I can see February turning to March and the end of the year (maybe) coming into a little focus. I think the end of my weekly blog might be doing the same thing so it is time for real talk on some real subjects that are close to my heart.

Let us start here: social justice education is not optional.

Social justice is a cornerstone of Catholic education, deeply rooted in the teachings of the Church and the mission of our schools. As a Catholic school teacher and administrator, I firmly believe that our commitment to social justice is not just a component of our educational philosophy but its very foundation. Social justice is not an add-on or an extracurricular activity; it is integral to our identity and mission.

One of the key principles of Catholic social teaching is the preferential option for the poor and vulnerable. This means that our educational practices should prioritize the needs of those who are most marginalized and disadvantaged. In our schools, this can take many forms, from providing scholarships and financial aid to ensuring that our curricula reflect diverse perspectives and experiences. By doing so, we not only open doors of opportunity for those who might otherwise be left behind but also enrich the educational experience for all students.

We must prepare students to be agents of change in the world. This involves teaching them about the social and economic injustices that persist in our society and equipping them with the knowledge and skills to address these issues. We have to help students understand the real-world implications of their studies and inspire them to act in ways that promote justice and the common good. If we are not doing this, we are wasting their time. The world needs them. 

Let us be clear about one more thing: social justice and academic excellence are not mutually exclusive. A rigorous education should challenge students to think critically about the world around them, question injustices, and seek solutions. Integrating social justice into our teaching does just that. It encourages students to apply their learning to real-world problems, fostering both intellectual growth and moral development.

Catholic education’s commitment to social justice is not about promoting a particular political agenda but about living out the Gospel values. Jesus’ ministry was marked by a profound concern for the marginalized and oppressed. We are called to guide our students to understand that faith must inspire us to action. Our teachings on social justice are deeply rooted in Scripture and the traditions of the Church, providing a moral and ethical framework that transcends political boundaries.

And our commitment to social justice fosters a sense of community and solidarity within our schools. When students, teachers, and administrators work together on service projects or advocacy initiatives, they build stronger relationships and a shared sense of purpose. This sense of community is vital for creating a supportive and nurturing educational environment.

Catholic education’s focus on social justice is a powerful expression of our faith and our mission. It challenges us to look beyond ourselves and to see the face of Christ in those we serve. It calls us to act with compassion, seek justice, and work for the common good. 

We have the privilege and the responsibility to guide our students in their journey to becoming servants to one another and stewards of a world that desperately needs them. Let us not mess this up.

Social justice is not an optional aspect of Catholic education.

I honestly believe that my relationship with teaching was the “love at first sight” kind of story.

From my first days of actual teaching back in October of 1992, when I took up residence in the Room 108 at Bishop McNamara High School, I have loved the profession.

This is not to say that I have found joy in every moment or that I have never been frustrated by the work or that I have always cherished every student I have taught.

No. There have been challenges. There have been struggles. There have been times I did not enjoy.

But the reality is that I loved being a teacher from Day One. I loved it so much that I continue to want (need?) to be in the classroom.

• I love being with students.
• I love that it keeps me feeling young.
• I love reading aloud to students.
• I love learning students’ names.
• I love a lesson that goes just right.
• I love the sense of teamwork.
• I love putting together my slideshows for class (I really do!).
• I love taking students somewhere they have never been.
• I love sharing my love of literature with students.
• I love pushing students to become better writers. 
• I love joking with students.
• I love when students joke back.
• I love it. I simply love it.

I have been blessed to be in a profession that I love for over three decades. 

I love teaching.

We interrupt this blog that typically addresses issues of educational leadership and high school teaching for this true and personal story:

Within months of the birth of my first child, the high school principal I was working for informed me that I needed to get started on my master’s degree pronto. I left that conversation with the distinct feeling that my future at the school would be in jeopardy if I did not  immediately act on this directive. Whether that was the message my principal intended to convey or not, that was the message I received. So, very grudgingly, given the sleepless nights that come with a newborn, I enrolled in a master’s program at Regis University in Denver.

With lemons into lemonade glasses firmly in place, I can now reframe this moment in my life as a blessing. I got my master’s at a time when it made a difference. I studied. I learned. I had some truly enriching classes. I even had the opportunity to partially design my own degree path. This not only increased my earning potential when I truly needed it, but it also enriched my professional life in ways I did not anticipate at the time. I have had my master’s for the better part of 25 years.

Looking back, I realize that challenging conversation was significant. While it remains an experience that informs me to handle such situations far differently as a high school principal myself, I have since become close to that principal and consider him something of a mentor.

Oh. I also used that degree to help me write a novel. 

The novel was my thesis project. It was, in fact, my third novel, but it was the first that I wrote knowing someone not related to me was going to read. It was the first upon which I received editorial feedback. It was the first of which I felt proud.

There is an educational point to this post, beyond the one I learned about ways in which to speak with those you supervise. It is that teachers and administrators need to engage themselves outside the work of the school. They need to have passions unrelated to their careers. They need to have balance. 

The hundreds of hours I have spent writing and editing and rewriting and dreaming never feel wasted, nor do they seem like time I should have spent in work pursuits. They feel important in making me who I am as a person and as an educator. They are hours I need to have in my life. 

I needed Three Corner Glen in ways I could not understand at the time. 

The completion of this novel gave me the energy and confidence to write more fiction, which I do to this day.  I submitted samples of Three Corner Glen to agents and publishers and continue to do so from time-to-time. To date, none seem particularly enamored of the work. 

A few years back, I self published the novel on Amazon. You can get a copy HERE if you like. Perhaps the jacket blurb will entice you in a way it has never enticed an editor:

“While Craig Bauman was not entirely sure he wanted to be a father when his wife Stacy broke the happy news of her pregnancy, he was certain he did not want to leave his dream job as a sports columnist in Los Angeles, was sure he did not want to move to a suburb of Denver, Colorado ridiculously named Three Corner Glen and was sure he did not want to join a group of young parents forming a babysitting cooperative.

Craig wanted to be a person of importance. Now he was going to be a dad in a babysitting club in a Denver suburb.

As he drove from LA to Denver, Craig could not anticipate that joining the Three Corner Glen Babysitting Cooperative would lead to him becoming a fixture in the burgeoning community, especially after he and some other members of the group during one of their early meetings rescued worshippers from a burning church. That event would bind him to this group of parents in an unbreakable manner and forever link their lives.

Spanning over a decade, Three Corner Glen weaves the stories of the many people in the babysitting cooperative around that of Craig Bauman in a third person omniscient narrative voice that is clever, knowing and amused by the characters and their choices. It illustrates the joys of friendship and the consequences of choices. It reminds us that we are all bound together and that our life is a shared one.”

I think you could do worse than spend a few hours yourself in Three Corner Glen. Feel free to join me there.

Schools are complex organizations in which the life experiences of hundreds of people are intertwined daily. Those experiences go far beyond what is happening on any field, stage, office, court, or classroom. Staff and students bring their lives into the school – what is going well, what is going poorly, what is making them happy, and what is making them sad. They bring the events of each night and each morning to the school. They bring hundreds of thousands of circumstances along with them.

In addition to the personal experiences and emotions everyone carries, schools are also influenced by a myriad of external factors. Weather can disrupt schedules, politics can shape the curriculum, and societal issues can permeate classroom discussions. These external forces, combined with the individual lives within the school, create a dynamic and often unpredictable environment.

In my time in schools, I have personally encountered circumstances as varied as the Olympic success of a student athlete, the 9-11 attacks, many state championships in sports, deaths of students, family members, staff, snow and cold and heat issues, physical plant difficulties, internet outages, power disruptions, COVID, floods, senior pranks, and so very much more. Each of these events were explosive to the normal functioning of the school. Each can be considered a “boom,” a moment when complexities and external pressures come to a head, creating a significant impact. It is essential for schools to be prepared for these booms, to get to the right of the boom and to be prepared for the aftermath of such events, ensuring that we are ready to respond and adapt effectively.

In order to do so, students and staff need to develop resilience. This means creating a school culture that encourages open communication, support networks, and mental health resources. Schools must have comprehensive plans in place for a range of scenarios, from severe weather to political upheavals. Importantly  and perhaps most challengingly, schools should develop flexibility in adapting to less predictable challenges. To support this, regular training and professional development for staff are crucial. Educators should be equipped with the skills to manage not just their classrooms, but also the broader social and emotional needs of their students. Building strong relationships with parents, local organizations, and community leaders can provide additional support and resources. Engaged communities are more likely to rally together in times of crisis and those crises will come. After any significant event, schools should take the time to debrief and assess what worked, what did not, and how to improve for the future.

We cannot always predict when or how the boom will come, but we can prepare ourselves to handle its impact with grace and effectiveness.

As educational leaders, our goal is to create an environment where every student and staff member feels supported, no matter what life throws at them. By being to the right of the boom, we ensure that we are not just reacting to crises, but actively preparing for and mitigating their effects. Knowing the boom is coming and preparing for it is part of serving our students well in an ever-changing world.

More times than I would like, I have been asked or coerced to share some manner of my philosophy of education. I blogged about my latest experience with this earlier in this volume of Teach and Serve when I was asked by the faculty of my new school what my goals were for the coming academic year. 

I do have answers. I think they are fairly good answers, well reasoned and based on more than a handful of years of experience in the field.

When I sift through all of the people and events that have influenced my philosophy, I center on one that I do not believe I have written of in the past. 

When I came to Regis Jesuit High School as a teacher in the fall of 1994, I was part of a very large group of new faculty. One of that cohort would become a fast friend. He and I were both English teachers and we were thrown together as co-moderators of the Student Council. John had his PhD (which he had achieved at a very young age), was a few years older than I, and already had a daughter. I was just beginning my family. My wife and his were pregnant at similar times, her with her second child and my wife with our first. They were born months apart. Both were boys. 

Sometime later, sitting around the Student Council office and dreaming as young fathers do about their sons’ futures, we discussed what were our hopes for them.

After what I am sure was some high-minded chatter, John said: “No matter what, I just want him to be a good man.” 

How could I do anything but agree that this is what I wanted for my son as well.

Because it was.

Because it is.

And this is truly what I want for all three of my now adult children. It is also what I want for the students in my charge, whether as a classroom teacher or a high school principal. 

I want our students to be good people. If they are also educated as the world understands the term, so much the better. 

There is a philosophy by which I can stand.