A series of posts on the relationship between vocation and rhetoric, focusing on how ethos, logos, pathos, and mythos offer a fresh perspective for creatives, educators, and scholars to conceptualize their professional and personal callings.
In rhetorical terms, mythos refers to the stories that shape how we understand who we are, where we come from, and what we are called to become; these stories center the deeper cultural and spiritual narratives that frame both individual identity and collective belonging. The roots of mythos lie in the Sophist tradition of pre-Aristotelian rhetoric, in which storytelling was seen not just as persuasion, but as a means of conveying truths about the human condition. Not only a rhetorical appeal, mythos is also a way of being—helping us locate ourselves within larger moral, communal, and historical arcs.
In the context of vocation, mythos invites us to ask: What story are we living into? And whose myths are we carrying? While vocational reflection has long emphasized personal narrative and storytelling, mythos adds another dimension by encouraging us to examine the cultural scripts—about success, sacrifice, and purpose, that we may have inherited unconsciously. As Mark U. Edwards Jr. notes, vocation often emerges from “the stories we tell ourselves about ourselves”; but mythos asks us to go further, questioning where those stories come from, how they shape our sense of calling, and whether they serve us or constrain us.
This deeper engagement with mythos offers students and educators a more reflective and liberating lens for vocational discernment. It allows us to critically engage the narratives that surround us, and to revise, reclaim, or reject them in favor of lives rooted in love, justice, and meaning.
A pivotal moment in my understanding of mythos came during a writing group led by a professor from Boston University. Revisiting Paulo Coelho’s The Alchemist, I was struck by its central idea: “To realize one’s destiny is a person’s only obligation.” The book highlights that identifying our “personal legend” requires introspection, courage, and persistence. For students navigating their own vocations, this message resonates profoundly. How do we identify our destiny? The answer lies in rewriting the stories imposed on us by societal norms, leaning instead into narratives guided by love, resilience, and purpose.
In my own journey—in particular with my father—mythos has played an essential part in my development. As I wrote in a previous post, my father once said that my biggest problem was that I always thought I was him. For a long time, I struggled with this notion, trying to reconcile my desire to live up to his legacy with the need to forge my own path. It wasn’t until I began to write and rewrite my story with love as the guiding principle that I understood the true meaning of his words. I came to see that I was not meant to be a carbon copy of him but rather to create my own mythos, one that embodies the values he taught me while also reflecting my unique experiences and aspirations.
Mythos is about living a life that endeavors to write a new script each day. It’s about choosing to live guided by love and not greed, about creating a narrative that fosters change rather than perpetuating the same old stories. With God and our hearts as our guides, we can write a story that is uniquely our own, one that speaks to our deepest truths and inspires others to do the same. My ethos is love; my logos tabulates to love; my pathos reflects the loveless. My mythos is best described as spreading love.
At the start of each semester, I write on the board, “What story are you telling, and is it yours to tell?” This question invites students to examine inherited narratives and begin rewriting their own. Through reflective journaling and class discussions, they begin to see how their stories—once questioned and reframed—can become maps toward more meaningful, values-driven lives.
What story are you telling, and is it yours to tell?
In my courses, students analyze organizational mythos through case studies and create campaigns for fictional nonprofits, integrating ethos, pathos, and mythos to inspire action. Tasking student teams with with addressing real-world challenges fosters collaboration and shows how storytelling can drive meaningful change.
In my public speaking course, students respond to Coelho’s invitation and craft a speech about their “personal legend,” which invites them to reflect on a pivotal experience that shaped their values or aspirations. One student shared that watching her immigrant mother painstakingly translate letters in English left a lasting impression on her understanding of sacrifice, justice, and voice. That memory, she explained, inspired her to pursue social justice law—not just as a profession, but as a way to honor her family’s legacy and advocate for others whose efforts often go unseen.
This exercise is powerful because it pushes students beyond remembering; it asks them to interpret their stories, uncover deeper meaning, and connect personal experience to larger purpose. It shows how mythos can guide vocational reflection—not just by naming a career path, but by asking: Who am I becoming? What values shape that journey?
To help students further connect their mythos to their vocation, I emphasize the process of rewriting—encouraging students to reflect on which narratives they’ve inherited and which they wish to revise. As they do so, they encounter bell hooks and Thich Nhat Hanh, both of whom offer powerful frameworks for approaching our life stories with love, mindfulness, and a commitment to liberation. In Teaching to Transgress, hooks calls the classroom “the most radical space of possibility” and defines love as an ethic: “Love is an action, never simply a feeling.” These ideas challenge students to see their personal narratives as sites of resistance and healing.
Likewise, I introduce Hanh’s teachings on mindfulness, particularly from The Art of Living and Peace Is Every Step. His reminder that “understanding is love’s other name” helps students reframe self-reflection not as self-indulgent, but as a way to grow in compassion. His concept of interbeing—how our stories are linked with those around us—resonates deeply with students exploring family, culture, or identity.
In one exercise, I ask students to map their lives using a narrative arc: identifying origins, key conflicts, turning points, and possible futures. This invites them to see how their mythos connects to their vocational goals. Students often return to the language of hooks and Hanh to reinterpret key moments. One student, for example, reframed her perfectionism through hooks’s lens—not as a flaw, but as a response to being told her voice didn’t matter. Another student shifted her goals from corporate marketing to mental health advocacy after realizing, with Hanh’s help, that love includes boundaries and rest.
Through this work, students begin to understand that vocation is not a fixed endpoint but a continually unfolding story. They move from asking, “What should I do?” to “Who am I becoming?” and “What values will guide my journey?” For educators, mythos becomes a tool to help students discern not only their paths, but their purpose—inviting a deeper vocational wholeness that integrates emotional, cultural, and spiritual growth.
Ultimately, mythos and vocation are intertwined. Mythos provides the narrative foundation for vocation, offering a framework to align one’s life story with their purpose. It is not just about the stories we tell, but the lives we live. By integrating mythos into our teaching, we can help students see themselves as authors of their own destinies, capable of creating narratives that inspire transformation. Let us embrace this responsibility, guiding students to craft lives that spread love, foster justice, and reflect their deepest convictions.
Reginald Bell, Jr., is an assistant professor of strategic communication and public relations at Monmouth College in Monmouth, Illinois. A third-generation clergyman, he was honored and humbled to deliver a TED Talk at Knox College in March 2024 titled “The Money is in the Hogs.” He first learned about NetVUE after attending seminars on vocation on his campus in 2024. For other posts by Reginald, click here.