Culture is Everything: thoughts on schools and websites

Apparently a court case is taking place at the moment on the question of independent schools. More on that, perhaps, another time. In a dreamy moment of holiday-time distraction, I found myself reflecting today on the UK independent schools I’ve known well (6 as an employee, 3 as a pupil). Quite different places entirely, in my experience of them, even as they’re lumped together in the media under the simple umbrella term ‘private schools’.

There are, of course, independent schools and independent schools: some highly academic, some less so, some day, some boarding, some urban, some rural, some big, some small, some famous, some not-so-much.

But what really matters most, I think, when forming an assessment of a given school is something very simple: is it a happy place to be? Do human beings flourish within its walls? Or, at least, do the vast majority flourish (since, I guess, it would be unrealistic to imagine every single person could do so at a given point in time)?Everything else flows from that point of principle. Pupils thrive when they’re happy, genuinely so, and able to be themselves, find challenge, find recognition. And, as a wise colleague once commented to me: ‘everything in a school hinges on positive culture. Everything’.

This is where school websites can make things difficult. Every school website puts its own best foot forward. Glossy photos, lovely grounds, impressive-sounding achievements. But what school league table measures ‘culture’? What objective measure could there be of something so inherently nebulous? And why trust any website with the gall to champion anything so intangible? Positive culture, it is fair to say, must simply be lived out – and if it translates onto a website, then so be it.

But clues as to the presence of a really positive school culture may just be traceable, I believe, for those with eyes keen enough to do so. That, at least, is my argument here. So then: how might one identify a flourishing school culture, using a website alone?

Well, for one: does the website give a clear sense of a flourishing human community? All school websites single out exceptional achievements and events, as well as noteworthy occasions in the school calendar. But the best websites – and the best schools – do more. They give a sense of whole communities being enriched. Pupils from across different year groups joining together in shared activities and initiatives; staff linking up with students to join together in positive endeavours; elements of teamwork, creativity and fun being in clear evidence. And, above all, a sense that everyone is in some way involved: not just a small group, but a whole community. Culture, after all, is born of community.

Another (perhaps more-self centred) clue: does the website convey key information about subject teachers: who they are, what they’re about? Many school websites do little to nothing here. If the website is the public face of a school, why should it be interested in giving you only a small list of names, or – in some cases – the name of the headteacher, alone? Senior leaders spend relatively little time teaching and – although they are unquestionably important figures – most contact time for pupils will happen with subject teachers. If a school website doesn’t take the trouble to disclose the identities of its staff, it’s in my view a strange omission. The best websites give a sense of who the staff throughout the school are, and of what they’re contributing to the life of the place.

A further point. Does the website give a flavour of how pupils spend their time each day and week? Of what sort of life a pupil will lead in the school? Of how the school day is organised? Of how much time will be spent in lessons? Of what else will form part of the daily experience? Taking the trouble to spell this all out shows that careful thought has gone into what’s being delivered, and how, and that clarity about how things work, and clarity of communication with the world at large, counts. Those are good indicators of a positive culture.

Point number 4. Does the website pay more than mere lip-service to the idea that the school wants pupils to develop in the round, not just in terms of their capacity to pass public exams? What extra-curricular offerings are there? What sorts of choices do pupils have? How are they encouraged/celebrated in their non-academic pursuits? And what trouble is the school taking to ensure that each individual is known, nurtured and developed into a rounded human being? Good websites (and good schools) manage to convey answers to these questions, not simply a platitude or two about ‘wide-ranging extra-curriculars’.

A fifth point – and it seems strange to write it, but this feels an acutely important one. How is the school striving to develop individuals who think freely and openly? Does a sense come through on the website that individuality, and uniqueness of thought and perspective, and, for that matter, creativity, really matter? Schools have to do with human beings. They should therefore aim to excel in finding, nurturing and celebrating what makes human beings human – and, for that matter, humane. If, then, a school website resembles that of a bluechip corporation (on one hand), or that of an organisation for chippy activism (on the other), or some odd combination of both, then it’s perhaps questionable whether humanity, individuality, and liberality hold pride of place within that school’s walls. Doubtless there is a case for seeming businesslike, and a case for seeming alert to injustice. But if these things turn into a dominating ethos, which takes pride of place above (or to the exclusion of) academic values, the cart is preceding the horse.

And, perhaps more subtly, if the only place for the ‘Arts’ on a school website is as a sort of adornment, or occasional activity, then this too might provoke a sense of caution. The one time I went to see the Head to air a slightly critical thought in one of my previous jobs (at an excellent school) was to share the view that all pupils passing through the school ought to gain some experience of what it feels like to act on stage, at some point in their school career. It saddened me that that wasn’t (at that point) happening for a fair number. A school which recognises the vitality of the Arts for human flourishing is likely to be a flourishing place more generally, I think.

So, that’s it in this instalment of the dreamy ramblings of a career educator. I wonder what others will make of the above. Doubtless it betrays not a few prejudices. I am glad to report, though, that I write as a member of staff in a school which ticks all of the above boxes.