A few years ago, you couldn’t scroll through social media without seeing someone talking about finding your why. Teachers, leaders, and motivational speakers were all echoing Simon Sinek’s now-famous TED Talk and book, Start With Why. The concept was simple but powerful: your “why” is your purpose, your reason for getting out of bed in the morning, the deep motivation behind what you do.
For teachers, this often translated into personal mission statements—short, powerful reminders of why we chose to be here in the first place. Maybe your “why” is to ignite curiosity in young minds, to help students see the greatness within themselves, or to prepare them for a world that’s constantly changing. Your why isn’t about test scores or lesson plans—it’s about the heartbeat behind your work.
When you know your why, you don’t just survive the day—you find moments to thrive in it. It anchors you when the challenges are heavy. It gives joy permission to sneak back in on the hardest days.
So… how did “finding your why” get an unfair reputation?
Like many good ideas, the “why” movement got overused and oversimplified. It got reduced to poster slogans in PD slide decks. It started showing up as a checkbox in evaluation rubrics—“Please state your why”—as if meaning could be squeezed out on command between grading papers and answering parent emails. In some cases, it felt more like an empty corporate catchphrase than a genuine reflection.
Worse, for some teachers, it began to feel like an expectation to be endlessly positive, even when the reality of the job was crushing. That’s when people started rolling their eyes at the whole concept.
But here’s the thing—your why still matters.
We’re living through one of the most challenging times in education in decades. Teachers are navigating burnout, staffing shortages, shifting policies, and increasing demands. In times like this, our “why” isn’t a luxury—it’s a lifeline.
Your why isn’t there to gloss over the hard stuff. It’s there to remind you why the hard stuff is worth wrestling with in the first place. It’s not a tool for toxic positivity—it’s a compass. It doesn’t ignore the storms; it keeps you pointed toward your true north while you walk through them.
How to Reclaim Your Why
If the phrase “find your why” makes you cringe a little now, I get it. But maybe it’s time to give it another look—on your terms.
- Strip it back to the core
Forget the posters, forget the buzzwords. Ask yourself: If I could only accomplish one thing as a teacher, what would it be? That’s the seed of your why. - Make it yours, not your school’s
Your school has a mission statement—and that’s important—but your personal mission can be different. It’s about the unique energy and values you bring to the classroom. - Write it down and keep it visible
Put it where you’ll see it on the tough days—taped to your laptop, inside your planner, or as the background on your phone. - Let it evolve
Your why at year three of teaching might not be your why at year fifteen. Give yourself permission to update it as you grow.
Why This Matters Now
When the noise is loud—politics, policies, public perception—your why is quiet but steady. It’s the thread that ties together the lessons, the laughter, and yes, even the late nights grading.
So, let’s reclaim “finding your why” from the buzzword graveyard. Let’s remember it isn’t about endless optimism or branding ourselves for someone else’s agenda. It’s about holding on to the reason you chose this path in the first place, and letting that reason guide you when everything else feels uncertain.
Because if we, as teachers, lose sight of our why—our students just might lose sight of theirs. And that’s something we can’t afford in this moment of challenge.