Your School is More Than One Thing

One of the benefits of my work with schools is that I get to experience a wide variety of schools. In some ways, the schools I visit are very different; in others, they’re absolutely the same.

One particular lament is as predictable as the tides: “We have to stop being all things to all people.”

Like many recurring narratives, this contains a thread of truth: schools with a clear “North Star” thrive by providing a clear alternative in the marketplace. Too many schools try to do too many things. Schools can, and should, get better about promising what they can deliver and living up to their promise.

But I also hear this line at schools with very clear philosophies and very well-integrated programs.

Like most of the stories people tell, this one – “the problem with this school is that we are trying to be all things to all people” – can say more about what’s happening for the speaker than what is happening in the outside world.

Your school is always more than one thing to more than one group of people. But that reality isn’t always easy to live with.

Sometimes people use this line when they experience their priorities as out of step with others. Teacher A perceives increased attention to SEL or DEI as pulling minutes from the academic challenge they value deeply; Teacher B, hearing this, perceives that Teacher A doesn’t share their commitment to SEL or DEI. Each may see the other as an outlier out of step with the “true” identity of the school.

Sometimes people use this line when they aren’t comfortable with conflict. Let’s say a parent challenges a teacher on a grade or a curricular decision. Rather than talking to that parent, and understanding that they still might disagree, the teacher often looks to someone else – admissions, or the Head – to somehow preempt the need for the conversation in the first place.

And sometimes people use this line when they struggle with the limits of their current practice. Maybe they’re adjusting to serve a wider range of learners than they’re used to. As they labor in their stretch zone, they frame it as a problem with the school: “we need to be clearer about who we can teach well here. We can’t serve everyone.”

But the fact that people see the school differently than you do, or want something different from you, or show up needing something different than what you expected is not a bug in the system. It’s an inevitability of human community.

People often hunt for schools with a list of five or six criteria; in the end, they join a place that checks the box on three or four. Schools evolve in inconsistent ways, and we organize schools in silos that foster divergent practices. People are inconsistent in their wants and needs. And, of course, people change.

“Do I contradict myself?,” asked Walt Whitman in “Song of Myself.” “Very well then [...] I contain multitudes.” When we notice our school being more than one thing to more than one person, we’re just noticing humans being humans with other humans. They contain multitudes.

The most powerful step we can take is to shift our thinking. We can choose to see the many things our schools can be as a source of hope and learning.

Somewhere in your school, there’s a corner where, without permission from any administrator, things are working better than the rest of the school. There’s a teacher who has really learned to meet a particular need in their classroom. There’s a cohort of students who have found a way to build community in one program, even if it isn’t happening for them elsewhere. How can you scale what’s working?

Somewhere in your school, there’s a parent you’ve stopped listening to who sees a truth you could learn from. What does she see that you don’t?

There’s a teacher who is holding on to a moment in the school’s history that you don’t yet fully appreciate. What can you learn from the experiences, traditions, and artifacts that have emotional power for others, but not for you?

There’s a student or a group that can help your school get better if you spend more time understanding their needs. What can you learn from them?

Yes, most schools can, and should, get better about promising what they can deliver and living up to their promise. But your school is never just one thing to one group of people.

If you can see the power in that reality, you can open up new possibilities.