New Year’s Resolutions Without Overwhelm for Students and Ourselves!

Written By Gretchen Wegner

January is a strange moment in education.

Culturally, the New Year is framed as a fresh start. In practice, January often feels more like a re-entry—back into routines, expectations, and unfinished arcs from the fall. Some students are gearing up for final exams. Others are starting a new semester. And educators? We’re usually holding a mix of renewed energy, lingering exhaustion, and quiet pressure to “start the year strong.”

Inside the Anti-Boring Learning Lab, we come back to this principle again and again: we try the tools in our own lives before we bring them to students. We pay attention to what reflection actually feels like—when it helps, when it pressures, and when it simply adds noise.

Last week, we had our first All About Students community call of the season. Because it landed on January 7, New Year’s resolutions came up again and again. Spoiler alert: most of us deeply dislike the idea of “resolutions”… and also, most of us did engage in some kind of reflection anyway. That tension sparked a rich conversation—not just about how we hold the New Year as adults, but what (if anything) our experience should translate into when we’re working with students.

This blog grew directly out of that conversation.

TL;DR

If you don’t have time to read the whole post, here’s the short version of what matters most:

  • January is not a universal fresh start for students. Some are beginning something new, while others are finishing finals, recovering from burnout, or re-entering routines. Treating New Year’s resolutions as universally motivating can unintentionally increase pressure rather than support learning.

  • How we talk about New Year’s resolutions matters more than whether we do them at all. Naming our own mixed feelings as educators, asking students how the New Year feels to them, and recognizing multiple “natural beginnings” (birthdays, semesters, school years) helps preserve student agency and trust.

  • Student reflection works best when it’s optional, concrete, and low-stakes. Instead of traditional resolutions, offer flexible formats like the ones listed below—so reflection supports executive function rather than overwhelming it.

This post will resonate most with:

  • Academic coaches and executive function coaches supporting student goal setting

  • Classroom teachers navigating New Year’s resolutions, reflection activities, and January energy

  • Educators working with neurodiverse learners who benefit from flexible, student-centered approaches

Let’s take a closer look at how to talk about New Year’s resolutions with students—if at all.

January Is Not a Universal Fresh Start

One of the first things we named in our community call was this: not everyone is actually starting a new year in January.

Some students are:

  • Wrapping up final exams

  • Closing out a demanding semester

  • Feeling depleted rather than inspired

Others truly are beginning something new. Same calendar date—very different emotional and cognitive states.

When we treat January reflection or goal setting as universally motivating, we risk missing what students actually need in that moment.

From an executive function perspective, timing matters. Reflection that arrives during overload can backfire—even when intentions are good.

Why We Start With Our Own Experience

In the Anti-Boring Learning Lab, we don’t jump straight to strategies. It’s one of our top five values that we start by noticing our own experience, and fully embodying ideas before asking students to try them on.

Many educators in our “All About Students” call named feeling conflicted about New Year’s resolutions—not because we don’t value growth or reflection, but because resolution culture often piles on expectations all at once. Naming that discomfort reminded us that reflection is a tool, not a moral requirement.

That kind of modeling—being honest about pressure, ambivalence, and choice—is exactly what helps students develop self-awareness and agency.

How I Personally Hold the New Year

Before talking about what to do with students, I want to briefly name how I personally approach the New Year—not as a recommendation, and definitely not as something I think anyone should copy. I’m sharing this simply as a way of modeling reflection and vulnerability.

Each year, I choose a theme.

It’s not a resolution. It’s not an intention. And it’s definitely not a “must-have-by-December” outcome. It’s more like an inquiry—something that feels underdeveloped or quietly calling for attention in my life. I think of it as a way of jumpstarting something I want to grow not just this year, but for the rest of my life.

I started doing this during the pandemic, and my themes have included things like:

  • 2022: spell-casting (learning to ask for what I want and trust support),

  • 2023: the erotic (in the Audre Lorde sense of embodied aliveness and delight, introduced to me by Adrienne Maree Brown’s Pleasure Activism),

  • 2024: community (what it means to be held by others and to nurture connection),

  • 2025: spice/masala (the small things that add richness to daily life), and this year’s theme:

  • 2026: goddess—an inquiry into spirituality, feminine images of the divine, and loosening patriarchal, capitalist definitions of success in favor of more spacious, life-giving ones.

What I’ve noticed over time is this:

First, a theme has to be juicy enough to last. If it can’t hold my attention past March, it’s not the right one. It needs to be relevant across many areas of my life, not just one narrow goal.

Second, because I’m not trying to “get somewhere specific,” these themes tend to have a multi-year life cycle. They unfold slowly. They deepen. Often, I don’t see their full impact until years later.

And finally, I’m loud about them. My friends—and even some members of the Anti-Boring Learning Lab—know my themes. I’m a verbal processor, so I’m often sharing my reflections throughout the year with my friends and colleagues. Even when the theme doesn’t seem as “businessy”.

I’m sharing my process not because I think students should do this—or that educators should lead with themes like these—but because how we hold reflection ourselves inevitably shapes how we invite students into it:

I tend to err on the side of sharing my own thinking with students in ways that are developmentally appropriate, precisely because it helps normalize reflection as something human, evolving, and deeply personal.

How to Talk to Students About New Year’s Resolutions (Without Adding Pressure)

Here’s a student-centered approach you can use in coaching sessions or classrooms. You don’t need to do all of these. Think of this as a progression, not a checklist.

1. Acknowledge that students are in different places.
You might say: “Some people are starting fresh right now. Others are finishing something hard. Both are real.” This simple framing reduces resistance and validates lived experience.

2. Ask how the New Year feels to them.
Try questions like:

  • “How do you usually think about the New Year?”

  • “Do you like setting goals or intentions—or does that feel stressful?”

  • “What are the people around you doing, and how does that affect you?”

  • “Would it feel useful to reflect together right now, or would another time of the school year make more sense for you?”

3. Model your own relationship with New Year’s resolutions.
If you’re conflicted, name it. If resolutions add pressure for you, say so. Make it clear that there is no required way to approach January. If you’re willing to share with them what your goals, reflections, intentions are, do that!!

4. Name that there are many ‘natural beginnings.’
Invite students to compare the New Year with birthdays, the start of a school year, or the beginning of a semester. Ask: “Which one feels most real to you—and why?”

5. Offer reflection as a choice, not an assignment.
Instead of “We’re setting New Year’s goals,” try: “Would it feel useful to reflect right now, or would another time make more sense?” Choice supports motivation and executive function.

If a Student Does Want to Reflect: Fun, Anti-Boring Options

When students opt in, reflection doesn’t need to look like a worksheet or a formal goal-setting exercise.

And of course, ask them first if they have ways to reflect that they’d like to try. But if not, or if they’d like some other options, here are low-pressure, student-tested reflection activities:

  • One-word themes for the next month or season

  • Energy mapping (what gave energy vs. drained it last year)

  • Keep / Try / Let Go lists instead of traditional goals

  • Future postcards, written lightly from a future self. This or this.

  • Visual reflection using drawing, symbols, timelines, or color coding

  • Reflection BINGO cards with optional prompts. I made my own short video about this—check it out here.

  • Punch cards for small reflection actions over time

  • Experiment framing, such as “I’m curious what would happen if…”

  • Short-horizon focus menus (one to two weeks instead of “this year”)

  • What else? We’d love to hear from you if you have other things you love to do with students. Put them in the comments below.

These approaches reduce cognitive load, increase student agency, and keep reflection grounded in awareness rather than performance.

Modeling the Mindset

In the Anti-Boring Learning Lab, we model the reflective learners we want students to become.

For educators, that might mean asking:

  • Where does reflection help me—and where does it add pressure?

  • Which “new year” actually feels aligned right now?

  • What would it look like to model focus instead of constant self-optimization?

Do any of these questions spark some ideas for you? If so, please post below!

A Gentle Invitation

You don’t need to fix January. You don’t need to make New Year’s resolutions meaningful for every student.

Sometimes the most supportive move is simply to make space for different experiences of the same moment—and to show students that growth doesn’t require a deadline.

That’s the heart of the Anti-Boring Learning Lab: living the tools first, then offering students strategies that actually fit their lives.

If you’re not quite ready to jump in, here are some great next steps if you haven’t done them already. :

Gretchen Wegner
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When Your New Student Is Way More Behind Than You Expected