☕ Sunday Morning Coffee: Passion Projects & Prison Classrooms
This morning, while I was having my first cup of Sunday Morning Coffee, my son-in-law and granddaughters were itching to show me a You Tube video. My son-in-law is a Gold Tech mechanic for Porsche and a racing enthusiast, and he took the girls to a race recently where Rexy and Roxy were racing (those are the two Porsche 911 GT3 Rawrs that resemble a T-Rex). Of course those cars are the girl's’ favorites. The AO recap promotional video was just released, and as they were watching it, they spotted a certain cutie at about mark 0:24 raising her Rexy stuffie in victory. You can check it out here if you want. Because Dad has a passionate interest, his girls share it. Our g-babies can spot a Porsche any where, even in a moving vehicle. As we’re traveling, I often hear a small voice pipe up from the back seat saying, “Look at that Porsche.” They have their own interests too, separate from their dad’s, but many of those are interests that are modeled by their mom, and yes, their Abuela, and their uncle… The oldest is in a racing group that races go-karts. Maybe she’ll be the first woman driver to win the Formula 1 Grand Prix some day. Who knows?
My dad was a high school football coach and my mother was a football fanatic, so every Saturday, after a Friday night game, Dad’s coaching staff was huddled around our kitchen table watching film of the previous night’s game…analyzing, plotting, and celebrating. Lots of shop talk. And of course every Sunday was spent scheduled around a Cowboys’ game. Every other Saturday might see us at a Texas Tech game. In first grade, as we were learning our alphabet, my teacher found my mom and said that when she put an H on the chalk board and asked if anyone knew what it was, I raised my hand and said, “goal post,” because the uprights back in the day DID look like the letter H. I’m not much of a football fanatic now, but as a kid, I lived and breathed it because my parents did, and it was something we could share. I didn’t end up being a football coach, but I did pursue a career as a high school teacher, and I did ‘coach’ one-act-play competitions and speech events. And I ended up following my dad’s footsteps into administration.
And, I developed a passion for art and art history. My daughter has a bachelor’s and master’s degrees in Art History. She says it’s my fault for dragging her all over the US and Europe to every museum, cathedral, and exhibit I could find when she was a kid (disclaimer: I DID warn her about getting a liberal arts degree, but she ignored that part).
I have a point, I promise.
Somewhere along the way, many of us were told—explicitly or subtly—that passion is something reserved for hobbies and weekends, not for real life or real work. We tell kids they can “be anything,” but then urge them to pick the “safe” major. We tell them to dream, but also to be “realistic.” And when they show up to school—or our classrooms behind the wire—with big, beautiful ideas about what they love and who they want to become, sometimes we don’t know what to do with all that fire.
But here’s the truth: nurturing passion is one of the most important gifts we can give a young person. And that’s true whether they're in a suburban high school, a GED program in jail, or a reentry support group in a halfway house.
Why Passion Matters
Passions are more than just interests—they’re fuel. They keep us going when the going gets rough. They give us a reason to show up, to try again, to bounce back. When we help children tap into what they love—what lights them up from the inside—we're not just helping them feel good. We're giving them the tools to set goals, build discipline, and develop the kind of grit that sticks.
And here's the kicker: kids notice what we do far more than what we say. If we tell them to pursue what they love, but we're burned out and bitter, that message doesn’t land. If we tell them to take risks, but we haven’t tried anything new in a decade, they can feel the disconnect.
So first, we have to model it. If you love photography, make time to take photos. If you're into gardening, painting, coding, restoring vintage Vespas—whatever it is—let your kids (biological or classroom) see you doing it. Let them see your joy. Let them see your struggle. Let them see that passions take work, and that they’re worth it.
Transferring That Energy to the Classroom
As educators, our superpower is making room for possibility. We don’t have to have all the answers. But we do need to create environments where curiosity can breathe.
Even in a correctional setting—maybe especially in a correctional setting—our students benefit from opportunities to explore what excites them. That might look like:
Offering choice: Letting students pick from a menu of topics to write about, read about, or present on.
Asking real questions: “What would you do if nothing was standing in your way?” “What’s something you’ve always wanted to learn?”
Bringing in mentors and professionals who look like them and have built careers around their interests—music, mechanics, carpentry, coding, culinary arts.
Creating space for passion projects: Whether it’s a small corner of the class where they can work on art, a business plan, or a rap album during free time—it matters.
And yes, correctional systems often come with their own set of “Nope, Can’t Do That” rules. But we can still get creative inside the lines. We can introduce units on career exploration that focus on who students are, not just what jobs are available. We can build writing prompts around their dreams. We can incorporate their musical tastes into literacy lessons.
When a student tells me they want to open a food truck, I don’t say, “That’s nice.” I say, “Let’s break it down. What’s your menu? How much would it cost to get started? Who would your customers be?” Passion becomes a pathway, not a side note.
When We Show Up Lit Up, They Light Up Too
Passion is contagious. So let’s model it. Let’s bring it into the classroom, even when the classroom is inside a prison. Let’s remind students that their passions aren’t foolish or frivolous—they’re the roots of resilience. And let’s remind ourselves of that too.
Because whether we’re parenting, teaching, mentoring, or rebuilding lives after incarceration, passion is part of the equation.
You don’t need permission to pursue what lights you up. And neither do our students.
I hope you pursue a passion this week, and I’ll be sure to keep you posted on whether or not either of these girls end up actually DRIVING Rexy or Roxy some day. Cheers to you and your passions! (she says as she raises her coffee cup to you).
P.S. If you want to discuss how to infuse interest exploration, choice menus, and career exploration in your classroom, or if your team needs a boost to combat burn out, contact me here.
