We're starting a six-week series highlighting the heroic work counselors do in our high schools and sharing some insight and resources to help them. A few years ago, when I was a principal in Florida, I had to walk into my counseling office and ask my team to take on one more thing. I don't remember the exact initiative anymore (Florida has never met an unfunded mandate it didn't love), but I remember exactly how it felt to ask. My counselors were already drowning. Caseloads

For a long time, most of us have leaned on a familiar definition of what it means to be educated: strong grades, following directions, working hard, collecting credentials, moving successfully through the system. If a kid was responsible, articulate, and academically capable, we took that as proof they were ready for what came next. That definition doesn't hold up anymore. I'm not saying knowledge or discipline or academic effort stopped mattering — they still matter a lot. B

By this point in the series, some of us may be thinking: okay. I get the framework. Adaptability, building, communication. That all makes sense. But what am I actually supposed to do with this? That's the right question. Because if this series only helps us agree with the diagnosis, and never changes how we actually parent, it isn't worth much. The goal was never to rethink education philosophically for the sake of it. The goal is to make smarter choices now, while there's st

Sebastian walked into our first session with a very clear answer to that question. Formula 1. Data. Analytics. He'd been watching races since he was eight, had strong opinions about pit stop timing, and had started teaching himself Python on the side. When we started talking about a capstone project, he didn't need much convincing. He wanted to build a system, a real one, that could analyze race data and model strategy decisions: tire degradation, weather conditions, safety c

One of the most ridiculous things I have seen in my career in education is the push to have kids doing career exploration and planning as early as sixth grade. I get why it’s done, but it’s fanciful at best and a waste of valuable time, energy, and resources that does way more harm than good at worst. The assumption is this: by a certain age, a student should have a pretty clear plan of a career so they can get trained to work their life in an industry that will provide a dec

Us adults often hear the word communication and think of something fairly basic: Speak clearly. Make eye contact. Write a decent email. Do not be rude in an interview. Those things matter, of course. But in the age of AI, communication is becoming much bigger than that. Communication is not just about presentation, or confidence, or sounding polished, or a firm handshake. Communication is the ability to think clearly enough to express something real, ask better questions, col

A lot of parents still assume that if their child gets strong grades, joins a few clubs, and stays busy, they are building a strong future. That used to be a much safer assumption than it is now. Grades still matter. Activities still matter. But more and more, students need something those traditional markers do not always show very well: evidence that they can actually make, do, solve, create, or contribute in the real world. That is what I mean by building. And no, I do not

We want kids to be resilient. We say. We want them to handle stress, recover from setbacks, solve problems, and function well in the real world. Nobody wants a student to be fragile. And yet, a lot of loving, thoughtful adults accidentally do things that make adaptability harder to build, not because they are careless, but exactly because they care. That is what makes this tricky. When a child is overwhelmed, stuck, disappointed, or anxious, the natural instinct is to help qu

For years, many politicians and parents have operated with a simple assumption: the earlier a student finds their lane, the better. Pick a direction, get serious, build a resume around it, and avoid looking scattered. That logic is understandable, and it can still make sense. Depth, skill, and commitment still matter, but those promises of stability through STEM seem more elusive now, and families are really feeling it. In a world shaped by AI, rapid change, and less predicta

We all know that riding out a weather day, navigating a cancelled event, or following an early release schedule aren’t really signs of adaptability, but that’s what many schools take as proof of mastering this vital competency by graduation. We say we want our kids to be flexible. We say we want them to be resilient. We say we want them to be able to handle change. But what does that actually mean in real life, especially for a teenager who is trying to grow up in a world tha

TW: This is not an attack on “kids today”. This is not an attack on parents. A kid who turns things in on time, and who follows directions. They are respectful, and they do what is asked…the first time. They know how to function inside the system and have great grades This is what we have always been told to want, whether at home or in the classroom. That is exactly why the problem can be so hard to spot. Some of the students who look the most successful in traditional sch

A lot of parents and educators are looking around and not recognizing exactly what we see. A lot of us are carrying around a feeling we have not quite put into words yet. Our students are doing what school has asked of them. They are earning decent grades, staying out of trouble, checking boxes, and looking like a responsible kid. On paper, things seem fine. But underneath that, we’re still feeling uneasy. That uneasiness makes sense. As a longtime principal and coach, I alwa