I used to dismiss social media entirely based on what I had observed on Facebook, which struck me as a platform for self-indulgent pseudo-celebrity, vulgarity and attention grabs. Then a colleague turned me on to the notion of developing a PLN (Professional Learning Network) on Twitter.  Here was an opportunity to connect with likeminded teachers, administrators, and researchers who shared my passion for teaching and learning.

Twitter affords us a great tool for publicly celebrating achievements for our teachers and students, even if the latter tend to be disproportionately represented with pictures of the back of their heads. I know the world is not all rainbows and lollipops, but at least we can convey a consistently positive message and encourage others to do the same.

One decision I made that I still question is that I did not separate my professional and personal Twitter accounts. @MichaelPortas is my platform to share moments as a parent, educator, writer, and runner. Too much? Do the same people who follow my postings on literacy instruction care at all about my distance runs that are part of my #wellnessgoals? Hopefully. Maybe? Probably not. Are these posting better suited for Facebook, which I visit on a bimonthly basis? Better kept to myself?

A weekend afternoon trip to Starbucks with my oldest son helped provide some clarity on this question, and greater insight into parenting. Andrew (17) has navigated the transition from being enthralled with everything I said because I’m Dad, to being disengaged with everything I said for the same reason, to now being able to converse meaningfully on a wide variety of topics including music, politics, sports, and school . I believe he is now equipped for adulthood though because he has developed the ability to feign interest in such a way that I can’t tell if he’s bluffing or genuinely interested.

After we sat down with our respective Teavana and Pike Place orders, I scanned through my Twitter feed. As I looked for an article to read, I said “That’s awesome” out loud. Andrew’s look conveyed what I took to be interest so I added, “This guy I follow PR’d (personal record) his run today.” Andrew runs track and of the four people with whom I share a home is the only one who is ever remotely interested in my runs so when he made the chin-scrunched-eyebrows-arched face to indicate “well done,” I felt compelled to continue. I turned my phone to show him the image, which included the runner’s splits and overall time, and Andrew said “That’s pretty good.” Now, Andrew Portas will never meet Scott Wisniewski, but he recognized the accomplishment of another runner/school administrator and that it meant something to me. I was impressed by and proud of my peer. I realize I lost Andrew when I went on about the #RunLAP (Run Like a Pirate) hashtag and cut bait on the conversation, but that one minute or so was really important to me.

It matters to me to share my running experiences. I’m certainly not showing off, as my times will clearly indicate, nor am I seeking affirmation. Rather, I hope to inspire other educators to stay focused on their own wellness goals. When my colleagues open conversations with “Did you get out yesterday?” or justify their own slow times with “Yeah, but my time was faster than the guy sitting on his couch,” I feel like I’m part of a greater team of people looking out for one another and taking care of themselves.

Whether my blood sugar numbers are elevated, or I’ve had a decidedly unpleasant day, or just need to be alone with my thoughts and a Pearl Jam playlist, running has become my outlet and the educator in me wants to inspire others to follow suit. I want to help. I don’t know completely why that matters; I just know that it does.