Speed in work has compensations. Speed gets noticed. Speed is praised by others. Speed is self-important. Speed absolves us. Speed means we don’t really belong to any particular thing or person we are visiting and thus appears to elevate us about the ground of our labors. When it becomes all-consuming, speed is the ultimate defense, the antidote to stopping and really looking. If we really saw what we were doing and who we had become, we feel we might not survive the stopping and the accompanying self-appraisal. So we don’t stop, and the faster we go, the harder it becomes to stop. We keep moving on whenever any form of true commitment seems to surface. Speed is also warning, a throbbing, insistent indicator that some cliff edge or other is very near, a sure diagnostic sign that we are living someone else’s life and doing someone else’s work. But speed saves us the pain of all that stopping; speed can be such a balm, a saving grace, a way we tell ourselves, in unconscious ways, that we are really not participating.

- David Whyte in Crossing the Unknown Sea

developing the skills, providing the tools, and empowering the next generation of change agents.

I create educationally meaningful learning environments for students in- and outside of the classroom environment.

Realized that twitter is the online coffee shop where you don’t feel awkward talking to the table next to you. The tables are hashtags and the conversation is open for everyone to participate, but you can (and should) do lots of sitting and listening.

The way I see it, you have to get out before you screw it up, & stay long enough for people to remember you’re still alive.

There has always been a part of me that wanted to be in marketing, making commercials and developing ad campaigns— in fact, that was my original major as an undergrad. With the recent boom of Social Media, I guess the bug is chasing me again, so here I am building my own online brand, hoping to build a following in my little corner of the world.