Every time teachers express exhaustion or frustration, someone inevitably tells them to “remember their why.” It’s meant to be uplifting, but more often, it lands like another demand—another way of saying, your purpose should outweigh your reality.
Here’s the problem: teachers never forgot their why. They still care deeply about students. They still believe in the power of learning. What’s changed isn’t their purpose—it’s the conditions around it.

For years, education has leaned on the language of inspiration to patch over the weight of systemic dysfunction. Posters in staff lounges remind teachers they “change lives every day.” PD sessions end with heartfelt reminders to “find your why.” These messages sound supportive—but in practice, they can feel like gaslighting. They shift attention away from the systemic pressures making the work unsustainable and onto the individuals simply trying to survive it.
“Remember your why” has become the educational equivalent of “just stay positive.” It puts the responsibility for surviving broken systems back on the individual, instead of addressing what’s burning them out in the first place. Teachers don’t need another motivational slogan; they need structural support, updated curriculum, time to collaborate, and trust to do the job they were hired to do.
Passion is not a substitute for planning. Commitment is not a replacement for capacity. And no amount of personal “why” can offset the weight of outdated curriculum, constant testing pressure, staffing shortages, and new initiatives added on top of an already full plate.
When we tell teachers to remember their why, we’re implying that passion can compensate for policy gaps—that heart can fix what structure has broken. It can’t. No amount of personal drive can sustain someone who’s consistently asked to do more with less, to engage students with materials that no longer connect, or to carry the emotional weight of an entire school community.
If we truly want teachers to reconnect with their purpose, we have to create the conditions that make that possible. That means:

✅ Fixing systems, not people. Streamline initiatives, modernize curriculum, and remove barriers that drain energy from meaningful instruction. Schools shouldn’t depend on teachers’ self-sacrifice to function.
Valuing teacher time. Build schedules and expectations that make collaboration, reflection, and innovation possible—not impossible. Time is a form of respect.

Trusting teachers’ expertise. Give them voice and agency in decision-making so their “why” can show up in their work every day. Teachers are not implementers of policy; they are professionals who shape it.
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Providing balance. Encourage boundaries and wellness not as buzzwords, but as professional necessities. A teacher who feels human is a teacher who can sustain their impact.
The truth is, teachers don’t need to remember their why. They need us to remember ours—the reason we built schools in the first place: to create spaces where learning thrives, people grow, and purpose is supported by systems that make it sustainable.
When we start there, we stop asking teachers to stretch beyond reason and start designing schools that help them do what they came here to do: teach, inspire, and make a difference—without burning out in the process.
What would change if, instead of asking teachers to “remember their why,” we asked leaders to “rethink the how”?
The Principal’s Desk, Assistant Principal’s Desk, and The School Counselor’s Desk was founded by Dr. David Franklin. Dr. Franklin is an award winning school administrator, education professor, curriculum designer, published author and presenter at national and international education conferences. He is also the co-author of “Can Every School Succeed” and the #1 Amazon Best Seller in Education Administration: “Advice From The Principal’s Desk”.