I walked up a flight of stairs last week – stairs that I had climbed dozens, maybe even hundreds, of times before.

The last time I went up these particular steps was in 1978.

They didn’t seem as tall as they appeared to me back then.

In fact, a two step bound seemed more like the normal elevation per leg this time.

All things seemed a little smaller as I continued my ascent and then strolled down a hallway to a library in the building.

The hallway itself felt a little tighter and less roomy. The ceiling seemed to be almost on top of my head. This same atmosphere that felt like a warehouse 23 years ago, now seemed almost as cramped as a subway train.

But Middle School 192, isn’t for people of my frame or larger.

It’s meant for smaller, more agile pre-teens as they prepare for high school and then hopefully college.

But while the physical feel of my old alma mater felt different as I continued my walk down a hallway, many things were inescapably the same.

As my guide led the way, we passed some boys who were roaming the hall using foul language, with one spitting on the floor.

Since I have been in other schools in other parts of this city, those acts were not anything that surprised me on this particular day.

On seeing this, I was at M.S. 192 for career day. I didn’t recognize the name of the school when I was invited to it, since I grew up knowing the institution as Linden Junior High.

My memories of this place were not great to say the least.

I had to learn how to fight here and that was at the cost of losing many of those battles.

As a kid of 11, 12, and 13, I was robbed and beaten in the hallways, and on the nearby streets, on a regular basis for the first two years there.

Only in the last year did my skin thicken to the point where I no longer cared about harm but more about respect.

I battled many of my tormentors to the end. For many of them, the price of a bus pass or loose change was no longer worth the aggravation of accosting me. This was part of the way of "Linden life."

The other part was a notion of what was called "academic excellence."

Under this, many students who were not just capable but smart as well, learned that there could be more for them than the life on the street — more for them than just an expanded version of the "Linden life."

There were educators there that saw me for all the potential that I had, despite the image I attempted to put out there as some know-it-all tough guy. An image, I might add, that fooled no one, especially my peers who found more amusement than fear in it.

My walk was quiet for the most part. As I looked into classes they seemed to be conducting the business of the day. I saw no pictures or boards that said "Linden" anywhere.

When I turned into the library, which was ground zero for participants in this career day, I was struck by how many people were there.

I have participated in similar sessions at other schools since my return to New York, nine-years ago. Not once was I ever asked to come to the familiar confines of M.S. 192. I’d heard that previous administrators thought something like that would have been a waste of time.

But on this day, several administrators and a few dozen professionals didn’t think it was a waste of time.

A lawyer, an engineer, postal executives, a police officer — too many careers for me to name — they all came to this patch of ground to try and lay some seeds of inspiration for these kids.

M.S.192 is now called the Renaissance School and for good reason. After years of neglect, under a zoo-keeping management style, a new group of administrators decided to reach out to kids.

They are administrators who can show students where they can be years down the line with some planning, support and desire.

A renaissance doesn’t happen overnight or in a vacuum. I believe with help from the adults in this community, no matter what the social/economic standing, a true rebirth can take place not just at 192, but at all of our schools.

Yes, more money would fuel the ship of that cause, but without that little rudder called guidance, the education of our children will still run in circles.

Step in to steady the ship and help the renaissance. No experience necessary.