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Over half my middle-aged life ago, I was gifted a copy of a poem with the title, "Man in the Glass".  I was a freshman in college trying to sort out who I was becoming, what I wanted to major in, and what motivated my impressionable sense of self.  Homesick for the identity I felt graduating high school, I burned through calling cards (that was a thing when I was in college) with a cherished gal-pal from my hometown.  We were on campuses separated by hundreds of miles and a state line.  But we called 'home' the same place, and we held up the mirror for each other in those marathon phone dates to reflect on who we were becoming in our respective new contexts. ...continue reading Reflection in Practice