Long-Term Investment

We are to the point whereby the sound of airplane wheels touching down on terra firma is almost drown out by the deafening sound of Blackberries, iPhones, and Androids, etc. simultaneously clicking on and the rings, chirps and bells of missed texts, calls, and emails filling the cabin. How can we have gone so long (even on the ½ hour USAirways Shuttle flight from Reagan to LaGuardia!) without contact, without being in the know? We must catch up immediately—we must know what we have missed!

The 21st Century has ushered in an era of constant contact and immediate gratification, and the demand for convenience and speed has never been greater. Do any of the following sound familiar to you? Or about you?! You find it unreasonable that it takes the microwave 3-5 minutes to accomplish certain things. You can’t believe how endless is the wait in the Starbuck’s drive-thru lane. You think downloading a full-length feature movie from iTunes is simply exhausting. And let’s not even get started that FedEx can’t promise anything earlier than 8am the next morning to rural Africa!

That’s our life, right? The “new reality”. We adapt. What’s the big deal? Well, the potential big deal is an article from last week’s New York Times sent to me by Kristin Dabney (whose daughters attend James River Day School), in which the chairman of the economics department at Brigham Young University proclaims the price tag of elite education a long-term investment. His study—and the related newspaper article—is focused on elite higher education but I don’t think it’s a stretch to extrapolate that to elite independent school education.

His study makes the case for paying for just such an elite education (future earnings, graduate school admissions, etc.) but he does specify that families must be willing to think this way and to see the future benefit and payoff from today’s investment in tuition. Are we in the same boat? Not entirely. I think that some benefits of an independent school education are more immediate, more obvious, and more measurable. TABS has done an excellent job of providing proof points for boarding schools and NAIS to a lesser degree for the larger industry.

But what about YOUR school? Once a family wraps their head around paying independent school tuition, what proof points can you offer from your own school that are evidence of long-term payoffs for the investment as well as feed the beast that is parental immediate gratification? What is your school’s evidence?

Don’t leave the beast hungry, as it won’t wait long before it goes down the road to another school for what it needs. It is, after all, in a hurry.

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown!

A Charlie Brown Christmas was on television last week: what a classic! In watching it one can’t help but remember their childhood, the many times they have seen it over the years. In watching it, I started to wonder if such a show would ever be created today. What are the chances as we creep up on 2011 that a modern children’s holiday special would be so overtly Christmas-y as to feature a scene with a child reciting from the Gospel of St. Luke?

But please don’t stop reading—I promise this isn’t a post about political correctness! It’s about being true to who you are. Without sounding judgmental, I imagine any newly created holiday special would include a carefully crafted balance of gender, race and religion, maybe finding a uniting thread across the folds as the theme of the show. This is all good...in theory.

But in doing so, don’t they risk losing any meaningful message, becoming nothing to anyone by endeavoring to be something to everyone?

And there is the risk to our schools and our offices, particularly in difficult times. When we stretch our definition of who we are and whom we serve we run that same risk of becoming nothing to anyone. When we relax (which is just a nice word for “compromise”) our admissions standards and criteria, we risk diluting our institutions. We dilute our professionalism and credibility. And we fail to serve school, student or self.

Today on Morning Joe, it was asked of Congressman Zach Wamp (R-TN) what marked a quality legislator during these difficult times. “Consistency” was his answer. The mark of a congressman (or that of an admissions director) was being consistent in your convictions even during the difficult times, even when faced with challenges. As adults we know the difficulties and challenges will come to pass. They always do.

How we managed them—and ourselves—will be our legacy.

$300 Wine

The families who pay the full tuition at our schools make up the wealthiest citizens. NAIS places them around the top 3% income earners in the country. While they have also had their share of impact from the current economic crisis, it is relative. So if they still have the money, then how has the economy impacted their thinking, their choices?

I have had the opportunity in the last couple of weeks to speak with some very wealthy folks. We’ve discussed how spending and decision-making has changed. In a word: value. They still have the money to spend and they are still willing to spend it but they are more thoughtful about their choices. What can they get for their dollars? Like before, they are willing to drop $300 on a bottle of wine at dinner. The difference? They now want to spend $300 on a bottle that is actually worth $400. An article in the recent Conde Nast Traveller magazine mirrored this mindset. This demographic is still willing to pay $800 per night at a resort but now they want daily complimentary breakfast, pick-up from the airport, and a spa credit. Now they want value.

When families look at our schools, they assume certain things. They imagine good teachers and superior academics. Right? When were you last asked about the hiring process for teachers or about their professional development? They expect we are thoughtful in our hiring and in our admissions. They assume cutting-edge technology, the safety of their child, and a commitment to excellence. And before they were willing if not happy to pay for that.

But where is the value we can offer now? What can we offer that is not found at other schools…or at least at other schools they may typically consider? What value can we offer so they feel as they are getting a $60,000 experience and education for their child while only paying $45,000? These folks didn’t become the country’s top earners without being smart and savvy.

It may be exhausting if not annoying (or insulting or frustrating...) to think we need to find something to offer more than an excellent education for their child that sets them up for life but if we want to have the edge in challenging economic times with these important families who pay full tuition we better figure out what value we offer.

Four Diamonds

You pull up to the TABS hotel and you’re not too impressed. Walk into the lobby and still not impressed. The wait to check-in? Not impressive. (Although the desk clerk who checked me in was most impressive! Give credit where credit is due.) But while you wait to check-in you see a AAA Four Diamond plaque on the wall. “Okay,” you think to yourself, “things must be much better up in my room if this place has four diamonds. This is, after all, just the lobby.” Well, your thinking would be wrong.

And this got me to wondering about what AAA was thinking and what little it must take to get four diamonds these days. But then that got me thinking about our schools. When we say we have great (aka "four diamond") teachers, what does that mean? What are our proof points? How do we define great? More importantly, when we say we have great teachers, how do our prospective families define great and what expectations have we established for them? We better be on or get on the same hymn sheet as our prospective families, maybe even after getting them to realign their definition of great with ours.

After all, if you get to define great for them in a way that is uniquely your school, then you have set a near impossible standard for other schools they are considering to meet. Game over.

So it seems to me that if you want to be successful, you need to differentiate yourself as well as establish some high, seemingly four diamond-esque, standards you think are uniquely yours and can be claimed by no other. And then get families to buy into that. Did you get all that?

And, oh yeah, unlike the TABS hotel, you have to be able to deliver on it.


Personal Indulgence (since it is my blog!): two pieces of exciting news this week. First, congratulations to Joe Hanrahan for being named the next head at Marianapolis. I had the incredible pleasure of working with his wife and to know them and their lovely family. They will rock that school and it will be much better for their arrival. Good luck!

And congratulations to Lynne Hay, retiring after 25 years in the Admissions Office at the Episcopal Academy (PA). She is returning to the classroom and by doing so has robbed our profession of one of its most senior, thoughtful, ethical members. Lynne is the kind of colleague I wrote about on Thanksgiving. It’s our tremendous loss not to see her again at the likes of SSATB, TABS, Essex, etc.

Happy Thanksgiving

Happy (American) Thanksgiving to everyone.

This marks my 20th year working in admissions and as I think about all for which I have to be thankful, being able to do this work that influences if not changes the lives of children and shapes institutions in which I believe is really quite awesome, in the truest sense of the word. (Awesome: top of the list of abused and overused words such that their original meaning is now diminished if not lost! Unique is probably second.)

And this profession would not be such a rewarding pleasure without the incredible colleagues with which I share it. Some of my admissions colleagues have become some of my closest friends. I feel privileged to share their profession and their lives. They work tirelessly on behalf of what is best for students and schools and do so with honour, integrity and character. I have learned so much from so many who have insight, creativity, thoughtfulness, intelligence, and compassion.

I wish everyone a refreshing, renewing, relaxing and reflective Thanksgiving, and I thank everyone for the manifold ways in which you shape and better my life, professionally and personally.

Like Attracts Like

I’m in South Africa visiting one of my dearest friends. He is just one of the “good guys”. I’ve seen him leap from his airplane seat to take the arm of elderly passenger and help her navigate herself to the lavatory and I’ve seen him bound across the street to open a door for someone whose arms were full of packages, bags, and dry cleaning. He’s that person who maintains a meticulous list of everyone’s birthday and phones them with best wishes. His gmail and Skype contact lists are bigger than my inquiry pool! He befriends everyone he meets.

So it should come as no surprise that when I met some of his friends at a dinner tonight, they seemed likewise. Like attracts like, right? And this got me to thinking about the power of branding and how its power should be equally strong at attracting the right students and dissuading the “wrong” ones. If our messages are authentic and clear, then the right students will be engaged while the wrong ones will further their search elsewhere. And that’s okay. In the end, we want appropriate applicants, not all applicants, right?

(Or do we? On a related, interesting note, check out this New York Times article on the explosion of college applications sent to me by Kristin Dabney, whose daughters attend James River Day School in Virginia.)

I was recently looking at the new website for Shimer College, the Great Books college in Chicago and noted I could enjoy their viewbook online (someday a whole other blog post on whether or not sharing your viewbook online is a good idea—I’m not convinced). Upon first inspection, one thinks this book is the antithesis of what the marketing people have been telling us what to do with our print materials. There’s way too much text, not enough or big enough pictures, and too much reading to trudge through. Who is going to bother??

Students who are excited about going to a Great Books institution. That’s who. If you’re not interested in reading the viewbook for Shimer, than you’re surely not interested in the curriculum for Shimer, or any other Great Books college. I’m not sure if this was done on purpose or not, but posting their viewbook online may be the first step in Shimer’s inquiry qualification process.

If so, bravo Shimer!

Horn Talk

I write this from Lagos, Nigeria, where the traffic appears utterly insane, relegating rush hour in NYC or LA to the category of “civilized”. There really are no lanes, the number of cars that can fit alongside one another is defined solely by the trenches and drop-offs paralleling the road. Motorcycles zip in and among cars and taxis, and everybody seems to be driving without any acknowledgment that other cars, lots of other cars actually!, share the road with them.

But as you chew on the unavoidable exhaust and pay closer attention, you come to appreciate a semblance of organization that is executed by horns. People don’t lay on them as they do in North America. They’re not horns of anger or rage. Different numbers and durations of horn blasts seem to indicate different things and as cars move in and among each other in tight proximity (so close that anyone who can, folds in their side view mirrors) and without benefit of defined lanes, it seems to work. The horns actually tame the wild beast that is the traffic. A colleague on this trip, Harry Lynch, the headmaster at Newman School in Boston, has named this “Horn Talk”.

When you enter a different land (and I mean that literally or metaphorically when maybe a single-sex day school visits a co-ed feeder school), it helps to know the language. Actually, it serves you well to know the language. Visiting Nigeria, a former British colony, I had to be conversant about GCSE’s and A- and O-level examinations. If you visit a Montessori school it would be good to articulate the five categories of learning. And if you want to recruit from a Sacred Heart school, you’ll go a lot farther knowing about the “goals and criteria” that manifest their values and education. Honor and respect them by taking the time to speak their language first before you expect them to speak yours.

It’s easy to think that if “they want to come to my school, they need to speak my language” but if you’re in admissions, it’s more important you speak theirs first. If you’re successful, the result will be that they then want to speak yours. HONK!