by Mark Erlenwein
(Special thanks to Dr. Lavie Margolin and John ‘Poz’ Pozarowski for the fun interview on Episode 261 of “The Business of the Business” podcast, which inspired writing this article.)
If you had told four-year-old me, perched on my father’s shoulders outside Madison Square Garden, waiting to rub WWF champion, Bob Backlund’s crew-cut hair as he left through the backstage door, that one day I’d grow up to be a principal whose educational philosophy was shaped by professional wrestling, I probably would have body-slammed you. Not out of anger; just sheer disbelief that the wild world I saw on those late-night WWF broadcasts would one day become the blueprint for how I’d run a school.
But here I am, principal of Staten Island Technical High School (SITHS – yes, like and of Star Wars fame), 2022 New York State Principal of the Year, longtime educator… and lifelong wrestling fan whose leadership style owes as much to the McMahon’s as it does to Danielson, Dewey, or Marzano.
It started in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, in the late ’70s, when WWF Championship Wrestling aired at midnight on Channel 9 WWOR TV. I vividly remember being four or five years old, eyes glued to the TV as Afa and Sika, the Wild Samoans teeth gnashed and tore into a slab of raw fish like it was a formal entrée. I didn’t know what I was watching, but I knew it mattered. It felt alive. It felt unpredictable. It felt like the coolest, strangest thing a kid could possibly witness past bedtime.
My dad noticed my obsession and did what great dads do, he fueled the fire. Every month he’d take me to Madison Square Garden for the monthly WWF shows. We’d stand outside afterward, him hoisting me up to watch Backlund emerge in his three-piece suit, manager Arnold Skaaland trailing behind. If you were lucky, you got to rub the champion’s hair, which to me was roughly equivalent to touching the Stanley Cup and Santa Claus all at once.
Those nights at the Garden imprinted something deep in me: Spectacle matters. Ritual matters. Story matters. And most importantly: Moments matter.
I didn’t know it then, but I was learning the rudimentary foundations of leadership.
The Teacher Era (Attitude Era Included)
Fast forward to 1997. I returned to Staten Island Tech, my alma mater, as a young science teacher during the height of WWE’s Attitude Era. And if you were a high school teacher in the late ’90s, you know exactly what that meant:
- Students cross chopping their arms at waist length, screaming “S_ _ k It” to each other and nobody at the same time in the hallways.
- Random shouts of “WHAT?” at completely inappropriate times.
- The Rock’s catchphrases permeating every assignment, conversation, and lab report.
- Wrestling shirts everywhere you looked.
And suddenly, magically, my fandom became my bond with students.
I didn’t hide it; I wore it proudly. Literally. I wore the shirts. I told the stories. Every Tuesday morning was “What happened last night on Monday Night Raw?” day. Students hung on every detail, not because I was special, but because I was relatable. That was the secret sauce. Isn’t it always?
And then something else happened; parents trusted me.
Trusted me enough to let me take a handful of students to wrestling events outside of school, particularly ECW shows at the Hammerstein Ballroom and in Philly. Yes, the same ECW whose fan base was one steel chair away from rioting at all times. These were different times with different expectations, but those nights forged lifelong relationships. Two of those students, Adam McCauley and Eric Hoff, have become and are still close friends today. We were there together for the last two ECW events at Hammerstein Ballroom. Years later, I saw them again at SummerSlam and AEW events, this time with their kids.
Three generations of wrestling fans bonded by the shared craziness and insanity of professional wrestling. That’s not pop culture. That’s community.
From the Ring to the Principal’s Office
In 2013, I became principal of Staten Island Tech. And the moment I sat in that chair, I knew exactly what kind of school I wanted to run:
A school that felt like must-see TV.
A school that had storylines, not just schedules.
A school where kids never knew when something magical might happen next.
A school that was, as I often say, “can’t miss.”
Where did this vision come from?
The same place where all great idea-stealing originates: wrestling!
1. Entrance Music Matters
The first change I made as principal? I eliminated the bells. Nothing kills energy like a factory buzzer telling you when to learn.
Instead, I replaced it with theme music, a curated playlist of nine different songs each day. And yes, sometimes those songs were the The Rock’s theme, Walls of Jericho, Stone Cold’s glass shatter on 3:16 day, or a classic theme designed to make students smirk on their way to Algebra II.
Wrestlers don’t walk into the ring without music.
Why should students walk into class without it?
2. The Visual Spectacle Matters
Walk into Staten Island Tech on any given day and you might see:
- Flashing lights
- Smoke & Snow machines
- Popcorn and waffle aromas in the hallways
- Eight-to-thirteen foot inflatables and figures
- Holiday-themed displays
- Wrestling & Star Wars (We are S.I.T.H.S) memorabilia
- A seagull mascot that may or may not have Hulk Hogan’s arms
And yes, I’ve been known to tear off a shirt Hulk-Hogan-style to reveal a “Techamania” tee underneath. (Most recently to promote our upcoming Homecoming football game – click here to view.)
This isn’t chaos. It’s intentional design.
Wrestling taught me that students need memorable experiences. School shouldn’t feel punitive; it should feel like a unitive event.
3. Storytelling Matters (So We Built a TV Studio)
Every 9th grader at Staten Island Tech takes a mandatory TV Studio Production course. Not because I want everyone to be the next Roman Reigns, or Rock, but because:
In life (circa 2025 and moving forward), you must tell your story.
On camera.
Clearly.
Creatively.
Confidently.
Our early-morning show, The Early Bird, films 160 episodes a year at 8:15 a.m. each morning, where the students run the cameras, the teleprompter, the switcher, the lighting, the audio, the graphics—everything. It’s our own Stanford-Meets-Staten Island Tech hybrid, minus the pyros (for now).
4. Promos Matter (So We Built a Course for That Too)
Another requirement: Talknology. Not “technology”—“talknology.”
A course built around Voice21’s – oracy, and Bob Wolf’s HOPE™ Skills curriculum :
- First impression
- Interpersonal
- Communication
- Presentation
- Selling
It’s wrestling promo school in disguise.
Because whether you’re applying to college, pitching an idea, interviewing for a job, or explaining why your experiment exploded in Chemistry, the ability to speak and connect is a superpower.
Wrestling performers, superstars or sports entertainers, whatever you call them, they understand this better than anyone. So do my students.
Why Kids Connect Differently Now
(High School) Kids today don’t have the same wrestling fandom we did. It’s not their fault. The world changed. Entertainment fragmented into a thousand competing universes: YouTube, gaming, Marvel, TikTok, AI-generated content, algorithms personalized down to the molecule.
Back in the day, if you wanted heroes, villains, entrances, feuds, storylines, triumphs, betrayals, and spectacle… wrestling was one of the primary games in town.
Now? Everything is everywhere, all at once.
So I weave wrestling’s best elements—not the fandom itself—into the DNA of Staten Island Tech:
- Spectacle
- Surprise
- Story
- Character
- Heart
- Humor
- Humanity
Those never go out of style.
Leadership, Sports Entertainment Style
Every now and then, the opportunity presents itself to cut a wrestling promo. I never turn down the opportunity.
I’ve stood on the football field dressed Hogan-esque, tearing off a shirt to reveal a Techamania tee underneath, finishing with:
“What you gonna do… when Techamania runs wild on YOU?”
Is it ridiculous?
Yes.
Do students love it?
I hope … even though the reference went beyond some of their relatability.
Does it build connection?
Always.
Because here’s the truth professional wrestling taught me:
People don’t follow titles.
People follow characters.
People follow heart.
People follow someone who shows up—fully, authentically, unapologetically.
Why It Still Matters
Every decision I make as principal, every program, every class, every assembly, every hallway display, every inflatable, every theme song chosen … is about one thing:
Creating moments that matter.
Moments that are learned, not assigned.
Moments students tell stories about 25 years later.
Moments a kid remembers when deciding whether school is a place for them or a place they simply go.
I learned that from wrestling.
Wrestling made school feel like home for me.
Wrestling gave me a bond with my students.
Wrestling taught me how to lead with energy, authenticity, and humor.
Wrestling taught me that if you want people to care, you need to make them feel something.
And maybe, just maybe, some future principal is out there right now, watching wrestling with their family, attending live shows, or bonding with a teacher who “gets it,” unknowingly gathering the tools they’ll someday use to make their school a place where students feel seen, understood, and inspired.
As for me?
Well… as the kids say:
School’s not just a place you go.
It’s a show you’re part of.
And every day at Staten Island Tech, the show goes on … Then, Now, Forever … Together!
(Special thanks to Dr. Lavie Margolin and John ‘Poz’ Pozarowski for the fun interview on Episode 261 of “The Business of the Business” podcast, which inspired writing this article.)
MarkErlenwein.com 