Ten Practical Ways to Build Character this Week at School

Simple, meaningful ideas to carry you into the holidays - or to kick off strong in January.

As we approach the last stretch before the holiday break, the energy in schools starts to shift. Students feel it. Teachers feel it. The hallways buzz a little louder, the days feel a little fuller, and routines (and patience!) sometimes stretch thin.

It’s a unique window of time that can feel both challenging and full of opportunity.

This time of year is actually perfect for weaving in small, meaningful practices that strengthen character in your classroom or school community. And if December feels too packed or too fast? January offers a fresh, natural reset.

Either way, character isn’t built in grand gestures. It grows in consistent, intentional, and simple moments, which are the the kinds of moments that students remember long after the semester ends.

Here are 10 practical ways to build character at school, each one quick to implement and impactful over time.

1. Greet every student by name each morning.

Hearing their name - spoken kindly and intentionally - grounds students in belonging. Whether it’s at the door, in the hallway, or before the bell rings, it sets the tone: You matter here.

2. Highlight a “Character Trait of the Week” in announcements.

A short spotlight on traits like empathy, perseverance, or respect can spark conversations schoolwide. Keep it simple, keep it consistent, and invite students to notice the trait in action each day.

3. Incorporate a short reflection question into class openers.

A one-minute prompt of “What’s one thing you can do today to be a good teammate?” helps students build self-awareness and intention. Reflection is one of the most powerful tools in character education.

4. Model respectful language during challenging conversations.

Students learn the most from what they see. Using calm, respectful language, especially in tough moments, teaches emotional regulation and dignity far better than any worksheet ever could.

5. Recognize students showing positive character with quick notes or shout-outs.

Character grows when it’s seen and named. A sticky note, a brief comment, or a quick announcement... it doesn’t have to be fancy to be meaningful.

6. Start each class with a 60-second gratitude or kindness prompt.

A simple, guided moment such as, “Think of one person you’re grateful for today,” helps students build empathy and emotional awareness. It also centers everyone for learning.

7. Create opportunities for students to lead small tasks or routines.

Student leadership doesn’t have to be formal. Handing out materials, leading warm-ups, taking care of the board... these small responsibilities build confidence and agency.

8. Use a rotating classroom responsibility chart to build ownership.

Ownership fosters character. A rotating chart spreads opportunities for responsibility and gives every student a chance to contribute to the classroom community.

9. Incorporate a daily kindness challenge students can complete in under 2 minutes.

Tiny acts create big shifts. Examples:

“Hold the door for someone.”

“Invite someone new to join your group.”

“Say thank you more times than you think you need to.”

Two minutes. Big impact.

10. End the week with a ‘Character Win’ share-out in each class.

Give students a chance to celebrate moments of integrity, kindness, or perseverance, by either something they did or something they saw. These reflections become a powerful culture-builder over time.

A Small Start Can Last All Year
Whether you try one idea before the holiday break or save a few for January’s restart, remember this:

Building character doesn’t require perfection; it requires consistency.  Small practices, repeated over time, shape the culture of a classroom and the heart of a school.

 If you try any of these, I’d love to hear how they go.

And if you have ideas to add, share them! Our strength as educators grows when we learn from each other.

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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!

This post includes affiliate links. Thanks for supporting this blog and the work I share at The Compelled Educator.

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.