As Admissions professionals, we spend a fair amount of time thinking about how to attract and yield families. What will appeal? How can we highlight our welcoming community? While I have played a role in Admissions since 1991 and am currently the Director of Enrollment at The Wolf School in Rhode Island, the lessons I learned about Admissions and how to appeal to families came mostly from being a parent going through the process myself.
We Never Planned on Independent School
My husband and I did not plan to be independent school parents. Even though I had always worked in independent schools, we built a house in a lovely community that supposedly had wonderful schools. However, once our children came along, we realized that their learning profiles were going to be better served in a setting that was smaller, more individualized, and more focused on individual success. Yes, we needed to look at independent schools.
Most of my colleagues over the years had their children attend the school in which they worked. It made sense from a scheduling standpoint. It was convenient. Furthermore, if you really believed in and supported the school in which you worked, why wouldn’t you want your child to be there as a student? However, we ran into two major stumbling blocks. First, I was commuting a distance that often ran close to an hour with traffic (Boston suburbs!), which we felt was too much for the children. Second, we weren’t 100% sure that my school was the right “fit” academically for our children. So, we decided to look closer to home.
First Visit
The first school we visited was one where I had substitute taught while the children were very young and I was sure it was a fabulous fit. I just had to convince my husband who had never been there (and was a successful product of New Jersey’s public school system). We had a private appointment for a parent interview and tour and the first thing that went wrong was a woman “dropped by” and asked if she could have a tour (unscheduled) just as we were leaving on our tour. Everyone turned to us and said, “Do you mind?” and she assured us that she was just there to look. Well, you can guess the outcome. We went on a tour where we spent a great deal of time in spaces of the school that I was already familiar with and with a woman who asked non-stop questions. I made a mental note that I would never do this to a family, no matter how short-staffed I was. The next nail in the coffin occurred when the mother with all the questions asked about the dress code (this was a school where the children dressed formally: blazers, ties, dress clothes). The answer given was: “We have the children dress in corporate casual because these children will all be joining the corporate world in the future.” BIG MISTAKE. My mouth dropped open because this was one of the most privileged answers I had ever been given about dress codes. I saw my husband’s face shut down. He had grown up in a large working-class family and had received a full scholarship to college. He was a first-generation college graduate. I, too, had grown up in a working-class family. This casual remark caused this school to get crossed off the list as it made both of us feel very uncomfortable and that there was a strong value being placed on only being upper middle class. My husband turned to me as we got in the car and said, “And what if they don’t want to be in the corporate world??” I had no answer.
Trying Another
Next, we visited another nearby school that had recently lowered tuition to make it more accessible to families. Cautiously optimistic, we arrived. This atmosphere was far more casual and had an “earthy crunchy” vibe. The teachers were approachable. The science teacher had a wonderful conversation with my husband (who is a scientist). Remarkably, the Head of Lower School approached us and knew whose parents we were. She was so gratuitous and seemed genuinely happy that we were looking at the school, that I couldn’t get over it. When we returned with the children, she greeted them by name and knew things from their files (what they enjoyed, etc.). I felt known there and seen - two things that I did not feel at the first school.
Meanwhile, back at the house, I had received a handwritten note from the first school, thanking us for visiting and inviting us to bring the children. I was impressed that someone had taken the time to hand-write out a personal note. I made a mental note to do more hand-written notes in my work. Again, it made us feel seen (though my husband was still not convinced he could move past the “corporate” remark).
Maybe Single-Sex?
A visit to a single-gender school was next, and I attended it for my daughter. This was a school I was familiar with but had not visited in a long while. During the Head of School’s remarks, they had a young woman stand up and talk about how the school had changed her life. She was in eighth grade now but had entered several years earlier and she had a reading disability. Her talk was so moving and inspirational that I got teary. “Yes!” I thought. “I want my daughter to grow up to be as confident and positive about herself as a learner as this young woman! This school must be wonderful!” Having student ambassadors that can highlight for parents how their children can develop while at your school is a powerful thing. It is particularly powerful, I think, if your child is currently struggling in their educational journey. It’s like viewing a happy ending.
Elizabeth Nolan Conners
Director of Enrollment
The Wolf School