Moving from Platitudes to a Promise
December 01, 2025
How community collaboration shaped a school district鈥檚 strategic roadmap to capture families鈥� aspirations
The crowded school cafeteria fell quiet as we shared a bold vision: Every student in Highline Public Schools would graduate from high school, not just with a diploma, but with a plan for the future they chose for themselves.
More than 100 family and community members had gathered there in the winter of 2013 to jointly create a new strategic plan for Highline, an urban-suburban district of 18,000 students south of Seattle, Wash. After a brief pause, a parent raised her hand to ask, 鈥淒o you really mean every student?鈥� Her question was laden with both skepticism and longing.
We realized the task ahead was bigger than charting a strategic roadmap for the school district. We needed to not only reframe the public narrative about our schools but also reflect the hopes and dreams our families had for their children. To do that, we needed to build a shared commitment in the belief that Highline students 鈥� predominantly students of color, many new to the U.S. 鈥� are as capable and deserving as children in any other community.
We approached strategic planning not as an organizational exercise, but as an intentional act of community building. It was about laying the groundwork for transformation across our entire system. Over months of meetings with staff, families, students and community partners, we collaboratively designed this new foundation for the district: one rooted in trust, aspiration and a relentless belief in every student鈥檚 potential. That foundation became the Highline Promise, a commitment that shaped not only our goals and strategy but our identity.
Built on a Promise
Before arriving in Highline as superintendent, one of us (Susan), in previous leadership roles, had often used the phrase 鈥渒now every student by name and need.鈥� Upon arrival in Highline, she found a district already leaning into an asset-based mindset, especially in its approach to historically underserved students.
After months of conversations, two ideas merged: knowing students not just by name and need, but by strength as well. The result was the original Highline Promise: 鈥淓very student in Highline Public Schools is known by name, strength and need, and graduates prepared for college, career and citizenship.鈥�
Highline was, and is, a learning organization, and over time we learned from our community 鈥� through formal channels such as surveys and less formal anecdotal data gathered from individual conversations 鈥� that while they embraced the spirit of the Promise, the words 鈥渃ollege, career and citizenship鈥� felt alienating to some. 鈥淐itizenship鈥� could feel exclusionary to undocumented students and families. 鈥淐ollege鈥� did not resonate with families whose vision of success was not tethered to higher education. And 鈥渃areer鈥� often implied a conventional, linear path that did not fit every student鈥檚 reality.
In response, we revised the language to reflect what students truly deserved: graduating prepared for the future they choose for themselves, whether college, workforce, military service, entrepreneurship or something not yet imagined. This change resulted in the Promise that endures in Highline today: 鈥淓very student is known by name, strength and need and graduates prepared for the future they choose.鈥� At the time, it became not just a statement of intent, but a mirror of our community鈥檚 values and the foundation and inspiration for our strategic planning process.
Grounded in Values
We officially launched our strategic planning process in 2013, determined to create something community-driven and enduring. We wanted this strategic plan to belong to the community, not just the district.
With support from a consultant, we developed an inclusive structure of planning teams:
Our core planning team, made up of school and district staff, families, community leaders and students, drafted the foundational goals of the plan. They met monthly to shepherd the plan through every stage of development.
Focus groups provided ongoing feedback from families as the goals were refined to reflect community priorities. Rather than simply taking initial feedback and then sharing a finalized plan, we shared iterations of the plan throughout the process.
An instructional focus team developed strategies to connect our vision directly to student outcomes. Each principal, along with a teacher from their school, met regularly to develop the instructional strategies that would turn the plan into practice.
We were intent on including all voices in this process. While we used standard methods of gathering input, such as online surveys for families and staff, we recognized some demographics are more likely to engage in face-to-face communication. Over nine months, we held more than 50 community sessions in English, Spanish, Vietnamese and Somali, the top languages of the more than 100 spoken in the district. We met people in schools, apartment complexes, churches and community centers.
Knowing that families who traditionally had not felt seen and heard by the district did not have a high level of trust in school personnel, we partnered with community-based organizations who had trusted relationships with families and community members. These trusted organizations invited participants, hosted the meetings, and gathered input in their native languages. This not only helped increase participation in the process, but it strengthened our relationships with these groups, which would continue far beyond a strategic plan.
Practical Measures
Most importantly, as we held these conversations we did not ask, 鈥淲hat do you want from the district?鈥� Instead, we asked, 鈥淲hat do you want for your children?鈥� That reframing changed everything. It shifted the conversation from transactional to aspirational, laying the groundwork for a plan built around what mattered most to our families, staff and community: the hopes, strengths and futures of every student in Highline.
By the end of the planning process, we had co-developed six strategic goals that operationalized the Highline Promise in practical, measurable ways:
Mastering core subjects by 3rd grade
Passing algebra by the end of 9th grade
Increasing high school graduation rates
Eliminating out-of-school suspensions
Graduating bilingual and biliterate
Becoming tech-savvy and tech-literate
Each goal served as a building block to create the future we envisioned. The goals did not live in isolation. They were embedded across departments, classrooms, and school communities. Teachers used them to frame lessons. Principals used them to lead staff meetings and family nights. Department leaders asked, 鈥淗ow does our work help fulfill the Promise?鈥�
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Over time, what began as a promise and strategic plan became a shared mindset. It moved from the district鈥檚 face to its core to, ultimately, its DNA. Initially, including our Promise at every meeting and in every communication felt a bit excessive, but we learned that over time, repetition resulted in recognition 鈥� and recognition became our new reality. The Promise became more than a motto. It became a lens for decision making. It gave staff, students and families a common language and shared expectations.
We knew it had taken root when families and staff began using it to hold us accountable. At one school board meeting, a teacher challenged us by quoting the Promise and questioning whether a recent decision aligned with our stated values. It was one of the clearest signs that our Promise was not just an aspirational statement, it was the purest expression of a culture built on shared values.
Shared Priorities
Reframing the narrative around public education requires more than a sophisticated plan and marketing campaign. It requires community-building, trust and time. We learned that the process of strategic planning and how you listen and engage with staff, students and community are more important than the plan itself.
Asking the right questions is also key, including these:
Are families and community members truly shaping the process from the outset?
Does the plan go beyond goal setting to inspiring collective action?
Can every staff member, student and family see themselves in the vision?
Is it about building culture rather than producing a document?
At the end of the day, every parent and family member wants and deserves to see their child represented in the priorities of their school district. The public will not believe in public education unless they feel part of it. When communities are invited to co-create a values-driven plan 鈥� and see that plan lived out every day in classrooms, school board meetings and bus stops 鈥� the narrative begins to shift.
This is what happened in Highline. The strategic plan we created together did not just guide our work, it changed how people saw their schools, their students and their district. It gave parents and families language to advocate for their children. It gave staff clarity about their purpose. And most importantly, it reminded all students they are known, they are valued and their future is truly their own.
Catherine Carbone Rogers is executive director of Washington School Public Relations Association and owner of Carbone Communications in Seattle, Wash. Susan Enfield is executive director of the Center for Educational Leadership at the University of Washington in Seattle, Wash. They earlier worked, respectively, as Highline鈥檚 chief communications officer and superintendent.
By Rafael Urrea
As a student in Highline Public Schools from 3rd grade to my senior year during the pandemic, I witnessed and experienced the evolution of the Highline Public Schools鈥� strategic plan and promise.
Growing up in a lower-income, underrepre颅sented community, like many students in Highline, I was not really able as a 9-year-old to fully grasp the school district鈥檚 stated promise to know us all by name, strength and need. But reflecting on my journey now as a 23-year-old, I realize I was part of a community, not just a a school district.
What I mean by this is that our schools were not segregated so that an 鈥淎 school鈥� had 鈥淎 students鈥� with no 鈥淏 students鈥� able to attend. Highline always has been a melting pot. When a student was exceeding expectations and putting Highline on the map, they had all of Highline 鈥� staff, students and families 鈥� cheering them on.
Looking back, I never understood why our teachers urged us to invite our parents to Back to School night and to bring our siblings to see our classroom projects. Now I realize it was to foster a shared understanding of the bold goals Highline set for every student.
I walked the hallways of the Highline Public Schools for almost a decade, and every teacher I had knew my first and last name, they knew my hobbies and interests, they joked with me and made me laugh. They genuinely cared.
Because of them, and of course my family, I am living my dream of being an airline pilot. I remain in contact with several teachers, even one dating back to when I was in 4th grade. Hearing I have made them proud is an achievement for me, and I am positive they would say the same.
Rafael Urrea, a graduate of Highline鈥檚 Raisbeck Aviation High School, is a pilot with Horizon Air in Spokane, Wash.
In the early years of our strategic plan implementation in Washington鈥檚 Highline Public Schools, some stakeholders asked why Highline did not have a separate equity plan. Our answer was simple: Our strategic plan is our equity plan.
The Highline Promise 鈥� that all students will be known by name, strength and need and graduate prepared for the future they choose 鈥� is, at its core, a commitment to educational equity. It means meeting all students where they are, honoring their unique identity and supporting them toward success on their own terms.
Some critics argued that our language was too soft, too inclusive and not direct enough in naming systemic racism or confronting bias. But we believed that the Promise鈥檚 strength came from its ability to call people in, not call them out. In an era marked by polarization, we chose language that reflected shared values. It did not let us off the hook. It held us to a higher standard.
Because the Highline Promise had been co-authored by the community, it also gave us the moral authority and credibility to act boldly while keeping our community alongside us.
Bridge-Building Words
We are in a chapter of our nation鈥檚 history where words are increasingly weaponized. Terms such as 鈥渆quity鈥� and 鈥渋nclusion,鈥� once seen as universally positive, now spark polarized debates. It is tempting, even exhilarating, to draft school district goals in bold, uncompromising terms. But words can alienate as much as they can inspire.
Using language that leans into shared values is not a weakness. It is a radical act of bridge-building. Asking parents what they want for their children opens the door to connection. It invites people in. While we may disagree on how to get there, starting from a place of shared hope and humanity offers a powerful foundation for lasting change.
In Highline, that foundation was a Promise. And that Promise, born from strategic planning and shaped by community voice, became the story we lived 鈥� not just the one we told.
鈥斺�� Catherine Carbone Rogers and Susan Enfield
By Larry L. Nyland
Last spring, several superintendents in my state quietly 鈥� or not so quietly 鈥� had their contracts bought out by their school boards. Their school districts said it was time to 鈥済o in a new direction鈥� 鈥� a euphemistic phrase today often signaling a retreat from equity-focused leadership. Superintendents have been pushed out not for their poor performance but for political convenience.
Public education is at a pivotal moment. Across the country, debates over diversity, equity and inclusion have placed school system leaders in the midst of a political crossfire, caught between shifting legislation, federal policy changes and divided communities. And yet, one thing remains true: Every student deserves the opportunity to succeed, regardless of the political climate.
At our monthly superintendent convenings in Washington state, we devoted two sessions to the theme 鈥淣avigating on Thin Ice.鈥� What emerged was a roadmap grounded in values, clear thinking and an unwavering commitment to students.
Reframing Conversations
Language matters. While terms such as DEI have become lightning rods, the mission behind them 鈥� ensuring that all students feel welcomed, supported and academically challenged 鈥� remains essential. Superintendents aren鈥檛 retreating from this work. They are reframing it.
School districts are shifting from acronyms to aspirations:
From DEI to student success and belonging;
From equity to opportunity and access; and
From social justice to The American Dream.
When leaders discuss belonging, opportunity and the American dream, they tap into shared values that transcend politics.
Reframing in Action
School systems across Washington state are working at reframing how they portray their important work.
Lake Washington School District: From Policy to Shared Purpose
The district leadership in Lake Washington understood that a systemwide equity policy would face skepticism if it only came from them. So they redesigned the process. It took two years of public engagement, intentionally including voices of those historically excluded.
The result was not just a new school district policy but a community-owned framework for student success. 鈥淲e鈥檙e thinking more broadly and boldly about the role of public education in community life,鈥� superintendent Jon Holmen says.
By framing equity as a community value rather than a district initiative, Lake Washington is developing lasting ownership.
Walla Walla School District: From Politics to Belonging
Walla Walla reframed equity around the idea of belonging. Their 鈥淲e All Belong Here鈥� campaign started with student stories 鈥� experiences about how it feels to be seen, supported or invisible at school. Those stories shifted the focus from ideological arguments to a shared concern for students.
Practical steps by the district followed: backpacks were provided for every child, after-school programs opened to every student and more student input in decisions. Belonging turned equity from a controversial issue into something everyone understands.
Northshore School District: From Rhetoric to Daily Practice
At Northshore, equity is a core part of every颅day work. The district aims for universal student success through leading indicators such as 3rd-grade reading ability. Principal teams visit each other鈥檚 schools, discuss classroom challenges and share what they鈥檝e seen and learned. This approach reframes the focus on collaboration in support of student learning for every student.
A Call to Purpose
Reframing isn鈥檛 about avoiding equity 鈥� it鈥檚 about making the pursuit real, relatable and lasting. Whether through shared purpose in Lake Washington, belonging in Walla Walla or daily practice in Northshore, school districts are finding ways to maintain this work even during divisive times.
Alan Spicciati, superintendent in Auburn, Wash., says his district focuses on common community values: student-centered, learning-focused and community-owned. Auburn has shifted from talk to practice.
Instead of focusing on adult conversations, leadership seeks visible evidence in classrooms: Are teachers greeting students by name? Is student work celebrated on the walls? Are all students, especially those in historically underserved groups, being challenged with rigorous, high-quality instruction?
As Spicciati says: 鈥淲e鈥檙e keeping equity grounded in relationships, rigor and relevance 鈥� not rhetoric.鈥�
The stakes are high. According to the Education Recovery Scorecard, only 6 percent of school districts nationwide have fully recovered in both math and reading performance compared to 2019 performance levels. Recovery is slower in high-poverty areas, and deeply tied to leadership, attendance and targeted supports.
Amid these challenges, reframing helps leaders keep communities focused on what matters most: ensuring that every student is known, supported and prepared for the future. In an era of division, public education remains one of our most unifying institutions. But its promise depends on courageous leaders who are willing to reframe, not retreat.
Larry Nyland is a retired superintendent in Seattle, Wash.
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