A No-Cost, High Impact School Makeover (part I)

(This is a summary of a portion of a talk I gave at the NCEA Conference in Dallas, April 12, 2023)

A good friend of mine is in the restaurant business, which is brutally competitive. The average new restaurant lasts only three years before it folds, but my friend has been in the business over 25 years and runs five delis, partly a testament to how hard he works, but also a testament to his wisdom. Every 4-5 years, he reinvests significant monies in his restaurants to give them a complete makeover. He changes the menu, the color schemes, the storefront, and even remodels the interior. It must cost him quite a bit.  I was curious this last cycle, so I asked him:  “You have great brand recognition around town. Your food is good, your service is top notch. Business is booming. Is it really necessary to spend all this money sprucing the place up, when it’s not “broken?”

His answer? “Absolutely. “In the restaurant business,” he explained,  “everyone likes NEW, fresh, clean. If I didn’t re-present us to our customers every few years, we’d lose them quickly.” 

I’ve  been thinking about our Catholic schools this way lately. We are inclined to talk about the “tradition” of our school and how we’ve served our communities for decades or even centuries, but we’re not too good at re-inventing and re-presenting ourselves to our communities. And perhaps that’s why, in addition to demographic changes outside of our control, our schools are declining in enrollment and even closing. We could learn a lot from my friend! 

Realizing, however, that we don’t have the money to do major capital improvements, I am proposing we can do “make-overs” to our school with very little money.

What’s the key? How we talk about ourselves! 

Our language is critical.  As a young principal, if you had suggested to me I needed to be more reflective of the language I used, I would have responded with some sarcasm: “Language? What planet are you living on? I don’t have time to waste time! I am putting out fires, solving problems, implementing programs.”  In other words, I understood my job as principal almost purely in functional terms—what I did, not what I said. 

But as I’ve become older, I’ve realized that language, if used carefully and consistently, helps build a school culture. 

And what’s the importance of a school culture? EVERYTHING! It shapes the kind of teachers we attract, the kind of families that apply, and the student’s self-understanding of who they are and what they should be doing. It determines how hard people work, whether they hold each other accountable and whether the community supports the direction of the school. In the words of Peter Drucker, author of 39 books and the guru of modern management, “Culture eats strategy for breakfast.” It doesn’t matter how clever the initiative, how advanced the training, how well we execute the plan. If the culture doesn’t support it, the initiative will fail. 

So how should we talk about ourselves to create a culture that is optimistic, confident and pushes kids and teachers to excel? I’ve worked the last ten years or so to upgrade how I talk about our schools in this way, and I offer perhaps my best 25 iterations here. Feel free to use whatever works for you. Summarizing,   I have six general points of emphasis:

1) We should focus on our “why” and not so much our “what.” I recommend Simon Sinek’s video, “Start with the Why" which has over 20 million views on YouTube.

 

"How did Apple become a multi-billion dollar corporation?" he asks. Not by telling us what great computers they make. Not, he contends,  by explaining how their computers were different from their competition. Rather, Apple makes this striking claim, "Everything we do, we believe in challenging the status quo. We believe in thinking differently.” And the implicit appeal? If you also “Think Different,” then you’ll want to invest in our products—not just computers, but iPods, IPads, IPhones, watches, etc.

I think Sinek is spot on. People are not moved by our eloquent descriptions of how we operate or what we do—our test scores, our 1:1 technology program, our curricular requirements. What resonates most is the “why!” And here’s the most powerful way I’ve found to talk about our why, from C.S. Lewis’ Mere Christianity: 

“Imagine we are a living house, and God comes in to make repairs. At first, we understand what he is doing—fixing the leaky faucet, cleaning out gutters. We knew those things needed doing, and we appreciate it. But presently he starts knocking about the house in a way that hurts abominably: tearing down walls, putting out gardens, erecting towers. And we say, “What on earth is he up to?” The answer is we thought we were building a nice little cottage. But he’s building a palace! He intends to come live there himself.”

Lewis is not talking about Catholic schools specifically, but he could be. We believe that our schools help build palaces in the life of our kids—cathedrals, even!--places where God will reside. If we start talking about this vision that we have for students, that we believe in the power of God's grace to elevate and transform our students' lives, then like a string that resonates when it is matched with a musical note of the same frequency, so too will our “why” resonate within the hearts of our prospective parents. 

At Prince of Peace, I’ve asked our choral director to sing one stanza of “Lord Prepare Me" every week as the last song at communion time during our school mass. The lyrics are simple: “Lord, prepare me to be a sanctuary. Pure and holy, tried and true. With thanksgiving, I’ll be a living, sanctuary for you.” Hearing 770 kids sing that each week reminds everyone present of the essence of our mission: to become sanctuaries for Jesus. I get choked up almost every week it's so beautiful. 

2) Be simple and direct. I was told the story of two high school principals who were invited by a large diocesan elementary school to “pitch” their school to parents of 8th graders. The principals were given 15 minutes to speak, with a question/answer session would follow. The first principal used all of his time, talking about the school’s spiritual, academic, athletic, and artistic offerings. Parents listened, but began to fidget toward the end. They were going to have to listen to this all over again!  But the second principal stood up and simply said, “The purpose of our high school is to work with you to form disciples of Jesus Christ. I’d be happy to answer any questions you might have.“ Then he sat down. Were it not for politeness, the parents would have cheered. Which principal do you think was asked more questions?

People like simple. They like “white space.” If a paragraph is too long, they may scan it, but they won’t read it closely. Alas, it’s a twitter world! Every day, marketers estimate we see between 4,000 and 10,000 advertisements! They’re all noisily clamoring for our attention, and if anything calls us to focus and concentrate, we’re likely to gloss over it. So getting to the point is crucial. 

Let me apply this insight to school mission statements. When I first arrived at Prince of Peace in Dallas, this was our mission statement: 

Prince of Peace Catholic School is devoted to instilling strong Catholic values, fostering a life of faith and servant leadership, providing a challenging academic environment, and inspiring each student to shine to the fullest extent of his or her God-given potential.

I contend there is no part of this mission statement which is wrong. But, no one can remember it! I also contend, about half way through reading it, the average person begins drifting away from thinking about what they’re reading.  As a result, it lacked any practical utility in the life of our school. 

 

I am a big believer in the power of “three.” School House Rock from the 1970’s used to have a song called "Three is a Magic Number" (see clip). Marketers agree that people can remember three things in their mind—the shortest number of things required to establish a pattern. I believe that school mission statements should focus on three words or phrases as the “essence” of what the school is trying to do. Here are few examples of what I consider effective mission statements using this principle:

Montgomery Catholic High (Montgomery, AL) aims to create “students of faith, virtue and wisdom.”

St. Michael Catholic High (Fairhope, AL) seeks to form “scholars, leaders and disciples of Jesus Christ.” 

Moeller High School (Cincinnati) says simply: Catholic. Marianist. Forming our students into remarkable men.” 

Montgomery Bell Academy (Nashville) aims to create “gentlemen, scholars and athletes.”

I worked with the teachers and Council at Prince of Peace to rewrite our mission statement according to this principle. Here’s our new one:

The mission of Prince of Peace Catholic School is to form students who are faithful, prepared,  and confident that they can do great things through Christ who strengthens them.

The words “faithful, prepared and confident” are now everywhere in our school and school materials. 

Improving Math Performance in Catholic Elementary Schools

Typically Catholic school students outperform the national averages on normed testing, but our math scores usually lag behind our reading scores.

My theory on that is most of our elementary teachers have more aptitude and interest in ELA than Math. They do their due diligence teaching Math, but their passion and creativity are poured into what they are best at. When was the last time you saw a math problem or project hanging in our hallways?

So as the new head of Pope John Paul II in Nashville in 2008, when I reviewed incoming placement test scores from tiny Sumner Academy in Gallatin, TN and saw their extraordinary math scores, I originally figured it was a statistical quirk. But when they scored just as high the next year, I was really curious, and asked Dr. Bill Hovenden, its head of school, if I could visit.

He was gracious and welcomed me. This is my memory of our conversation:

“What are you doing here in Math?” I asked. “Your scores are incredible.”

He was pleased I had noticed. “Well, I’ve done something here for 20 years most of my colleagues consider heresy. I departmentalize teachers, all the way down to kindergarten. I group our school into three units: K-2, 3-5 and 6-8. For each group I hire three teachers: a math/science teacher, an ELA teacher and a third teacher for everything else, depending on the age. Each teacher works with our kids for three years.”

“You mean you ring a bell and have kids change classes, like we do in high school? I asked.

“Not quite,” he said. “Teachers change classrooms. Kids stay put in K-5. They change rooms in 6-8.”

“Why does it work?”

“Because most people with good minds in math are terrified to teach English and vice-versa. If I offer teacher candidates the chance to teach only math and science, they jump at the chance! So in my school, I have three really bright math and science people who bring a lot of energy and knowledge to those classes. What you see as they enter your high school is the 9-year impact of that.”

“Four other good things about the model,” he wanted me to know.

“Because a teacher is with the same students for three years, he or she really knows their academic strengths and weaknesses to begin the year. That saves a lot of time.”

“Second, the bonds here become very strong, between teachers and students, and between teachers and parents, most of the time.”

“Third, vertical integration of the curriculum is better. We only have to coordinate 3 people for each discipline.”

“Finally, there is good collaboration among the teachers in each unit. I make sure they have the same free period. They teach the same kids, after all, so they can talk about what works for each one. And when one teacher gets sick or goes on maternity leave, it’s much easier to induct the substitute into the school. I ask the other two teachers to look after him or her.”

It works. Sumner Academy does good work with its kids.

Recruiting Catholic Elementary Students Into Our High Schools

How can we persuade our elementary school families to enroll their children in our high schools? 

Most high schools, especially if there are multiple Catholic high schools in the area, have some form of an “8th grade visitation day,” inviting the entire 8th grade from each Catholic elementary school to visit for a day. Our 8th graders at Prince of Peace visit four Dallas Catholic high schools, typically in October.  It’s a kind of a “kick-off” for recruitment. Placement tests, applications and interviews come next. 

As a high school principal for three decades, I did it this way, too. 

But now, as an elementary school president, my perspective has changed. 

If you ask 8th graders in September (I do this), where they hope to attend high school next year, most have a definite first choice. Yes, the visits to follow might persuade a few to change their minds, but more often than not, the visits only confirm a choice they’ve already made, and there’s a selection bias coming in: they are predisposed to find reasons to like the school they already want to attend. 

The point is, by 8th grade, the “battle lines” have been mostly drawn. For this reason, I now think it would be prudent for high schools to invite 7th graders for the general visit, not 8th graders, and then develop a comprehensive 2-year campaign to pull these students (and their parents!) into the life of the high school. 

During that 7th grade visitation, I suggest developing profiles: What are their interests? Do they play a sport? Are they involved with band, choir, cheerleading, dancing, scouts? What parish do they belong to? What are their hobbies? Where did their parents attend school?where do their older siblings attend? If 5 were a definite “yes” and 1 a definite “no” with 3 as “neutral at this point,” on a scale of 1-5, could they see themselves attending here? Also, if they “had to guess”, how might their parents answer that question? 

Each admissions person might then be given a “portfolio” of possible applicants it was his or her job to enroll. They would do so through both general outreach and specific, targeted appeals.

The general outreach could be through hosting regional social events (like “learn how to line dance” events or Halloween celebrations, or Christmas parties), academic enrichment opportunities (such as “preparing for the high school placement test” or a workshop for parents, like “What you need to know about competitive college admissions and how to begin preparing now”). Can the high school offer Saturday morning “Preparing for high school” or “study skills”  classes, with parents invited to “hang out” with free coffee and WiFi in the high school library?

The targeted appeals would match student interests with specific programs in the high school. For example, admissions could coordinate meetings between middle school  football players (and parents) with the weight training coaches, for a “workout session.” The coach could tell them “what they can be doing now” to get ready for high school athletics, including nutrition information. Could the high school coaches occasionally visit middle school practices and run a few drills? Could they invite elementary teams to have an occasional practice “under the lights” of the stadium, or in the high school gyms? Could the high school dance team invite kids to a clinic?  Could talented musicians be invited to play or sing for some  high school functions? At minimum, could they and their parents be personally invited to the plays and musical events hosted by the high school? 

Yes, this is a lot of work! But enrollment drives EVERYTHING: budgets, salaries, advancement dollars,  and the general perception of how the school is doing. As school leaders, we must be sure we’ve equipped our school with the RIGHT staff, and ENOUGH staff, to do it well! 

The "Green Eggs and Ham Hypothesis" and Tight Budgets

Many of us assume that the best setting for artistic expression and creativity is one that is free of all external constraints. Without these constraints to inhibit us, the thinking goes, the artist is at liberty to create according to where-ever his genius leads him, unshackled by convention. Fewer constraints = more freedom = more creativity = greater originality. 

Except, that’s wrong.  

In 1957, Theodore Geisel published one of the best selling children’s book of all time.  His publisher challenged him to write his next children's book using only 50 or fewer distinct words. Geisel agonized over this challenge,  according to his biographer,  “putting maps on the wall, vocabulary words, and flow charts.”  Three years later, he prevailed. Theodore Seuss Geisel, or "Dr. Seuss" as he was more popularly known, published “Green Eggs and Ham” in 1960. It  turned out to be his most successful book,  outselling  “The Cat in the Hat” by several million copies. 

“The Green Eggs and Ham hypothesis,” so named by psychologist Catrinol Crump of Rider University, holds that when we face a completely open ended problem—a blank page or empty canvas—we reach for associations that come first to mind, gravitating to the solutions that have worked well for us in the past. Constraints, on the other hand, force us to look deeper and further to satisfy the demands placed on us. We tap into knowledge that was previously underdeveloped and re-organize and re-structure the information to make connections we otherwise wouldn’t have considered.  Constraints, according to Crump and supported by the research of many others, ENHANCE creativity. 

I find that to be true in my professional career. I’ve been principal or president of four different schools. By far the school with the least amount of resources was my first school, Montgomery Catholic High. We ran a very tight ship out of necessity—a “good year” for us financially meant we broke even. And yet, we were truly a laboratory of innovation, due partly to the genius of the school’s president, Dr. Thomas Doyle, but also because necessity required it for us to remain competitive with schools that were far wealthier.

Every other year, we’d host  a “Legislative Convention,” whereby the parents and faculty comprised the “Senate” and the students comprised the “House of Representatives.” Any “Senator” or “Congressman” could propose any bill he or she wanted about any rule in the school, and if it passed both chambers, it would become instant school law.  “Anything we want ?” a wide-eyed freshman once asked me, with a huge smile on his face. “Suppose I introduced a bill saying we will abolish uniforms?" “Yes, you can write a bill that says that,” I said, “but remember, for a bill to become law, you also have to get it through the Senate.” I saw him a few days later. "It died in a Senate committee," he said, flustered. "The Senate never even voted on it."  It was a fabulous learning opportunity for the kids, and the whole process created real ownership across all levels of our community. 

We had a unique grading system, where every test was tiered into three parts: a “C level” portion, a “B level,” and an “A level,” all based upon Blooms Taxonomy, with each level requiring a successively higher form of thinking. To get the A, a student had to first pass the “C” and “B” levels. It had a profoundly positive effect on our students' ability to think. We did a “January Interim” semester, whereby students went to school for just 3 1/2 hours in January, taking just one class, which allowed them to take field trips, do extended science experiments, and really dive deeply into the subject area. One year we tried a four day week, with each day lasting 10 hours, taking off Fridays. We hated it almost right away and ditched it at the end of the year.  We required “performance assessments” as 50% of the final exam in each core class.  In the early 2000’s, we changed our governance structure, taking two parish K-8 schools and making them into K-6 schools, building a new middle school on the high school campus, and renaming them all as “Montgomery Catholic Preparatory School,” explaining it as  “one school on three campuses,” led by a single president and Board. Twenty years later, MCPS is thriving. Every other year or so, we did something brand new.  Some ideas flopped, like the 4 day week, but we regarded these as “noble failures.” Some ideas were fantastic! The net effect was we were very highly regarded, able to "punch above our weight class" with  area private schools that charged two or three times what we charged.  

It’s easy to let pessimism creep into our language when our resources are limited. “Our hands are tied,” we might say. Or “If we had the same money as school X down the street, we would…” or “We can ask that of our families—but they can’t afford it.” But each time we say these things, we communicate to our families that we are puny, sowing doubt that we are able to deliver on our mission. And when we start communicating our powerlessness, we will find ourselves in a death spiral that is hard to pull out of. 

Instead, let us accept the “givens” of our situation and work creatively to do great things within these givens! If we lean into our constraints rather than curse them, there’s a kind of liberation that can inspire us to act boldly. May God give us the boldness to do his will! 

 

Five Considerations For Small Catholic Schools

The N.C.E.A. has recently published a book and sponsored a series of podcasts for small Catholic schools,  the purposes of which are to equip principals, diocesan leaders and board members with tools to help these schools become self-sustaining and to grow, as well as to build networks of support and collaboration. 

I have been a principal of two relatively small Catholic high schools, 330 students or less, for most of my career. The N.C.E.A.’s suggestions resonate with my experience. Adding (I hope) to that discussion, here are my top five considerations for those of us leading small schools: 

First, do I have something worth selling?  I believe in Catholic education; indeed, I’ve attended Catholic schools as a student, teacher or principal every year since I entered kindergarten in 1967. All four of my children have attended Catholic  schools, K through 12. But if being “Catholic” were enough of a reason for parents to choose  our schools, we wouldn't be closing so many of them. 

Tim Uhl, now superintendent of the diocese of Buffalo, NY, once asked this provocative question on his “Catholic School Matters” podcast:  “If my tuition were FREE, would I fill my school? And if not, why not? “

Here’s how I might frame it:  Do we offer a unique program, different from the larger, wealthier, Catholic schools 10-15 minutes away from us? People assume it’s good for a small, struggling school to be part of a diocesan “system” of schools, but if that system insists we hire teachers with the same credentials, that we teach the same curriculum, that we follow the same yearly calendar, or begin and end school each day at roughly the same time, the “system” is virtually guaranteeing we can’t compete. What if I could be a dual language school? What if I could be a year-round school, with afternoon pick up times at 5:30 p.m. to assist working families? What if I were a diocesan school that followed a classical curriculum? Or if my pre-K3 through first grade program were based on the Montessori model? I’ve written more about this here.

Second, what am I unwittingly saying about myself to others? When we are worried about our enrollments, we often project ourselves as “poor, poor pitiful me” without meaning to do so. We are too apt to use powerless phrases like “my hands are tied,” or “If we had the money,” or “if we were larger.” But each time we use these phrases, we undercut our community’s confidence in us to be places that are strong enough to deliver an excellent education.  Being small should not prevent us from having large, bold aspirations, though it often does that to us, without us noticing.

Very deliberately, we should layer our school with mission statements, operational principles, and stories that convey the sense that we are a “small but mighty” community, full of optimism and confidence in the power of our school to transform children’s lives.  

It starts with our mission statements. Are our mission statement too wordy, and thus completely forgettable? We should change them! Make them simple, but aspirational. I’ve written about this here, and given examples.  Can we articulate the unshakeable principles of the school to which all of us agree? If not, we should work with our most literate teachers and try to do so, then wordsmith it down so that we say something that is stirring and poignant. 

And do we take the time to tell stories that show our mission in action? Do we use the “bully pulpit” of our job as principals to share these stories at PTO meetings? At new parent orientations? At sports banquets? Do we put our kids in a position to visibly “incarnate” this mission for all to see? For example, I ask our male and female “Ideal Graduates” to address our families at the end of our baccalaureate mass, reflecting on their four years at our school-just a two minute talk. Their joy, their faith, their enthusiasm for life serve as an eloquent testimony to the beauty of our school’s mission. 

Third, what does my tuition-setting say to others about our school? Many of us are reluctant to raise tuitions substantially for fear of losing our most vulnerable families, making our enrollments even worse. And we’ve inherited a legacy from the sisters where Catholic schools were, by today’s standards,  almost free!  As a result, many of our schools are the cheapest non-public schools in town. While noble on one level, in a free market economy, people typically associate price with quality. If I am the “K-Mart” of educational options available, people will regard me as inferior.  Don’t misread me. I don’t want us to be an “elite” private school that caters only to wealthy families. We lose our souls as a Catholic school if we go that route! Rather, I believe we should aim our tuitions for the middle of the market, and then generously increase financial aid to families who need help to meet our elevated targets.

 
To reflect on this further: In desperation for students, some liberal arts colleges have announced, with as much fanfare as possible, that they’re cutting their tuitions in half. I am sure their internal logic is they were likely only getting 50% of what they charged in tuition anyway, due to financial aid. So why not parlay that reality into something that garners attention? My answer: “Because they’ve  just told everyone that their school is only half as good as they once said it was!”  But we do this all the time in our Catholic schools. Perhaps once upon a time, given the unassailable reputation of the sisters who ran and staffed our schools, being “cheap” was attractive in the marketplace. You knew you were getting a “deal” because the sisters were so amazing. But the sisters are gone now, and parents are more apt to reason that a cheap Catholic school cannot charge more because the locals know it’s not worth it.  

Fourth, do I have a strategic plan that lays out our school’s dreams for the future?  Some of my colleagues say that creating a strategic plan is a waste of valuable time, and indeed, most schools do not have one. But I believe that’s a huge mistake. By focusing on the “what if?” our school is able to present itself as creative and pro-active about its future—two characteristics  often missing in struggling schools. And it doesn’t cost anything to dream! 

In the years leading up to his death, self-made Nashville entrepreneur Jim Carell began to give away much of his fortune to charitable causes, many of them to schools, including Pope John Paul II, where I was the principal. His reasons for being generous, he told me, was “I can’t take it with me, and this way, I  enjoy seeing how my money can help people.”  As you might imagine, there were many of us lined up at his door!  

Once, I had occasion to visit him just after he had been solicited by a struggling school in the area.  He told me, grumpily, that the same school had asked for a gift the previous year "to keep from closing"  they had told him.  He gave them what they asked for, but they were back again this year, making the same appeal, so he told them no.  "Here’s the thing," he said to me, "I don’t back losers. It’s just throwing my money away.” 

That statement “I don’t back losers,” may sound harsh, but it’s a window into how donors think about their charitable giving. If, through their giving, they are merely sustaining the “same ole, same ‘ole” in our schools for another 6-12 months, their enthusiasm for giving diminishes rapidly. Rather, they want to know their giving can act as a catalyst for new ideas and programs at the school, that their gifts have the potential to re-vitalize our schools! 

This is where a strategic plan can really help us—it allows us to talk thoughtfully and optimistically about our future to potential donors, and for that matter, to the families of potential students. Here’s what we’ve done at our school.

Fifth, do I have the right people in place? When I was a younger principal, I believed I had an obligation to give weaker teachers and staff members a significant amount of rope to “improve.” But I no longer think that. My job as principal is to find the right people to effectively implement the school’s mission for the sake of our kids. If a teacher takes 5 years to become minimally effective, I’ve hurt four years worth of students. To be more specific: If I have someone whom lives COUNTER to our mission, I immediately remove that person, or at best, I don’t offer that person a contract for next year. And if I have someone who can only weakly advance the mission, I give that person an improvement plan for next year, and determine if he or she has been effective in meeting that plan before rehiring the following year. Incremental improvement is not enough. 

Hiring the right teachers is the most important thing we do as principals. Here’s the four characteristics I seek in the hiring process: Teachers must be deeply knowledgeable about their subject matter and curious to learn more, they must have a kind of “with-it-ness” around their students (which cannot be really taught)  they must love teenagers and enjoy their company, and they must be on fire to serve the Lord.  If I find teachers who hit all four of those marks, they will be powerful witnesses our mission, and give people a living answer to the question, “Why this Catholic school?”

Concluding Thoughts: As a principal of a small Catholic high school,  I want people to view us as plucky, creative, fiercely independent, bold in our aspirations, confident, and strong. I want people to hear over and over again phrases such as “small but mighty,” “passionate about changing lives,” “excited about possibilities for our future,” “proud of our students,” and that there’s an “optimism for excellence” here. And I want us to be known for our evangelical zeal, that the Christian life is “joyful,” “a challenging adventure,” and that our school invites students to “not conform to this world, but to be transformed by the renewal of their minds” so as to discern God’s will for their lives.  

If we start thinking of ourselves this way,  if we start using this language around our schools, if we position our schools as unique in the marketplace and set tuitions accordingly, if we develop forward thinking strategic plans and hire grace-filled, hard working teachers to implement these plans, we’re on a very nice trajectory in building a successful, self-sustaining Catholic school. And as far as enrollment growth and fund raising, we are 80% there!

May God give us the courage and grace to lead our schools accordingly!