What 50+ International School Visits Have Taught Me About School Improvement
Over the past eight years, I’ve had the opportunity to walk through the doors of more than 50 international schools across nearly 20 countries and five continents. ’ve spoken with boards and governing bodies, school leaders, teachers, students, and parents. I’ve observed classrooms, reviewed strategic plans, discussed budgets, listened to leadership teams wrestle with difficult decisions, and seen schools at very different points in their development.
No two schools have been the same.
Their missions are different. Their communities are different. Their resources are different. Their ideas of how to drive change are different. Their cultures, histories, and challenges are different.
And yet, over time, I’ve noticed some remarkably consistent patterns.
The schools that seem best positioned to improve aren’t necessarily the schools with the most resources, the most impressive facilities, or the most sophisticated documentation. They tend to be schools where people have clarity about where they’re going, the capacity to get there, and the willingness to learn along the way.
Here are a few things my experiences visiting international schools have taught me about school improvement.
1. Schools rarely have a shortage of ideas. They have a shortage of focus.
Walk into almost any school and you’ll find plenty of good ideas. There may be initiatives around student-centered learning, assessment, technology, inclusion, wellbeing, curriculum development, professional learning, artificial intelligence, strategic planning, and a dozen other priorities.
The problem isn’t usually generating another idea. The problem is deciding which ideas matter most right now.
School improvement requires choices. Every new priority requires time, attention, energy, and resources. When everything is a priority, nothing really is. The strongest schools I’ve encountered have been able to answer a deceptively simple question:
What is the most important thing we need to get better at right now?
That doesn’t mean ignoring everything else. It means having the discipline to concentrate effort where it can make the greatest difference.
2. A strategic plan is only useful if it changes what people do.
I’ve seen beautifully written strategic plans that contain thoughtful goals, attractive graphics, carefully constructed objectives, and impressive language. I’ve also seen those plans sitting on shelves while the school goes about its daily work.
A strategic plan should do more than describe what a school hopes to accomplish. It should help people make decisions.
When a new opportunity comes along, does the strategic plan help determine whether the school should pursue it?
When resources are limited, does it help determine where they should be invested?
When leaders are deciding what professional learning teachers need, does it provide direction?
When the board is discussing the future of the school, does it provide a common framework for the conversation?
If the answer to these questions is no, the school may have a strategic plan, but it doesn’t necessarily have a strategy.
3. School improvement is fundamentally about people.
This may seem obvious, but it is easy to forget. Schools improve when teachers change practice, when leaders change behaviors, when boards improve their governance, when teams collaborate more effectively, and when students become more active participants in their learning.
A document doesn’t improve a school.
A new initiative doesn’t improve a school.
An accreditation report doesn’t improve a school.
People do.
This is why I have become increasingly interested in the gap between what schools say they value and what people actually experience.
A school might say it values collaboration, but teachers may rarely have meaningful opportunities to collaborate.
A school might say it values student agency, while most classroom decisions remain firmly in the hands of teachers.
A school might say professional learning is important, while professional development consists primarily of occasional workshops.
The question isn’t simply, What does your school believe?
The more important question is: What does that belief look like in practice?
4. Governance matters more than many schools realize.
I’ve spent a great deal of time working with governing bodies and school leadership teams, and I’ve seen how powerful good governance can be. I’ve also seen how quickly unclear governance can create problems.
Boards and school leaders have different responsibilities. When those responsibilities become blurred, everyone can become frustrated. Boards may become too involved in operational decisions. School leaders may feel that they don’t have the authority to lead. Important strategic conversations can get lost in day-to-day concerns.
Strong governance doesn’t mean boards are less engaged.
It means they are engaged in the right things.
The healthiest relationships I’ve seen between boards and school leaders are characterized by clarity, trust, communication, and a shared understanding of who is responsible for what.
5. Accreditation is most valuable when it helps a school understand itself.
After leading more than 50 accreditation visits, I’ve developed a strong belief in how powerful the process can be. Schools often fall into one of two categories during accreditation visits. Those that are only participating to get the accreditation stamp for their website, and those that genuinely engaged to improve student learning.
The process should be about more than demonstrating that a school meets standards. Standards can provide a useful framework for asking difficult questions.
Are our practices aligned with our mission?
Do our students actually experience the kind of learning we say we value?
Are our systems sustainable?
Does our governance structure support effective leadership?
Are we developing the capacity we will need five years from now?
Those questions can lead to meaningful improvement. But only if schools are willing to use the accreditation process for reflection rather than simply compliance.
The best accreditation experiences I’ve witnessed haven’t been about producing the perfect report. They’ve been about schools discovering something important about themselves.
6. Context matters.
One of the greatest dangers in international education is assuming that because something worked somewhere else, it will work here. International schools operate in incredibly diverse contexts.
A strategy that makes sense for a large school in one country may be completely inappropriate for a small school somewhere else.
A governance model that works beautifully in one community may create problems in another.
A professional learning approach that succeeds in a mature organization may overwhelm a school experiencing significant staff turnover.
Good school improvement isn’t about importing someone else’s solution. It’s about asking: What makes sense for this school, with these people, in this context, at this moment?
7. Small schools shouldn’t try to become large schools.
I’ve developed a particular appreciation for small and growing international schools. They often face enormous challenges with limited resources and small leadership teams. One person may simultaneously be a teacher, coordinator, curriculum leader, owner, admissions department, and head of school. This can create real organizational challenges.
But small schools also have something larger organizations often struggle to create: proximity. People know each other. Relationships can be strong. Decisions can happen quickly. Change can sometimes happen without layers of bureaucracy. The goal shouldn’t be to make a small school operate like a large one. The goal should be to help small schools build the systems they need without losing the qualities that make them special.
8. Professional development only matters if it reaches the classroom.
I’ve been involved in professional learning from several different perspectives, as a teacher, school leader, researcher, and consultant. One lesson has stayed with me:
A great workshop doesn’t necessarily produce great professional learning.
The real question is what happens afterward.
Did teachers have an opportunity to practice?
Did they have time to collaborate?
Did leaders follow up?
Did the school provide feedback?
Did teachers understand why the change mattered?
Did anything actually look different in classrooms six months later?
Professional learning should ultimately be connected to the experiences students have every day. Otherwise, we risk confusing activity with improvement.
9. Sometimes the problem isn’t the problem.
This may be one of the most important lessons I’ve learned.
A school might say it has a professional development problem when the real issue is lack of clarity.
It might say it has a communication problem when the real issue is lack of trust.
It might say it needs a new strategic plan when the real problem is that the previous one was never implemented.
It might say teachers need training when what they actually need is time, resources, coaching, or a clearer expectation.
Before deciding what to do, schools need to spend time understanding what is actually happening. Good school improvement starts with good questions.
10. The best schools I’ve encountered are learning organizations.
The strongest schools aren’t the ones that have everything figured out. They’re the ones that are willing to ask whether what they’re doing is working.
They look at evidence.
They listen to teachers.
They listen to students.
They reflect on their practices.
They acknowledge when something isn’t working. And they are willing to change.
That doesn’t mean constant change. In fact, I think effective schools are often quite deliberate about what they choose not to change. But they create a culture where reflection isn’t threatening and improvement isn’t something that happens only when an accreditation visit is approaching. It becomes part of how the school operates.
What I’ve come to believe
After visiting so many schools, I’ve become less interested in finding the perfect model for school improvement. I’m much more interested in helping schools understand their own challenges and develop the capacity to address them.
Every school has strengths.
Every school has challenges.
And every school has a context that matters.
The role of a good school improvement partner isn’t to arrive with a predetermined solution. It’s to listen carefully, ask useful questions, bring perspective, help people see possibilities they may not have considered, and then work alongside them to turn those possibilities into action.
That’s ultimately why I created Global School Catalyst.
I believe schools don’t need more consultants telling them what they should do.
They need thoughtful partners who can help them figure out what they need to do and how to make it happen. And after more than 50 school visits, I still believe the most interesting part of this work is walking through the doors of a school and asking one simple question:
How can we make this school a better place for students to learn and for teachers and leaders to thrive?