as the lessons learned outside textbooks, lectures, and assessments.
The stuff that really matters. The stuff that has always really mattered.
Lessons from teachers who remain fixed in my mind and enter my thoughts more often than you could imagine:
Mrs. Dubois, my kindergarten teacher, taught me to be independent and unknowingly taught me that so many consequences in this world lack any real teeth.
Mrs. Carroll, my kindergarten assistant teacher, who taught me to do hard things, commit to a task, and pursue it relentlessly to completion.
Mr. Hartnett, my elementary school principal, who taught me about the value of honesty and afforded me the opportunity to be courageous for the first time in my life.
Mrs. Shultz, my middle school math and homeroom teacher, who spurred my love for politics and showed me how a teacher can be a friend, too. Even more important, she also helped me find my voice for the first time.
Mr. Maroney, my high school French teacher, who gave me my first platform to be funny, helped me understand the art of negotiation, and made me feel safe and seen whenever I was in his presence.
Buddy Bibeault, Thomas Hessney, and Russ Arnold — three band instructors who taught me how to work hard, function as a member of a team, compete at the highest level, commit everything to achieving excellence, and so much more.
Coach Cronin, my track and field coach, who taught me that opportunity often comes when you’re willing to be different, try new things, act courageously, and be a little crazy.
Mr. Furey, my high school physics teacher, who showed me that demonstrating passion for something you love can be a glorious and inspiring thing.
Marc Compopiano, my high school English teacher, who taught me to challenge authority, speak my mind, and in many ways launched my lifelong love for writing, and eventually, my publishing career.
Stephen Chrabaszcz, my high school vice principal, who allowed me to go to war with administration for the first of what has been many times in my life. He taught me that authority, title, and position are meaningless monikers — words absent any real value — that never indicate the measure of a person and can be pushed, prodded, and even punched when needed.
Clara was sweet to say I came from nothing, but it’s not close to being true. My path may have been harder than some, and my challenges may have sometimes been greater than many, but I certainly did not grow from nothing.
I grew thanks in part to these great teachers and many others who taught me reading, writing, and math.
But far more importantly, they taught me how to be a good, hardworking, strategic, and focused human being.
These are always the lessons that matter most.
