So I’m running home today, 5.72 miles via the 76 access roads, listening to the music I’ve always liked but now have critical approval for, and I hear this line again:

“And this is for the questions that don’t have any answers.”

It’s been a tough week. Cancer roared back into my life the week I observed a loss from 25 years ago. We’re working crazy hours to keep our students on track and grow our new school.

So much of teaching and parenting is about dealing with the questions that have no answers. How do I inspire kids? How do help my own children cope with the issues I still struggle with? How do we found a school that’s true to our own ideals and gives kids honest post-graduation choices? How do we create individual solutions for kids facing massive structural inequalities?

I can’t answer these questions — they have good and better answers — but I can try. That’s all I can do. And I can look with bemused attachment, if not compassion, at those who have believe that the truly important questions in life have easily defined answers.