It took me years to be able to write about some topics.  Even though it is no secret that I’ve been in a thirteen-year-old struggle to be the father I think a son should have, writing about this hasn’t been easy.  Quick math put Luca and me at about the 4,000th day of this journey, and I type this very post as I sit outside an office at the Probate Court in Worcester, MA.   Luca is in a room with an officer of the court who is asking him questions on behalf of our judge.  Today is the day that Luca gets to speak his mind, unaccompanied by his dad – about what his own hopes are for which parent and in which home he will spend the vast majority of his time moving forward.  It is a big day for both of us. 

He'd never been to the courthouse, and when he arrived – he nervously marveled at the number of floors, the number of courtrooms, and the statue of Moses.  He asked me how many people got life sentences in this building.  When he saw that the person he’d be meeting with was dressed in what he called “normal clothes,” he felt slightly at ease.  He went in alone, a big kid now.  Then, when he exited the office after conversing with a wad of gum in his mouth, all appeared to be fine. 

As I sat there, reflecting on Luca's journey and my own, it struck me how profoundly family dynamics and custody issues can shape a child's educational experience. It's not just about where they sleep at night; it's about the emotional and psychological baggage they carry into the classroom each and every day. 

In my 22 years in school and district administration, I've seen firsthand the ripple effects of family turmoil on children's learning and engagement. Kids like Luca, navigating the complexities of custody battles, often find themselves torn between worlds, impacting their focus, behavior, and academic performance.

But there's hope. School administrators, with a deep understanding of these family and custody dynamics, can play a pivotal role. We can't change their home situations, but we can provide stability and understanding within the school walls. We can be the consistent, caring adults these children desperately need. I've worked with countless educators and counselors who've made a real difference. By maintaining open lines of communication with both parents, respecting the boundaries set by custody agreements, and, most importantly, listening to the child, we can create an environment where they feel heard, valued, and safe.

As for Luca, his voice mattered today. He got to express his wishes, a crucial step in finding some semblance of stability and normalcy. And as his father, I've learned to respect his voice and his choices, even if it were to mean facing hard truths about what he needs and wants. I hope sharing our story encourages other school administrators to delve deeper into understanding the complexities of their students' lives outside school. It's not just about academic achievement; it's about nurturing well-rounded, emotionally healthy individuals.

As Luca and I move forward, I remain committed to applying these lessons in my personal life and my professional role, ensuring that every child under our care gets the support they need to thrive, no matter what challenges they face at home.