I'm expected to navigate a ship (the classroom environment, what I'm teaching, every member of the group's sensitivities) through a room full of ice bergs, and I can only see what's above the surface with no idea what's below. It's sometimes very difficult to ascertain students' personal sensitivities, backgrounds, and needs if I don't somehow create a space where students feel comfortable speaking to me about those elements of their personal experiences. I don't know what's below the surface, and I can't know unless students feel comfortable sharing.

Today, as I emerged with my typical two bags of groceries for the week, I rounded my usual corner to walk to the entrance to the subway, and I proceeded to nearly run into a member of the NYPD's Hercules Team. Big guy, probably my age or a little older, helmet, sunglasses, bullet-proof vest, and an automatic rifle.

Creativity is not something you do; it's something that you let come through you.

Can it be that easy? Uh huh. It can. "Doing" often prevents me from discovering, because I'm too busy to notice what's really right in front of my face.

Leaning too far forward when I try to throw a right hook functions as a larger metaphor for many things in my life. Read more to learn why.