Why “Compelled”? The Story Behind the Word That Guides My Work

Words matter.

They shape our beliefs, guide our choices, and clarify who we want to become.

For years, people have asked me why my blog is called The Compelled Educator, and why compelled became the word I chose to build my work, my writing, and my leadership around. It’s a strong word. A directional word. A word that points you toward action.

And the story behind it goes all the way back to the softball field.

Where It Started: A Coaching Lesson I Never Forgot

Before I was a principal, a speaker, or a character coach, I was a high school teacher and softball coach. I loved the years of coaching. The strategy, the competition, the laughter, the team bonding, and the chance to help young women grow not just as athletes, but as people.

At a coaching clinic I attended early in my career, I got to hear Jeff Janssen speak about his framework called the Commitment Continuum. Jeff Janssen is the author of several books, including Championship Team Building, Seven Secrets of Successful Coaches, and the Team Captain's Leadership Manual. While Championship Team Building and Seven Secrets of Successful Coaches were written over 20 years ago, their message is timeless and still applicable today!

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In The Team Captain’s Leadership Manual, he describes the framework as a tool to help captains, coaches, and leaders recognize the range of mindsets and levels of commitment present on any team, because you can’t lead people well if you don’t first understand where they are.

If you’re not familiar with it, Janssen maps out six levels of commitment, showing how people move from resisting and reluctant on one end, all the way to compelled on the other.

• Resistant
• Reluctant
• Existent
• Compliant
• Committed
• Compelled

In coaching, I saw every level.

Players who were simply existing. Others who complied because that’s what the team required. Some who were committed and would give you everything they had.

But then — there were the few who were different.

The ones who didn’t need reminders.

Didn’t need pushing.

Didn’t wait for the energy to appear in the room — they brought it.

They were driven by something deeper.

Not pressure.

Not rules.

Not expectation.

Something internal.

Something almost unexplainable.

They were compelled.

And I remember thinking to myself, That’s it. That’s the level that changes teams. That’s the level that changes people.

The Word That Stuck With Me

It showed up in the leaders I served alongside as an administrator. It showed up in the educators I’ve had the privilege to mentor. And it showed up in school teams I’ve coached through the Hope Institute -- the ones who didn’t need someone to tell them how important the work was, because they already felt it deeply.

It showed up in the students who surprised everyone, not because they had to, but because they wanted to. Because something inside them said:

“This matters. Let me be part of it.”

And eventually, when I started writing publicly, I realized something:

The kind of educator I wanted to be, and the kind of leaders I hoped to encourage, were not people who were simply good at their jobs.

They were people driven by purpose.

People moved from within.

People guided by their values.

People who felt called to act, to serve, to grow, to make things better.

They were compelled.

So that’s what I named the blog.

Not because it sounded nice or unique.

But because it captured the heart of what I believe great leadership — and great education — is built on.

What It Means to Be Compelled

Being compelled isn’t about perfection.

It isn’t about endless energy or always knowing the next right step.

It’s about something deeper.

It’s about a sense of purpose that pulls you forward.

A belief in doing what’s right, even when no one is watching.

A desire to serve others because it’s who you are, not because it’s required.

Compelled people are internally motivated.

They take initiative.

They notice what needs to be done and step into it.

They don’t wait to be asked.

And perhaps most importantly…

They lead not from obligation, but from conviction.

That’s the kind of educator, leader, and mentor I strive to be.

That’s the kind of leadership I want to cultivate in others.

That’s the heartbeat behind everything I write and share.

Still Compelled After All These Years

It’s been many years since I stood on a softball field with a bucket of balls and a sun-faded lineup card tucked under my arm. But the lessons from those days long ago, and from the Commitment Continuum, still follow me.

And they still guide me.

Every blog post.

Every workshop.

Every podcast episode.

Every coaching conversation.

Every decision in moments of transition.

Because I believe this deeply:

Education needs compelled leaders now more than ever. Education needs leaders who don’t just respond to the moment, but rise to it.

That’s why I write.

That’s why I coach.

That’s why I lead.

And that’s why this space is called The Compelled Educator.

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Hope, Healing, and a New Chapter in the Work I Love

A New Season and A Renewed Mission

One thing life continues to teach me is that our stories rarely unfold the way we script them. Instead, they move in seasons. Some are joy-filled, some are challenging, and some quietly reshape us from the inside out.

As many of you know, I retired from Hoover High School on July 1. When I re-joined Hoover in 2023, I fully expected to stay much longer. I loved the work, the people, the students, the culture. My two years there were rich with connection and purpose, and I still carry those relationships with deep gratitude.

But when my parents’ needs increased, I knew my plans had to shift. Stepping away from Hoover was not easy, but it was the right decision. It was a values-aligned decision. And because of that choice, I received one of the greatest gifts of my life: the chance to be with my mom during her final months.

ICYMI: Lessons from My First Teacher - My Mom

Those days were filled with laughter, stories and quiet moments, with a kind of presence that only becomes possible when everything else is laid down. I will forever be grateful for that time. And now, I’m thankful for these days with my dad as he navigates his own health journey.

This season has brought my core leadership beliefs into even sharper focus. Not long ago, I spoke with a group of master’s students about the Nine Essentials for Creating an Exceptional Culture, and I shared a truth that has guided me for years:

When your values are clear, your decisions become easier, even when they are hard.

Settling Back Into Work I Love

When I retired, it was also shared publicly that I would be returning to the Hope Institute as a Senior Character Coach. Now that some time has passed, it feels right to share a bit more about what this season has felt like and the work I’m grateful to do again.

Returning to Hope Institute isn’t a new beginning so much as a continuation. It's a return to meaningful, mission-driven work that has always felt like home. Supporting school leaders and helping schools strengthen their culture through character development is work that stirs me. It challenges me. It fulfills me.

And in this season of personal transition, it has been an anchor.

Communities of Character: Season 4

Another bright spot has been restarting the Communities of Character podcast. After taking a pause during a year of doctoral work, principalship, family, and transition, pressing “record” again felt both vulnerable and energizing.

And y'all, the guests this season have been incredible.

They’ve shared stories of courage, resilience, service, and leadership that have strengthened my own heart. Their insights remind me why this work matters, why character matters, and why community is so essential in every space we lead.

I can’t wait for you to hear each conversation.

Lessons I’m Carrying Into This Season

As the holiday season approaches, I'm reminded that it is a time of gratitude, reflection, and slowing down. I’ve found myself holding onto a few lessons this chapter has reinforced:

Gratitude changes everything.

Even in grief. Even in transition. Even in the unknown. There are blessings tucked into every corner when we pause to look for them.

Patience is a form of strength.

It asks us to breathe, to trust, and to release our timeline in exchange for a bigger one we can’t yet see.

Faith steadies us.

It reminds us that we never walk alone, even in seasons that stretch us.

Your core values will always tell the truth.

When life becomes noisy, values become a compass: quiet, steady, and clear.

Moving Forward With Hope

I miss Hoover greatly. I miss the kids, the staff, the rhythms of school life, and the joy of leading alongside incredible educators. But I also know this is exactly where I’m meant to be right now.

This is a season of caring, of guiding, of rebuilding, of listening, of serving. And I’m grateful. I'm deeply grateful for how the story is unfolding.

Thank you for continuing to walk alongside me. Thank you for reading, listening, and encouraging. And thank you for believing, as I do, that character and compassion can change not just schools, but lives.

Here’s to this season, and the next one, too.

Lessons From My First Teacher - My Mom

When I think about my mom, I don’t first think of the milestones or the holidays, though there were many special ones. I think of the mornings.

I think of the sound of her moving through the house before anyone else was awake... quiet but steady, like the rhythm that kept our family’s time. As a kid, during the school year, she would have breakfast ready for my sister and me, and we had to sit at the table together each morning and eat breakfast before school. During the summers, I would wake up to her being gone, and I knew that she was out picking blackberries or already working in the yard. 

My mom believed in the power of routine long before “morning habits” became a buzzword. She called herself a “domestic engineer,” and she approached every day with purpose.

Each morning, she made her bed, a small act of order that seemed to set the tone for her whole day. She always got dressed for the day - sometimes in sweats and tennis shoes, but always ready. And she made sure I was ready, too.

Every night before bed, she’d remind me to pick out my clothes for the next day. Then, in the mornings, I’d hear her voice from down the hall: “Jennifer! Make your bed!”

At the time, I didn’t realize she was teaching me something bigger than how to keep a tidy room. She was showing me how preparation and consistency could shape a life. Those simple habits became the foundation for who I am today: someone who values doing things well and making the most of each day.

Mom also nurtured my love for learning. When I was in late elementary and junior high school, she would take my sister and me to the library so we could check out books. I can still remember the tall bookshelves and the quiet calm where I was allowed to choose any book. I read all sorts of topics and tales, each one creating curiosity and a thrill for learning.

Looking back, I see now that she was planting the seeds for a lifelong love of reading. It has been something that has brought me so much joy, learning, and connection throughout my life.

One of her lessons that I’ve carried with me the longest came during my first retail job in college. She told me,

“The person in front of you is always more important than the person at the end of the phone line.”

That one sentence has stuck with me all these years, and I’ve shared it with my daughters, too.

Even though my mom couldn’t have imagined the world we live in now, with smartphones, texts, and social media, I think her wisdom is more important than ever. It’s so easy to be distracted, but she reminded me to be present… to look people in the eye… to give my full attention to whoever is standing right in front of me.

Integrity was also one of my mom’s core values. She didn’t just talk about it; she lived it. She expected honesty and hard work. We weren’t allowed to quit something we had started, and that taught us perseverance and grit.

And she was a protector. Fierce. Loyal. If someone messed with her family, she stood her ground. She could be tough on us, but she was even tougher on anyone who threatened the people she loved.

Now that she’s gone, I see her lessons everywhere. In my morning routines. In my love of books. In the way I show up for people. In the values I’ve tried to pass down to my own daughters.

My mom taught me that a good life isn’t made up of big moments. It’s built in the small, consistent acts that add up over time.

It’s in how we start our day. 

In the truth we tell.

In the presence we give to the person right in front of us.

Her lessons, and her joy, are still shaping me.

I love you, Mom. 

Cultivating Cultures of Character: What I Saw at Two Alabama Schools

This week, I had the privilege of joining KPCEL (Kern Partners for Character and Educational Leadership) on Character Walks at two remarkable schools - Edgewood Elementary in Homewood, AL, and Pizitz Middle School in Vestavia Hills, AL.

For those unfamiliar, Character Walks are intentional school visits where educators and leaders tour campuses to observe how character is embedded into the daily culture of a school. These walks are about more than what you see, they’re about what you feel. The goal is to notice how values are lived out in classrooms, hallways, and everyday interactions.

Members of the KPCEL Character Walk at Edgewood Elementary (Photo Credit: Homewood City Schools)

Pizitz Middle School has earned recognition as a National School of Character by Character.org, while Edgewood Elementary has been named a Promising Practice school for its innovative approaches to character development. Both schools left me deeply inspired.

Walking through the halls, I was struck not just by the positive energy but by the intentionality behind everything I saw and heard. Their core values weren’t just written on a wall or tucked away in a handbook. They were alive - woven into conversations, classroom routines, and even how students treated one another in the cafeteria and on the playground.

Visiting Edgewood Elementary (Photo Credit: Homewood City Schools)

It reminded me that culture doesn’t happen by accident. A culture of character is cultivated when leaders, teachers, and students alike commit to living out values every day, in and out of the classroom.

Members of Hope Institute at Pizitz Middle School

At Edgewood Elementary, I saw teachers seamlessly connect lessons back to the school’s values, helping students not just learn content but also grow as people. At Pizitz Middle School, students spoke with pride about their shared responsibility in upholding the community’s standards of their core values as well as their creed of character, excellence, and family.

(I was familiar with the principal at Pizitz Middle School, Alicia Hunsberger, as I had interviewed her on the Communities of Character podcast. You can listen to the interview HERE.)

As I experienced these Character Walks, I thought back to my last two years as principal at Hoover High School. During that time, our school community - students, staff, and families - identified our core values and began the important work of weaving them into all aspects of school life. Seeing students at Edgewood and Pizitz living out their schools’ values reminded me of the power of that work and affirmed the direction we had taken at Hoover.

After stepping away from the principalship this summer to help care for my parents, I’ve been grateful to return to the Hope Institute as a Senior Character Coach. This new chapter has given me the opportunity to visit schools like Edgewood and Pizitz, where I get to witness the powerful impact of character education in action.

Members of the Hope Institute at Edgewood Elementary

What inspires me most is knowing that schools like these are modeling what’s possible. They remind us that when character is prioritized, students thrive - not only academically, but also as leaders, friends, and citizens.

To every educator working to build a culture of character: your work matters more than you know. It’s not always easy, and it certainly takes intentional effort, but the results are transformational.

Leaving Edgewood and Pizitz, I felt renewed hope for the future. Because if our schools can shape not just smarter students, but kinder and more compassionate human beings, then we’re shaping a better world.

Pizitz Principal, Alicia Hunsberger, reminds us of the importance of love in all we do.

Question for Reflection:

What would it look like in your school or organization if your core values were truly alive in every classroom, hallway, and interaction?

I’d love to hear from you—share your thoughts in the comments or join me over on Twitter/X.