The First Last

On Sunday, July 13, after a hard-fought win, our oldest son, Patrick Ricca, finished his last-ever AAU basketball game. It took place in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, at Spooky Nook. There was no fanfare, flowers, or pictures of parents at center court before the game started. He finished the weekend tournament averaging more than 13 points, 4.6 assists, just over 3 rebounds, and more than 3 forced turnovers per game. We walked out of the gym and returned to the hotel, where Patrick showered, while I packed. We loaded the car and headed back home. 

It was somewhere on the Jersey Turnpike that it hit me: this is the first last. Patrick is a rising senior. This is a year that will be filled with "lasts." The last high school fill-in-the-blank. We had our first of those already this summer: his last AAU basketball game. 

I'm unsure how we are in a place in our parenting where there's a last anything prior to college. You see, regardless of his age, this is often how I see Patrick in my heart and in my mind's eye: 

For the record, this is how he actually looks today: 

He's on the verge of realizing a dream he articulated more than five years ago: to play college basketball. The next several months will see us navigating the beginning of his senior year while attempting to finalize his college plans. It will undoubtedly be stressful, challenging, and nerve-wracking. 

It will also be full of lasts. And I don't want to miss one. The first one snuck up on me. I don't want any others to slip past the goalie. 

One of the greatest joys in my life is being this guy's Dad. And his brother's. Watching what comes next will be bittersweet, and I want to savor every moment in this coming year. 

Full of lasts, before his next transition. 

#ProudDad

Leadership Means Standing in the Storm

Over the past year, I’ve found myself in a deeply reflective moment—one that many educational leaders may quietly recognize, but few speak about openly. As a superintendent, I’ve learned that leadership often means standing in the storm—even when the skies are clear and the forecast suggests smooth sailing ahead.

In public education, we serve four key constituencies: first and foremost, our students. Then, the educators and staff who bring our schools to life. After that, the families and communities we serve. Finally, our official employers—school committees and municipal officials.

Balancing the needs of all four groups is no small feat. A student-centered decision may frustrate staff. A teacher-focused approach can leave families feeling unheard. Addressing the diverse needs of families is as complex as it sounds. And of course, elected officials bring their own goals and pressures to the table. This dynamic isn’t a flaw in the system—it’s the system itself. And it requires leadership rooted in clarity, humility, and resolve.

My time in East Greenwich was marked by real accomplishments. We improved educator compensation, prioritized long-term facilities planning, and consistently made decisions that kept students at the center of our work. I’m proud of these achievements. But leadership isn’t just about the decisions we make—it’s about how those decisions are experienced. Sometimes, the discomfort that comes with change isn’t a sign of failure—it’s a sign that something meaningful is happening.

Many of the tensions I encountered weren’t due to missteps, but rather the natural friction of transformation. Positive change creates discomfort by its very nature. It’s not a reason to retreat, but a signal to lean in and stay engaged.

Some of the most powerful moments of leadership don’t come from certainty, but from growth—especially when that growth happens in full view of the community. For me, leadership means embracing transparency—telling the truth, owning your part, and being open to feedback. It’s an approach I’ve carried with me throughout my career and one I continue to commit to.

As I reflect on this chapter, several key lessons stand out:

• Communication is ongoing—it must be consistent, reciprocal, and responsive to how it’s being received by all constituencies.
• Change is most successful when co-created, not just handed down from the top.
• Listening is a leader’s most underappreciated skill.

If you’ve ever led through complexity, this message is for you. Not every storm is of our own making. But leadership is ultimately defined by how we show up when the clouds gather. I remain deeply committed to public education, to building trust, and to a leadership grounded in honesty, integrity, and hope.

This isn’t the end of my journey—it’s a pivotal chapter. A chapter I’m learning and growing through, carrying with me into the next phase of my work.

I’m proud of what we accomplished together in East Greenwich, including:

• Voter approval of a $150 million school construction bond, the largest in district history, which will fund a new Frenchtown Elementary School, renovations at Hanaford Elementary, and major upgrades to East Greenwich High School.

• My role as co-chair of the School Building Committee, ensuring the bond process was transparent, fiscally responsible, and aligned with long-term educational goals.

• Celebrating East Greenwich High School’s five-star accountability rating and launching a district-wide facilities assessment to guide future investments.

These accomplishments reflect what’s possible when school leadership, educators, and the community collaborate with a shared vision. It’s the kind of work I hope to continue—in service to students and in partnership with those who believe in the transformative power of public education.

There will be more storms ahead. But you’ll find me standing strong, committed to working alongside all of my constituents to ensure that we all come out of the storm better than we went in.

Photo courtesy of Adobe Stock