School slogans should mean something

If your school vision statement sounds like an advertising tagline, bin it. You needn’t be Don Draper to come up with some simple words for kids to live by

Someone, somewhere, at some time, decided that schools needed a vision. A simple and yet powerful statement of intent that, in one mouthful, told the world what their school was about. It would need to be aspirational. Punchy. Most of all, it should have the potential to inspire.

And so, the first vision statement was born, and presumably it worked, because now they’re everywhere. Walk through a school entrance, click on a website, in some cases, just drive past the school gates, and you will see, emblazoned across the school logo, their vision.

They are, in fact, so popular, that sitting back and taking a wry pop at them is like shooting fish in a barrel. This is especially true, when, in trying to write the darn thing, the collective body responsible misinterpret the brief and end up trying to write something that sounds more like a tagline for a new brand of fizzy pop than a set of principles for children.

Snappy phrases that repeat words in a different order seem to be pretty popular, like: ‘Learning to live, living to learn’. I can’t help of thinking of all the ones that people must have tried but just couldn’t get to work: ‘Loving to learn, learning to love’ – hmm, maybe. ‘Dream your success, succeed your dreams’ – definitely not. ‘Strive to strengthen, strengthen to strive’ – I’m not sure that even makes sense.

Sometimes, inspiration is taken from popular culture: ‘Reach for the stars!’, ‘To infinity and beyond!’. You have to wonder if this could be taken a little too far. I mean, what’s next: ‘What we do in life, echoes in eternity’? ‘Life is like a box of chocolates’? ‘Do you feel lucky, punk?’

Occasionally, you wonder if during the brainstorming the vision’s sentiment got lost in translation. I heard of one that was: ‘Standing on tippy-toes’. I sort of see what they mean, but it seems to be one blue-sky thinking power session away from ‘Head in the clouds’.

But who are we to criticise any vision statement? After all, it’s not the actual wording that matters. What matters is whether it resonates around the school. Can you see it in action in the classrooms, corridors and playgrounds? Is it embedded within the culture of the school? Does it provide a hook on which to hang your conversations with children to help them see their future potential in their work?

This is where vision statements become unstuck. The obsession to get them snappy and shiny with double meanings and clever wordplay has meant that they have become victims of style over substance. Yes, they look great on an assembly slide but what does it actually mean, and how is it bespoke to your community?

When I became head at my current school, the vision statement was, in fact, a poem. It rhymed, I’ll give it that, but I challenged it by saying that I didn’t see it anywhere in the school apart from stuck up on the walls. The children could recite it, but they couldn’t relate it to anything they did here. It added no value and it certainly didn’t encourage children or adults to aspire to anything much.

Needless to say, I set about creating a ‘new vision’ for the school. I’m not going to be stupid enough to tell you what it is, because I’m certain you could mock it to your heart’s content, and moreover, it doesn’t really matter what it says. What matters, is that it provides the backbone that supports everything we do at school. It’s probably not that much different in sentiment to yours, but it’s definitely ours. We created it. It works for us. It’s real and doesn’t need to be forced in order to have its point and purpose made clear.

I will come out and say that it is not a declaration of infinite hope, or a promise that every child will succeed beyond her wildest dreams. It’s not even a neat single line of inspiring wisdom, and it certainly doesn’t rhyme. What it is, though, is a simple set of values, which allows everyone to talk in a common language, as they strive to do their best, and recognise, their strengths and potential.

As we like to say in my school: Strive to strengthen. Strengthen to strive. (Bugger!)

About the author

The Primary Head is the moniker of a headteacher currently working in a UK primary school. Follow him on Twitter: @theprimaryhead