I can admit it to myself: I'm anxious. Nervous, really. Several months ago, a conversation evolved among the turtles of various traditions the humans use to signify adulthood. When I suggested that we have a rite of passage ourselves, they eagerly embraced the idea. They have fervently awaited tonight's ceremony, and we have set aside these daytime hours to meditate and prepare.

At some point Michelangelo had suggested that I "crown" each with personalized ninja bandanas, an idea which was generally scoffed at...but I've secretly decided to use that idea. They became teenagers today, which is a time of finding one's own identity, and they will need this small token of their individuality.

Raphael will wear red, symbolizing the fiery passion that he brings to all areas of his life. Leonardo's color is blue, like the water: able to keep a calm surface under adversity, yet with an unseen powerful undercurrent. Donatello's rich purple symbolizes the creativity he studiously brings to his offbeat projects. Michelangelo will proudly wear orange...the color of cheddar cheese pizza.

Change is inevitable, and should be embraced. I have not yet mastered this lesson. Since all four are eager to pursue ninjitsu, this ceremony will change my title in the family to "sensei." I'd like to know how many other "senseis" have held their students after a nightmare and prepared Christmas stockings, but in this area I will attempt to submit to my sons' needs.

But I procrastinate. The focal point of this entry must be the decision I am forced to make. Leadership is a cultural universal-one turtle must be my second-in-command to keep the team focused and give orders in battle. None of them are ready for this task. How can I judge them, however, when I am still not fully ready to be a father-pardon me, sensei-to four adolescent turtles? Truly, great leaders tend to have leadership thrust upon them.

Donatello's intuitive reasoning makes him invaluable during missions, and he will be called on to save his brothers from many challenging situations. His empathetic nature makes him a natural peacemaker among his brothers. He is extremely introverted, and he has not yet shown the self-confidence required to make a decision in the heat of battle. Rather than exert himself in an authoritarian manner, his strengths are just as important: to follow orders immediately and without question, and sacrifice himself for his team if need be.

Michelangelo's strong points are often overlooked because of his status as "class clown," but I perceive that his jokes are a defense mechanism. He keeps the atmosphere light to distract himself from the pain of not having what other adolescents have. I will need to continue to channel his disappointment. His irreverent demeanor does not detract from his courage, intelligence, and genuine love for life.

Which brings me down to...Raphael and Leonardo. I am still debating this question, and the ceremony is in four hours. They have rivaled for this position for months, which makes me hesitant about choosing either one of them.

Leonardo is by far the most disciplined of my sons, rising early for meditation and training. He is able to think clearly under stress, taking the burden of dangerous situations upon himself, and is also able to analyze quickly and send a brother into danger if need be. He takes his craft very seriously, and I swell with pride to see him in action. I love him exactly as he is, and I wish he would stop working so hard to earn my approval when he already has it. However, his abrupt, priggish manner in issuing commands can make his brothers hesitant in carrying them out. He follows the rulebook too literally, lacking the intuition to apply its wisdom as needed. Sometimes I sense that he is working too hard on showing a persona to the world, when even leaders need to occasionally admit vulnerability and ask for help.

Raphael is strong, bold, and loyal to the death. I sense that he wants to die in blazing glory on the battlefield, and therefore can be restless when it comes to the ordinary disciplines of everyday life. He would die any death to save his brothers, but would he live for them? Raphael has a quick, perceptive intuition, and he can identify others' thoughts and motivations. However, he tends to focus on the negatives in others, which fuels an anger that I have not been able to channel. His righteous outrage is useful in his fight against evil, but there is other anger as well...anger that his origins are a byproduct of radioactive waste, and that he would be judged so harshly by a world that he so desires to help. The way he carries himself is majestic to see, and I acutely feel his absence when he disappears for days at a time.

I fear for Leonardo and Raphael's relationship, soon to be under the added strain of one giving orders to the other. They are more similar than they would ever admit: equally passionate, one embraces the rulebook and the other detests it. Leonardo was creating his own lessons by the time he was ten, requiring minimal supervision, while I stayed with Raphael during the entirety of his. Raphael knew that I was working him harder than the others, yet has never spoken about it; I wanted to chisel him into the best warrior he could possibly be, also funneling his rage into an acceptable craft, and also—frankly—exhausting him from creating plans to leave our lair and branch out on his own. Every time he brings up the subject, my blood chills…yet my stoic reaction must be maintained…hopefully this is a teenager phase.

It is an ironic fact that leaders tend to be drawn toward the student who needs the most guidance. While I have three turtles that immediately respond "Yes, sensei," I am focused on the one that does not respond. What intervention can I use to bring him into the fold? How can I let him know that I understand his opinions, but that he must continue to improve himself? I smell mozzarella cheese. Hamato Yoshi's input would be invaluable during this time. I still miss him, and wish we had known each other in my mutated state. My turtles would have loved their grandfather.

Michelangelo must have ordered pizza to further his meditative abilities. I can smell all the impurities in it, the preservatives and the hormones from the cow's milk. Pepperoni does not sit well with me either—I would prefer a vegetarian lifestyle. I have never mentioned this to my students. Whenever I smell cheese, I think of Yoshi. I remember the harshest lesson he ever taught me. Late in my training, he timed me running mazes to the find the cheese…over, and over, and over again. I was angry (realizing later that my feelings were hurt) because running mazes was such a basic lesson that I had mastered a long time ago. What was he getting at? Each time, I ran to a different type of cheese: some were heavenly, some were moldy, sometimes it was only a crumb.

Then the hunger began. He did not feed me for hours at a time, then a day. I felt weak, I couldn't see well, but I finished my tasks. Finally, one day, he put me back in my usual cage. "Let that be a lesson to you, young sir," he whispered affectionately, rubbing his finger behind my ears the way I liked. It felt so good; I'd missed it so much. "Favoritism has no place with a ninja," he continued. "You must make decisions according to what is needed, and follow orders as your sensei commands. Your lesson was not finished until all your running times were equal, no matter what the prize was at the end."

No…

I cannot allow my preferences to influence a decision that will affect all of my sons for the rest of their lives. Raphael has a strong potential to become a great leader, but he is not a leader presently. Leonardo currently has leadership attributes, and must learn to present himself more effectively.

I will need to channel my favoritism.