When schools host family nights, fundraisers, or cultural celebrations, there’s usually a good crowd. Those attendance numbers may look good on paper, but they aren’t always a reliable measure of engagement.
The real question school leaders should ask is, “Do families walk away from these events feeling included, affirmed, and empowered to help their children succeed?” Unfortunately, many times the answer is no.
Families aren’t disengaged; they’re navigating real barriers. They still find ways to support their children because learning matters to them. Too often, educator’s biased assumptions cause them to misread limited attendance as limited commitment.
In this biweekly column, principals and other authorities on school leadership—including researchers, education professors, district administrators, and assistant principals—offer timely and timeless advice for their peers.
Engagement should be about connection and collaboration, not just compliance or turnout. This is the difference between the traditional “bake sale” mindset, in which schools celebrate turnout, and a deeper partnership mindset, in which families help shape the learning culture.
True partnership begins when schools recognize the cultural knowledge, skills, and insight families already bring to their children’s learning.
Here are several practical strategies to move from attendance to partnership that I learned during my time as a principal:
1. Visit homes or community spaces to listen and learn from families about their hopes, values, and experiences.
In my former schools, we implemented a partner-visits program. Each teacher met with every family at least twice a year, either in the family’s homes or in a nearby community space within their neighborhood. These visits built trust, strengthened communication, and helped teachers understand students’ backgrounds and strengths beyond the classroom.
2. Send messages, flyers, and updates in families’ preferred languages.
We sent schoolwide communication in families’ preferred languages whenever possible. When translation wasn’t available, we used the language line so families could receive accurate information and engage fully with the school.
Communicating in a family’s home language shows respect and care. This is even easier today, when platforms such as TalkingPoints and ParentSquare offer automatic translation.
3. Use positive language and recognition not only for students but for parents as partners.
I made it a priority to acknowledge the ways families already support their children at home.
For example, instead of saying “Thank you for coming,” we can say “We appreciate your insight as your child’s first teacher.” That simple shift changes the whole tone of the relationship. Using affirming language for both students and parents helps build trust and a sense of shared purpose.
Whether through quick notes, in person, or phone calls, these affirmations help families feel seen, valued, and included as true partners in their child’s learning.
4. Share information in more than one format.
At my former school, we never relied on a single platform to communicate with families. We sent home printed flyers, used robocalls, posted updates around the school, and shared messages through digital platforms. This ensured that families without consistent phone access or Wi-Fi still received the information they needed.
5. Invite families to co-lead school initiatives and serve on decisionmaking committees.
I worked to move beyond “volunteer” roles to ensure that our parent groups reflected the diversity of our community.
Traditionally, families who are more familiar with the school culture, speak English, or have flexible work schedules tend to be the ones who are most involved.
Meanwhile, working-class parents, multilingual families, or families of color may not attend school events because of barriers like inconsistent work hours, lack of transportation, limited child care, or school communications that don’t reflect their language or cultural background. When they do show up, they’re often met with unclear directions, unwelcoming signage, and staff who either do not look like them or don’t make an effort to connect.
This sends the message that their presence is incidental, not valued.
To correct this imbalance, I proactively held meetings where families, staff, and other stakeholders review academic, attendance, and discipline data together and collaborate on next steps. This shared decisionmaking helped families feel like partners, not spectators.
6. Design tasks that are simple, meaningful, and affirm families’ capacity to support learning.
I encouraged teachers to assign homework that supported quick, low-stress interactions at home, tasks that families could support without needed specialized knowledge. Whether it was learning math facts, reading a book that students were provided from the school’s library, or observing something in the environment, the goal was to help families feel confident and included in the learning process, not overwhelmed or shut out.
7. Reach out early, not just when there’s a problem.
During my time as a school leader, I set the expectation that teachers communicate with families before concerns escalated.
Teachers and administrators often wait to contact families until a problem has escalated, whether it is repeated behavior issues or a student already failing academically. These delays disproportionately impact families of color, multilingual families, and working-class families, who are too often contacted only when something is wrong. When educators have biased assumptions that these families won’t respond or won’t follow through, they wait too long to communicate until the opportunity for early support has already passed.
Some students even learn to take advantage of this communication gap, using the lack of connection between home and school to avoid accountability. This cycle creates frustration for teachers, leaves families feeling blindsided and powerless, and ultimately harms students.
In my school, we emphasized early check-ins, positive updates, and quick notes about progress, not just messages tied to behavior or academic struggles. To keep this equitable, teachers maintained communication logs that I could review to ensure every child received at least one positive family contact each month. A proactive system builds trust and helps families stay connected long before challenges surface.
These steps remind everyone that families are not guests in the school; they are co-educators.
Attendance, fundraisers, and events matter, but they’re not enough. True engagement happens when schools look inward, challenge bias, and use language that brings stakeholders together. School leaders have the power to choose whether their words will build walls or build bridges.
When schools communicate with respect and challenge deficit thinking, families become collaborators in learning, not spectators invited only when convenient.
Families don’t need to be convinced that education matters. They’ve already built their lives around their children’s success. What they need are schools that use affirming, culturally responsive communication to build genuine partnerships where families are valued as co-educators.