A couple of nights ago we had the “pleasure” of attending an open house at our daughter’s school. We were excited, to some degree. Honestly, one can only get so excited about rushing frantically from work, cramming a snack in your kid to prevent her from completely going ballistic from hunger and speeding to the school to park several blocks away with the goal of joining hundreds of other hurried parents in an overcrowed gym. Oh, but it gets better.
First, I must tell you that this was more than an open house; this was a celebration of the opening of a new school. They’d finally moved from the mold-infested, 50-year-old, California-style school with outside classroom entrances (yes, we live in the Pacific Northwest where it ocassionally, or some would say “regularly” rains) to a beautiful new school. This night was a big darn deal for those that put their heart and soul into bringing this new school to fruition. And, it was an exciting night for all of us parents anxious to get a full tour of the new digs.
We arrive at the gym and the program had already begun. Big surpise! Not exactly easy to drive 30 minutes from work, pick up the kid from daycare, stop by the house to let the dog out and grab the unhealthy snack, experience one major meltdown because of the need for the snack and then have to hoof it a mile to get to the gym. I digress, sorry.
The principal was already speaking, thanking the appropriate people, giving accolades where they were due, etc. And, before I go any further I must say that I’m very pleased with the school, the principal, the teachers, and all involved, so this really isn’t criticism against school administration in any way, it’s more a criticism of the fact that time and again they fail to “know their audience in situations directly involving parents.” Sorry, but being in PR/Public Affairs that’s my thing. It’s make or break. You have to know who you’re speaking to and all that goes with it.
So, here’s my advice to all that spoke that night – principal, school board members, PTSA president, architects, planners from times gone by, etc, etc., – you were talking to a gym full of people who were mostly tired and hungry, and were accompanied by their children who were as equally hungry and handle it much worse than said parents. And, while we know this night was ultimately about you patting each other on the back, we really just wanted to see the school.
My good friend Merriam-Webster defines open house as “ready and usually informal hospitality or entertainment for all comers.” Frankly, I’m not so sure than an hour’s worth of talking heads can be considered informal hospitality or entertainment. Granted, the fact that there was free food at the ended served as a vital carrot, but having to listen to speech after speech before we were supposedly released to receive the carrot by standing in the mile-long food line fell well short of sufficient. Would we ever actually see the school?
As it turned out, there are advantages to being late. We had no seats. We were standing in the back of the gym. And, we were actually joined by parents we know so we could commiserate about the situation. Honestly, we weren’t being rude. The sound system didn’t really make it back to us, so we could only hear about one of every three speakers. And, it happened to be an unseasonably warm night so our kids exited out the backdoors into the play area and eventually into the food line before it stretched around the school.
Mr. T stayed inside the entire time. I know he wasn’t riveted by the speakers but I guess he thought we didn’t both need to be outside monitoring our daughter. Once the speakers commenced, out he came, proclaiming that the “we are so pleased with ourselves” program was all over.
Sorry, I again sound non-appreciative, but this night really needed to be about the kids and parents. I would have much rather had the opportunity to go from area to area talking with those intimately involved in this project and thank them personally. The drone of speeches, all really saying the same thing, only serves those giving them.
We finally get to explore the school, spending most of the time in our daughter’s classroom, meeting her teacher and learning all about what happens during her day. From there, we toured the library, music room, courtyard, office and numerous rooms along the way.
It’s a lovely school and it’s great for the community to have this beautiful new school. But, for some reason educators miss the mark time and again on events like this, and I really think they should know better. They work so hard to meet their students where they are at and really know each and every student. But when it comes to events involving adults, they totally miss the mark, time and time again.
I would ask them to ask themselves. Do you want to sit or stand for more than an hour listening to adults drone on about the process, people they don’t know, things that matter to them but don’t matter to those of us not intricately involved in the process? Or, would you rather get treated to a couple of cookies, some great conversations with staff and an amazing tour of a beautiful new school. My guess, is they would pick the latter. Let’s hope that’s the case in the future.
