Every time you interact with a customer, you’re engaging in marketing. – Seth Godin
If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s receiving or giving lousy customer service. We don’t put up with it at the Olive Garden or the Starbucks, and we sure as heck shouldn’t expect our customers to put up with it from us.
Schools walk a precarious line with parents and the community. Generally, they like us OK. But then one little thing goes wrong and that’s it. They tell a friend or two how crummy our school is and that friend also tells a friend or two. Pretty soon everyone’s working on the assumption that your school is an unfriendly place because someone didn’t get the satisfaction they wanted.
I’m not talking about overtly bad customer service like being rude or snippy with someone, although that shouldn’t be acceptable, either. But sometimes the little things we do (or don’t do) and the hidden messages our offices and classrooms send speak louder than words. In one of my all-time favorite posts by Scott McLeod, he points out the subtle (and not-so-subtle) messages we send out to our teachers, parents, students, and community every day.
Consider the mother of a teenager in need of some last-minute advice from the student’s counselor. She walks into the counseling office and the secretary’s desk proudly displays that oh-so-witty sign that says, “Failure to plan on your part does not constitute and emergency on mine.”
Or consider the dad who comes in to review his student’s attendance. He is told by the first person he sees, “That’s not my responsibility. You need to see the Attendance Person.” So he dutifully goes to the attendance office only to find that the Attendance Person is at lunch. Approaching the nearest counselor he is told, “Your son is not in my part of the alphabet. You need to see Mr. Y and he’s booked all afternoon.” Down but not out, the father walks to the administrative offices and is told that his son is a senior and therefore he needs to see Mrs. Z who happens to be out of the building at that moment.
Now consider that pulling up Little Johnny’s attendance would have been about three mouse clicks for that first person. Why do we do this to people? Are we so afraid of stepping on someone else’s turf? Or is that we resent having to do “someone else’s job?”
Taking care of our parents and community is all of our jobs. As school leaders, we contribute significantly to the culture of the building. When people see us stop and pick up a piece of trash on the floor, it sends the message that we’re not too important to do our part to keep the building clean. When others see us stop to help a lost or confused parent in the building, they get the idea that we all need to take responsibility for taking care of the people visiting our school.
Empower the people in your building to do what is required (with consideration for what’s ethical and appropriate) to help a parent. Doing so will stop the game of parent “hot potato” that we play by bouncing these people from one person to the next. And even if they’re not happy with the result of the conversation (Johnny has missed how many math classes?!?), the parents will leave with at least a little bit of dignity as well as some satisfaction that someone took the time to listen and help.
