I recently presented a workshop as part of UNLV’s Administrative Faculty Development Day that helped participants better understand their legacy by examining their values, purpose, and mission. I’d like to share a little bit of it with you. I even have a few writing prompts if you want to join in the fun.
First, why bother thinking about one’s legacy at work? Because, I think, it helps connect us to what we do, and it frames our actions with meaning. What usually comes to mind first when we ponder our legacy is “How will other people remember me?” but I think that it is just as important to ask “What am I going to remember about this?” In other words, when we leave, what do we take with us, and what remains behind? Both are our legacy.
In the workshop, I encouraged participants to get a sense of their legacy by first thinking carefully about their values, purpose, and mission. Values are with us from the start; they are the reason we choose the work we do, and they guide our everyday decisions. For example, someone who values the search for truth may be drawn to the legal profession. It is obvious when we encounter someone whose work aligns with their values: their passion is inspiring and often contagious. By the same token, even at a job we love, every day isn’t a picnic. At those tough times, knowing that we are guided by our values can help us hold the course.
So take a moment, and jot down three values that are important to you. They can be anything that matters; for some it might be creativity, independence, and new experiences, while for someone else it could be gaining knowledge, security, and family. Just find three words or phrases that show up no matter what you do.
Once you have those three words or phrases, think about how they influence the work you have chosen and the world that you’ve surrounded yourself with. I don’t know which values you picked, or what you do (and I might not even know you), but I’m fairly confident that if we talked about it, we could see the connections.
If your values explain what you do, your purpose is all about why it is important. There might be things we do that we are good at and give us some pleasure, but without a higher purpose, we might find them, after a while, meaningless. In general, people are more satisfied when they are doing work that matters, even if it’s ephemeral. One of my most satisfying job was cleaning the beach—seemingly a Sisyphean task, since it’s just going to get dirty again, either by the tide bringing in seaweed or beachgoers leaving behind their litter. But there something felt good about being able to clock out knowing that, for a few hours at least, the beach looked great and people could enjoy themselves.
Purpose is broad: a teacher’s purpose, for example, is to educate; a doctor’s, to heal the sick; a carpenter’s, to build. If you’re not sure about your purpose, I have three questions that you can answer:
- Why does what you do matter?
- On your best day, what difference do you make?
- On your worst day, what difference do you make?
What you distill out of those three responses is probably your purpose. I ask about the best and worst days as a reminder that, even when things don’t go swimmingly, we can still work with purpose. For example, when I set expectations with students at the start of the semester, I like to ask them what will make this a “good” class for them. It’s great if we can learn, build skills, and have fun, but I also remind them that even if we don’t do any of those things and pass the class, they still get three credits, which is about 1/40th the way towards their college degree. So even if I was abysmal as an instructor (happily, my latest course evals are a contraindication of this), I could still claim to be meeting my purpose if students left with their three credits.
There are times, though, when we lose sight of our purpose. If you notice someone who seems to be missing some of their inspiration, you might help them rediscover their purpose, either by asking them the questions above or some other route. And if you find yourself without a north star, take a moment for some self-examination: why does it all matter? That may be the way to reconnect.
After values and purpose comes mission. Many institutions have a mission. You may have a personal mission as well, something that describes how you fulfill your purpose. It helps a great deal if your personal mission aligns with your organization’s mission, but if not, you can see your daily work as a way of providing for what really matters to you.
If you’re still playing along at home, now would be a great time to write down your mission. Again, this is how you act on your purpose.
So at this point, you’ve got—in writing—a set of values, a purpose, and a mission. Adding these together (or maybe multiplying them) yields your legacy. A legacy statement might take this form:
Because [values] are important to me, I [purpose] by [missioning]. And when I’m finished, it will have meant [legacy].
Having a legacy statement might help frame what you do, and it might help guide you through the rough patches we all hit. It might even open up some self-reflection that spurs transformation: if the legacy you are leaving as things are now isn’t the one you want, you may need to consider changes. Serious stuff, to be sure, but with some thought about values, purpose, mission, and legacy, it is well-informed serious stuff.
Some may find this level of self-directed pondering a bit too insular, in which case I encourage you to try it with someone else. Having a partner who can help us refine at each step, while we help them, may make all the difference, and it very well may make the entire process better. And maybe if more people had an idea of how their days created meaning, they would be happier.
So until next time, expect the unexpected, stay informed, and I’ll stay informal.
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