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.

Janssen explained that on every team, in every organization, and honestly in every school, people fall at different places along the continuum. Some are resistant. Some are reluctant. Others are simply existing, going through the motions. Some are compliant because they know what’s expected, and others are genuinely committed to the work.

But then there’s another level entirely: compelled.

As a coach, I knew exactly who those athletes were. They were the ones who didn’t need constant reminders or external motivation. They practiced hard when no one was watching. They encouraged teammates naturally. They brought energy into the dugout instead of waiting for someone else to create it. Their effort wasn’t driven by pressure, rules, or fear of consequences. It came from somewhere deeper inside them.

And I remember thinking at the time, That’s different. That’s the kind of mindset that changes teams.

The Word That Stuck With Me

Over the years, I started seeing that same quality everywhere. I saw it in teachers who showed up every day with passion and purpose, even when the work was hard. I saw it in school leaders who poured themselves into building positive cultures because they genuinely believed students deserved it. I saw it in colleagues, mentors, and eventually in the schools and leadership teams I’ve had the privilege to support through the Hope Institute. The people who made the greatest impact were rarely the loudest or most recognized. They were simply people who felt deeply connected to the work they had been called to do.

That idea stayed with me for a long time, and when I eventually started writing publicly, I realized that the word compelled perfectly captured the kind of educator and leader I hoped to become.

What It Means to Be Compelled

To me, being compelled has never meant being perfect or having unlimited energy. It doesn’t mean always getting it right. It means being guided by purpose and conviction. It means caring enough to step forward, even when it’s difficult. It means leading from the inside out, not because someone told you to, but because something in your heart tells you the work matters.

That belief has shaped my leadership, my writing, and the way I approach education. It’s why relationships matter so much to me. It’s why culture matters. It’s why character matters. Because the educators and leaders who change lives are rarely the ones operating out of obligation alone. They are the ones who are compelled to serve, to grow, to encourage, and to make things better for the people around them.

And that’s the heartbeat behind everything I share here at The Compelled Educator.

Still Compelled After All These Years

It’s been many years since I stood on a softball field carrying a bucket of balls and a practice plan, but the lessons I learned during those seasons of coaching have never really left me. In many ways, they continue to shape how I lead, how I encourage others, and how I approach this work every single day.

That idea of being compelled, of being driven by something deeper than obligation or recognition, still guides me. It shows up in every blog post I write, every workshop I lead, every podcast conversation I’m privileged to have, and every coaching session where I get to walk alongside educators and leaders who are doing meaningful work in challenging times. It even shows up in the quiet moments of transition and uncertainty, when purpose matters more than position.

The longer I spend in education and leadership spaces, the more convinced I become that our schools and communities desperately need compelled leaders. We need people who are grounded in purpose, who lead with integrity and compassion, and who are willing to keep showing up for others even when the work feels difficult. We need leaders who don’t simply react to the moment, but who rise to meet it with courage, empathy, and hope.

That belief is at the center of why I continue to write and share here. It’s why I coach. It’s why I speak. It’s why I remain so passionate about leadership, culture, and character.

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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 first retired from Hoover High School in 2021. When I re-joined Hoover High as Principal in 2023, I never expected to retire again two years later, on July 1, 2025. 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 put aside. 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 at Samford University 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.