Have you ever been told to “just remember your why”? Perhaps you just received an angry email from a parent questioning why his/her child had to miss recess for a misbehavior. Perhaps a child refused to follow directions and that event turned into a full blown behavior issue causing you to write an office referral. Or, perhaps, you were asked to cover another teacher’s class during your planning period – again. When any of these issues was brought to your principal’s attention, you were told, “Just remember your why!”
As a teacher for almost four decades, I can tell you that I have never forgotten “why” I became a teacher. I know that education is a gift. I know that I am responsible for sharing that gift. I know that every child can learn. I know that teaching chose me. It is who I am to the core. I am a teacher!
When someone says to “remember my why” it is insulting. It minimizes whatever situation I am dealing with. It suggests that I should just move on and that my feelings are invalid. To just “remember my why” insinuates that as a teacher, I am expected to accept whatever comes my way.
You see, I believe the overwhelming majority of those of us in education entered the field to change the lives of the children in our classrooms. We believed in the power of an education and the doors that are opened because of our education. I think the greater question is, how do I preserve my why?
I am NOT Burnt Out
I don’t like the term “burn-out”. I think it suggests that I have given up. It makes us feel powerless. But as teachers, we are far from powerless! We have control over what happens in our classrooms. We have the power to make strong, positive connections with our students. We have the power to create an environment where our students feel safe. We have the power to share the gift of education.
When we focus on the things that we can control, that alone brings great power. We have to be willing to speak up and share our knowledge of what is best for our students. We also must create an environment where expectations are set and followed.
So, no—I don’t need to “just remember my why.” I need to protect it.
Preserving our passion for teaching doesn’t mean ignoring the challenges or accepting every demand placed upon us without question. It means standing in our power—setting clear expectations, building strong relationships, and focusing on what we can control.
It means advocating for our students and ourselves. It means recognizing that our “why” isn’t something we should have to remember—it’s something we should be able to live, every single day.
So, the next time someone tells you to “just remember your why,” remind yourself of this: You never forgot it. You’re fighting for it.
