Mission Statements for Catholic Schools—Five Suggestions

Mission statements for schools are usually written by a committee.  To make sure everyone’s perspective is included in the final result, they tend to say too much, and often become wordy, ineffective and unmemorable.

My career in Catholic education began in 1985, and as a young teacher, I was placed on the “mission committee” in preparation for an accreditation visit. I don’t remember the exact wording of what we came up with, but it was similar to many other mission statements at the time, reflecting the “whole child” emphasis, with its familiar mantra of areas we wanted to develop in our students: spiritual, physical, emotional, academic, artistic, and the like. While there’s no doubt a Catholic school should be aimed at more than a student’s intellectual development, these kind of “lists” are now so common in mission statements that they lack any emotive power. In short, they are boring. 

But hey, we completed our duty and checked the box. How important is a mission statement, anyway? Just words, right? We can now file it away until the next accreditation visit ten years in the future, and get on to the more important work of running a school.

Thirty two years and principal of three Catholic high schools since, I have completely changed  my view. Simple, evocative mission statements are essential building blocks  to establish the right culture in our school. And it's the school’s culture, more than any new academic program, more than any new teacher training, new pedagogy, or new techniques, which determines school effectiveness. As one pundit put it, “School culture eats strategies for breakfast.” To build that culture, the first step is define the school’s “why” as succinctly and powerfully as possible.

I have five suggestions on how we can do this.

1) I believe mission statements should be aspirational: “Scholars” and not “Students,” “Disciples” and not merely “Christians” or “Catholics.” Students are children of God, capable of greatness because of the transforming power of God’s grace within them. We want students to set bold goals, to stretch and to challenge themselves, to seek “more.” 

2) They should tell our “why” not our “how.” We exist to “form disciples.” Not “We seek to form partnerships with parents so as to help form disciples.” Following the insights of Simon Sinek, our emotional response to “why” is much more powerful than our reaction to "how."  For sure, the idea of parents as partners is an important operational principle, but it can be more effectively communicated in a vision statement or set of principles of operation.

3) They should be repeatable, short phrases, rather than long winded sets of words that no one can remember. With mission statements, less is more—if it can’t be remembered, it’s unlikely to have much effect on anything or anyone. I recommend using three key words or three short phrases (the “magic number”) as the essence of the mission statement. ( cf. “Power of Three”, "Power of 3 for Effective Communication", "Using the Power of Three to Create Engaging Content")

Here are five examples of mission statements that I believe make effective use of the power of three:

• "We share we share in the responsibility to prepare students for college and beyond,  while helping them to grow to become persons of faith, virtue, and wisdom." (Montgomery Catholic Preparatory School, Montgomery)

• "Montgomery Bell Academy offers young men an exemplary college preparatory experience, helping them become gentlemen, scholars, and athletes.” (Montgomery Bell Academy, Nashville)

• “Catholic. Marianist. Forming our Students into Remarkable Men.” (Archbishop Moeller, Cincinnati)

• “St. Michael aspires for its students to become scholars, leaders and disciples of Jesus Christ” (St. Michael, Fairhope, the school of which I'm principal)

• Heart of Mary Catholic School seeks to form students who are faithful to Jesus Christ, committed to their studies, and proud of themselves and their school." The "tagline" for the school is thus "Faithful. Committed.Proud!" (Heart of Mary Catholic elementary, Mobile, AL). 

4)We should be as specific as possible. The problem with saying "We are focused on "spiritual growth," for example, is that "spiritual" is so abstract it has very little emotive power.  Spiritual growth toward what?  Couldn't any religious school from any religious tradition--Muslim, Jewish, Christian or Hindu--say they are interested in the spiritual growth of their students? Would the school be happy if each student developed his or her own private , distinct religious views, sincerely held?  Or does the school hope to form students in the gospel of Jesus Christ?

5) These words should repeated over and over. They should be a theme of every PTO talk to parents. The principal should be very observant of ways they are being lived out in the hallways, and tell stories about what he or she has observed. They should be on school stationary, on signature lines for emails, on school web pages. They should be recognized as categories in athletic or academic awards, where possible, and engrained in school rituals. For example, at St. Michael, each academic department recognizes its top student (scholar), its best classroom leader (leader), and its most generous, concerned student for others (disciple) at the annual awards day. 

One of the truisms about American pop culture is that we generally distrust the power of words to move people. Perhaps we’re so inundated with commercials, or tainted by manipulative political ads that we tend to dismiss their power. Perhaps we are far too reliant on videos, music or pictures to move us.  But I believe if we are intentional about reminding our communities of who we are, if we are observant enough to see this mission active in the lives of our students and are willing to tell frequent stories about what we’ve observed, our mission statements can slowly begin to change how our students and teachers understand who they are and what they are doing.  

Words can still change us—we just have to choose them wisely, use them intentionally,  and do so with great frequency! 

Something New?

“SEE, I am doing something new! Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? In the wilderness I make a way, in the wasteland, rivers. “  (Isaiah 43: 19)

At the time of his writing, Isaiah was speaking to a Hebrew people that had been utterly destroyed by the Babylonian empire. Their families were split apart, exiled to foreign lands. Jerusalem, their holy city, decimated. Their Temple, reduced to rubble. Yahweh, the “warrior” who had once “triumphed gloriously,”  who had “cast a horse and chariot into the sea” (Exodus 15), thoroughly defeated.  And yet remarkably, Isaiah challenges them to see that God is doing something new through all of this, and encourages them to see in their suffering, a chance for their purification and redemption, promising not just a king who shall rise against Babylon (Cyrus, king of Persia), but also a servant, who shall, one day, “justify many,” and by “whose stripes (they) will be healed” (Isaiah 53). 

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the impact of Covid-19 on our Catholic schools. Many of our more vulnerable schools could end up closing, the virus in effect “fast forwarding” their eventual demise. What does this mean for us? How might this impact the future of our Church? What might we consider doing differently? 

It is difficult to be in the middle of a crisis, crushed by the emergencies of the moment, and step back enough to discern, perhaps, good that may come from it. But as people of hope and faith, who believe in the mercy and providence of God, I think that’s what we are being called to do. In times of prosperity, we often slip into patterns that cramp us, locking us into practices that may have once been effective, but now no longer help us flourish. A crisis forces us to rethink everything. How can we, as one pundit phrased it, “not waste a good crisis” to do what needs doing?   

I have a few tentative thoughts, both at the school level and more broadly. 

One of the more detrimental trends over the last 25 years  is decreasing parental involvement in our schools.  If we host a PTO meeting, we’ll have very few parents attend. If we invite an expert to talk to our parents about health and wellness of teenagers so as to help those struggling with their teens, typically the most committed parents—the ones who are good at it!—are the only ones to show up. I’ve caught myself moaning about this, decrying the insane “busy-ness” of our parents, who at the end of a work day are stressed and exhausted, unwilling to leave their house once home. 

But if truth be told, despite raising four kids and understanding this parental exhaustion first hand, as principal, I’ve never really done anything differently to help accommodate our parents at night.   In early May, however, having read articles on the importance of “connection” during the shut-down,  I decided to host five “zoom” sessions with parents, beginning with senior parents, then junior parents, sophomores, freshmen. and finally, incoming families. I scheduled them for one hour, at 7 p.m., on successive nights. Turnout was huge—close to 70%. No doubt some of the interest was fueled by anxiety over the virus. But I think part of it, too, was how much more convenient it was for them. They didn’t have to arrange child care, spend time getting dressed up, or waste time getting back and forth. Might we be able to do more of this post-vaccine? Could we not schedule parent-teacher conferences this way? Have “coffee with the principal” via zoom to talk about issues of mutual concern? Host virtual “open houses?” Could coaches host meetings with team parents from time to time? 

We were forced to learn how to use “Facebook live,” so as to broadcast our  press conference announcing Philip Rivers as our future football coach, and later, to present our end of year Awards assembly. While broadcasting live video, Facebook simultaneously records the event, allowing people who missed it to review the video.  This provides excellent, meaningful content to our social media pages, which can then be shared by viewers to other social media, expanding our reach. Could we do more of this, for music concerts, ball games, other school events, or even a “state of the school address” by the principal and advisory council chair?

In the past, teachers who are sick or out for professional development have been asked to create “assignments” for substitutes to give to our students—kids are inclined to view this as “busy work” (and they’re often right).  But with a full 8 weeks of synchronous and a-synchronous learning under our belt, might we be able to create more meaningful class work and videos for our students, perhaps even “zooming” in live? Could we host summer “faculty meetings” if something arises, which we need to discuss as a school?  These are possibilities we’ve never really considered. 

And what about the diocesan level? 

Though huge western dioceses have been doing so this for years, why not conduct more diocesan principal meetings virtually? The cumulative time lost for everyone getting to a physical site and back could be saved, even while allowing principals to maintain a physical presence in their schools. Perhaps virtual meetings could be shorter, but more frequent, improving their effectiveness.  

And could not dioceses arrange “cohorts” of principals, some with more experience, to virtually mentor younger principals? Assistant principals? Or advancement folks? Could not superintendents check-in more frequently with school leaders, if through video-conference?  Could not new diocesan policies, or changes to employee benefits, be promulgated via zoom, with a chance for Q/A at the end? 

And as schools close, making our “system” of schools ever smaller, is it time to rethink the very idea of a “system” of schools? One of the inevitable results of a thinking of ourselves as a “system” is template thinking: each school is governed by a set of diocesan policies, each follows the same calendar with an 8-3 school day (or thereabouts), each implements the diocesan curriculum, using diocesan-approved textbooks, and taught by teachers who meet the same certification requirements. Even tuitions are similar.  Being part of that system may seem like a great benefit to our smaller, more vulnerable schools, but I believe the lack of differentiation actually hurts them, because it makes them less competitive vs. Catholic schools with more resources and better economies of scale. If a smaller school tries to run the same program as a larger, wealthier school with newer buildings, better manicured lawns, better paid teachers, and with more bells and whistles, why would parents send their children there? Why wouldn’t parents drive an extra ten minutes or so to put their kids in the “better” school?

What if, by contrast, we had a Montessori option within a diocese? A dual-language school? A “classical school” option? Perhaps a “year-round” school? In light of the school closings that Covid19 is causing, I believe we’re going to need to provide parents with real options that may cause them to reconsider us anew. Otherwise, we may face an accelerated “Darwinian evolution,” whereby only the strongest, wealthiest schools survive. I write more about this idea here. 

And if we moved in that direction—less a “system” of similar schools and more of a “consortium” of a wider variety of distinctive schools—might we need to rethink the role of the superintendent’s office? One of our current problems is that canon law is very clear that pastors of parishes have authority over their schools, but too often, they abdicate their authority—or more charitably, delegate their authority—to the superintendent, which has the unfortunate effect of undercutting local initiative and entrepreneurialism. If a local school is looking upward and not inward for its “renaissance,” it need not expect to escape the “dark ages” very soon. 

Pastors and principals should be the two lungs that help parishes breathe, solving problems and planning together, but the average principal spends much more time with central office personnel, at meetings, responding to diocesan directives and emails, following diocesan protocols. In fact, it’s relatively rare that principals and pastors even have a set weekly meeting time together. Our relationships are upside down!

What, then, of the central school office? Could the central office become less regulatory in nature, and more of a catalyst for innovation and experimentation? What if, for example, it hosted a zoom conference with a principal of a well regarded Montessori school from some other diocese, together with 2-3 diocesan principals as a possibility for their consideration?  Or the same idea, but with a dual language school, or a classical Christian school principal? Could the diocese survey families about their interest in a year round school option? Might there be interest in a kind of “hybrid” school that made a special appeal to home-schooling families, allowing parents to teach the humanities one part of the day, but providing them the option of taking math and science classes at a particular school, or being part of its athletic program? 

Could one school pool the best teachers in the diocese for a truly excellent summer learning experience? Could the diocese host monthly sessions (via zoom), whereby it invited principals who were particularly good at some area of administration (finances, hiring practices, discipline, curriculum, etc. ) to lead discussions with the other principals on that topic? Could diocesan high schools share their best teachers in hard to hire positions by “live streaming” to the other high schools? Could we invite interested teachers to attend principal training seminars once or twice a month via zoom, preparing them, but also getting to know them well enough to discern talent, and giving the diocese a “bench” for the future? 

I believe Covid19 puts all of this on the table for serious discussion and consideration. May God give us the wisdom, courage and grace to embrace new ideas and new forms, so that He may create a “way through the wilderness,”  and “rivers,  from wastelands.”

Strategic Planning for 2020-21 in Light of Covid19

Let us be bold and daring!

Viewed negatively, the likely re-occurrence of the Covid19 virus during the 2020-21 school year is a real threat to all of us, and especially our most vulnerable Catholic schools. Parents may decide if their children are going to be home a significant part of the year anyway, if athletic and music programs are going to be canceled anyway, if they’re going to need to find a way to supervise their children themselves, what’s the point of paying tuition? Perhaps they should just homeschool, or enroll their children in the local public school and save the money. Every school that requires tuition, Catholic or private, should be worried. 

Viewed differently, however, this summer COULD be an unprecedented opportunity for our most vulnerable schools to make a stunning turnaround—a chance to reposition and “rebrand” as the safest, most forward thinking school in town.  And it’s a chance for well positioned schools to further distinguish themselves. 

It will all depend on the wisdom, daring and boldness of our plans this summer. 

In a prescient “open letter” dated April 9 to headmasters and principals of private schools, two Kennesaw State professors, Benjamin Scafidi and Eric Wearne, provide us with some very helpful perspectives to help us begin thinking about the fall.  

They begin with a survey of medical opinion, concluding that it even if we are able to relax some social conditioning restrictions this summer and open the new school year normally, it is highly likely that the Coronavirus will return at some point during the school year.  We must prepare, then,  for on-site and off-site instruction, perhaps toggling on and off several times through out the year,  as the 'new normal' for the next 18-24 months— and hope, by then, that we’ve developed a vaccine. Given that daunting new reality, Scafidi and Wearne say we must prioritize four areas in our planning: 

1. Are our schools the safest in town?
2. Have we fully considered the educational design and technological needs of our school to implement first tier instruction? 
3. Are we prepared to absorb some of the negative financial effects? 
4. Are we taking care of our teachers, students and families?

I’d like to reflect on each of these. 

First and foremost, how do we show parents, credibly, not that we are merely “safe”, but we are the “safest school in town” for their children? 

I find that a helpful way to frame the issue and push us to be bold. Do we, for example, arrange to take temperatures of every student in the school to begin the day? Are oxygen finger monitors a suitable substitute? Should we develop protocols whereby students sanitize their hands at the beginning of each class period?  Are there sanitizing stations all throughout the school? More radically, do we hire additional custodial staff to disinfect every doorknob, every handrail, every place students may touch when they change class rooms, after every class change? Do we consider hiring a school nurse to assess, monitor and care for students?  What is our crisis plan if a student, teacher or parent in the school is diagnosed with the virus? If local governments allow schools to remain open, but insist on strong social distancing practices,  can we create a realistic plan to support those practices? How do we communicate this plan, quickly and transparently, so as to not elicit panic? 

Second, Scafidi and Wearne ask, what are the educational and technological considerations? Do we have a common software “platform” to post and receive assignments and to communicate grades? Do students have laptops to do the distance learning? Might it be the case that there are some days that half the student body comes to school and the other half stays home to watch “live streamed” classrooms--and then these groups flip the next day--so as to support social distance norms? If so, are our classrooms equipped with HD video cameras, mounted on tripods, to broadcast to those at home? Does our school have enough bandwidth to host simultaneous live-streaming in all of our classrooms? Do we need to hire a tech support person, perhaps at the school level, or perhaps to serve 3-4 schools collectively, so as to assist us in all this? And what assignments can we give that don’t require students to be permanently glued to a screen? With more time to assign reading, do kids have access to worthwhile books? Do classes without textbooks need to consider adopting textbooks so there’s a physical text if kids must stay at home? 

Third,  how will we plan ahead to absorb the likely negative financial impact on our budgets, should Covid19 re-appear next year? Can we help families who may have a one year liquidity problem? How will we pay for the technological improvements?   Do we need to implement a temporary reduction in our staffs? Temporary reductions in their benefits?  How can we reach out to our donors effectively, and convince them that their donations are needed now more than ever?

Finally, what are the practical considerations for our teachers, students and families in the “at home” environment? How can we make the home environment better for our teachers and staff, many of whom have parental responsibilities as well? And how do we find ways to support our stressed out students and parents? 

The professors suggest that one helpful idea for families, if we must return to social distancing, is to create “quarantine circles,” whereby 2-3 families pair up to intermingle, giving parents the chance to share child-rearing responsibilities, and giving children some sort of social outlet with children their own age, keeping the loop “closed” to all others. Have we outfitted our teachers with adequate laptops to teach virtually? Should we consider paying them to upgrade their internet speeds to avoid “buffering” while trying to teach lessons remotely? (It wouldn’t be a “benefit” but a work related expense). Can the school be a catalyst for social connections during lockdowns?  Between students? Between adults ? How do we make the role of our counselor more prominent, so as to offer sound advice and counsel to families while in lockdown? 

And these questions are just the beginning. 

——

It is likely that principals like me, reading all this for the first time, may despair of the costs for these proposals. How in the world can we afford to upgrade teachers’ internet access? Or purchase video cameras for every classroom? Laptops for every student?  Hire a school nurse? And we’re supposed to give more financial aid on top of that? “Come on,” we’d be inclined to say, “be real!” 

I've been struggling with that, but I think there are two points to make in response. 

In an absolutely unheard of  “gift” to our schools, the federal government is giving us 8 weeks of money to cover payroll this spring, provided we don’t lay off teachers to meet our budgets.  Depending on the size of our staff, that money will be in the hundreds of thousands of dollars.  Except in a few dire cases, then, we should end the year with a surplus that would have other wise gone to payroll.  Before we allow that money to disappear into the black hole of our operational budgets, I believe we should set aside a portion of it to support whatever our strategic plan for next year requires, including increased financial aid. 

Second, we should remember these are emergency measures until we find a vaccine.  So if we can muster up the funds to hire a school nurse, full time or part time, that’s not a permanent commitment. We keep a nurse until the crisis is over. We don’t commit to paying teachers’ internet costs in perpetuity, just until we stop doing distance learning as a routine part of our schooling. 

When we create budgets to take on whatever extra commitments we deem necessary, then, we need to think in terms of 2-3 years, a year or two of which may show some deficit spending.  Within two years, God willing, we’ll have a vaccine, we’ll return to normalcy, and we can be back in the black again. This is what businesses do, after all, when they start up. When St. Michael first opened, I knew we’d have to spend more money than we made, so as to hire first tier teachers and to convince our families we were worth investing in—in effect borrowing money against our future. That worked, and enrollment grew dramatically each year.  We’ll need to think this way to get us through the pandemic.   

Here’s what we must wrap our heads around: These are unprecedented times.  To hold ourselves to austere spending when our very survival is at risk, in light of a once in a life-time pandemic, is foolish. If we don’t create a bold, convincing plan that tells our families we are safe, that we are educationally sound, that we are technologically capable, and that we’re operating creatively, with the best interests of our teachers, students and families in mind—even if that costs us—we might lose these families permanently. 

On the other hand, if we DO create bold plans and publicize them well, folks will talk about us admiringly with their neighbors, co-workers and friends. After nearly two months of staying at home this spring, one thing is very clear from a parent perspective: If there’s a school in town that convinces them it has the best chance of staying open because of exceptional pre-planning-- getting their kids out of the house-- they're going to be “all in” with that school! 

Let’s view this as an opportunity for us to boost our standing and make us stronger.  May God give us wisdom, grace and boldness to create these plans. 

Carpe Diem! 

St. Michael, Coronavirus and Distance Learning

Here's what we're trying to do with students during the coronavirus shut-down. Paradigm shifts usually take years or decades, and we're trying to do this in a few days! As I said to our students and teachers, we'll both make a lot of mistakes as we bumble our way through the first few weeks. I'm sure we'll be making many adjustments on the fly!

Hiring a Principal

A school is only as good as its principal, at least over the long term. When we're looking for a principal, it is helpful to remember that we are "competing" against other schools to find the best possible candidate for our school. But too often, our application procedures are purely functional--what forms a candidate must send us before we might regard that person as a viable candidate.  

In contrast, I think we have a real opportunity to shape the kind of candidates we might get by the quality of our application process. 

I believe it's a mistake to begin the process asking for too much.  If our first "date" is loading someone down with paperwork--and the applicant isn't even sure if the employer might be interested in him or her--it's highly possible that he or she may choose some other suitor.  Better to ask only for a resume and cover letter on the front end. After we receive the resume, then WE can decide whether or not to pursue that person, and after an initial interview, make it clear that we're interested, and then ask the candidate to finish out the paperwork as a necessary prerequisite for a formal offer.  The key is this: we don't want to chase away talent before we've met them! 

I also believe it's worth taking time to create a distinctive job description for principal, so as to pique initial interest in the position. Bear in mind that a candidate is likely scrolling through multiple job offerings. Does our school stand out? Might we prompt an inquiry? Here's my attempt at that: 

Job Description for Catholic School Principal

The pay isn’t very good. Sometimes you’ll be gossiped about, and blamed for things that aren’t your fault. Occasionally, you’ll be mischaracterized publicly, or second-guessed for decisions you’ve made. You’ll be expected to be at a lot of night-time events, even though your work day begins at 7:30 a.m. or earlier. You’ll feel constantly behind on paperwork, late in responding to emails, never quite able to finish out your “to do list.”

You must broker peace between students, between parents and teachers, sometimes between employees. You are responsible for the safety of hundreds of children. You must minister to students who are wounded by dysfunctional families, divorce or separation. You’ll weep sometimes when you’re alone, overwhelmed by the crosses that some of your students carry. On particularly sad days, you may have to fire an employee, or meet with parents to tell them they must remove their child from your school.

On the other hand:

You are the architect in building a culture that can have a transformative effect on children—their relationship with God, how they regard themselves, and how they face their future. By the people you hire, by the policies and procedures you create, by the relationships you form, you will have a decisive impact on a community, and all those within it. You will exult in your students' success, celebrate their triumphs, beam with a parent’s pride as you watch them graduate—to high school, to college, to life.

“Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things,” Paul exhorts us (Philipians 4:8). The next principal of this school has the unparalleled opportunity to build upon what is noble, pure, and lovely in our students, enlivened by the grace of Christ within them.

And through weal and woe, good days and bad, like gold tested in a furnace, by refracting God’s light and mercy to those you serve each day, you will be reshaped, re-formed, and renewed-- becoming, however imperfectly, a new creation in Christ.

If interested, send us your resume and an introductory cover letter. 

The Spice of Life

I have a niece and nephew whom I would describe as "millennial Catholic yuppies." When my niece was pregnant with their first child, they began researching for the best Catholic elementary school in town, and once determined, began attending mass and tithing at that parish. Though it was on the other side of town, they’d heard only parishioners could get their children enrolled due to demand. Three years later, they moved to a neighborhood two blocks from the school. Now on the cusp of their daughter attending kindergarten in the fall, their plan is about to come to fruition. All is set. 

Except-- 

Last year, when their daughter was 4, my niece found out about a small Catholic elementary school with a three-day a week, half day program. Their daughter was anxious with other children, and the school sounded like a good intermediate step to get her ready for kindergarten (I repeat, my niece is a yuppie!). The problem was the school was a good 30 minute drive each way through traffic from their new home—ironically, much closer to their previous home. Well, my niece reasoned, they would try it, and if it didn’t pan out, no harm, no foul. 

But from the first day, my grand-niece has loved this little school. She looks forward to going each morning, dressing up in uniform like a “big girl,” and she babbles excitedly about what she did that day with my niece on their drive home. Suddenly, unexpectedly, the choice for kindergarten next year has become unclear. Will my niece enroll her in the “best” Catholic elementary school just around the corner? Or will she keep trekking through traffic to take her to this small, much less affluent, school each day? 

How can this even be a question? What is it about this little school that has so captured my grand-niece's imagination, and made her parents' decision so difficult? 

It’s a Catholic Montessori school--a really good one, in my niece’s estimation. It isn't much to look at--just an abandoned retail building, retrofitted into a small school. But the structured play, the joyful optimism, the exceptional catechetical program (“Cathechesis of the Good Shepherd”) and the generous, talented teachers all combine to create a school where my grand-niece and the other children are thriving. A small group of parents began it because they believed the Montessori model would be best for their young children. My niece told me recently, only half-jokingly, that she’s been looking for property closer to home so she can begin a Catholic Montessori school herself. 

Though this school is not a diocesan one, it's been on my mind as I think about our Church's schools, and especially our  preK-8 elementary schools. There’s no need here to get into a long-winded discussion of all the demographic, economic and social reasons they’ve struggled these last fifty years--that history has been well documented. I am only really interested in ideas that may help them, that may cause parents to reconsider our schools anew. And offering a “Montessori option,” I believe, is one of many ways, perhaps, to do just that. 

Here’s (part of) the problem. When we say a “diocesan Catholic elementary school,” we have in mind a template of what that means. The structure of the school is essentially the same, the curriculum conforms to “diocesan standards,” the qualifications for teachers are diocesan-wide,  the professional development of teachers and principals is mostly led by the central office, the schools follow the same calendar throughout the year, and the basic school hours, 8 a.m. to 3 p.m., 5 days a week, apply to all. Even tuitions are roughly the same!   

For larger, more affluent schools in thriving neighborhoods, the diocesan model works well; they can supplement the diocesan template with bells and whistles, and house their programs in newer, nicer buildings.  But for schools in declining areas with declining enrollments, why would parents send their children there, if they can drive an extra 15 or 30 minutes and get the same program at the affluent school, with all the bells and whistles, at nearly the same cost?

They won’t-- at least not in enough numbers for our struggling schools to turn things around. We’re frittering away too much time and money, stressing on how to “market” better, as if polishing up our veneer is the missing ingredient that will help parents see the light-- but the truth of it is, there is not enough that is compelling to persuade families to rejoin us. And if our schools are essentially the same, we’re just dividing up the (diminishing) pie into (smaller) pieces, without ever making the pie bigger. 

“Variety is the spice of life.” 

If we’re going to keep our diocesan schools open, we’re going to have to start giving parents true choices about where they send their children. Why NOT a diocesan Montessori school? Why not a “Classical Christian” diocesan school? What about a “diocesan Dual Language school,” with the boldly stated goal that “all students who attend our school from K-8 will be bilingual upon leaving 8th grade?” Why not experiment with calendars--if a year round school is appealing to enough families to make it viable, why not? What if a school decided it wanted to be open from 8-6 each day, so as to help working parents, and to do so, gave longer recesses and breaks to its students? What if a school decided to go longer hours Monday through Thursday but close at noon on Friday?

We must start thinking this way. Tim Uhl, the superintendent of Montana Catholic Schools who hosts a national podcast, once asked a question that haunts me: “Here’s a thought question, “ he said. “If our schools were free, would we fill them? And if not, why not?” While there’s no doubt that cost is a factor for some, my suspicion is that it’s really a value--proposition for most: not enough “red meat” for the money. We won't draw families back into our demographically-challenged schools unless we give parents a compelling reason to go.

We’re going to need to get creative to meet people where they are. And quickly! We are losing something precious.