A service designer, a behavioural economist and a mediator walk into Parents’ Evening…
What would Parents' Evening look like if we designed for the edges?
“We always make a point of calling parents who didn’t attend”
The letter goes home in the school bag: parents’ evening is next week; they’re being invited in to discuss their child’s progress.
For some parents, this is an opportunity to hear about their child’s successes, to strengthen relationships with teachers, and to affirm their own role in their child’s education. Many—millions of people every single year in fact—will attend without hesitation.
But, for others, the invitation sparks something very different. Anxiety. Resignation. Even dread. Take the parent who recently received yet another curt phone call about their child’s behaviour; a ‘conversation’ where they felt spoken at—told, even—not spoken with. Or the parent who remembers their own time at school as a place of embarrassment and failure. Or the single parent who has to juggle childcare, shift work, and exhaustion, all for the privilege of an abrupt seven-minute conversation that, in their experience, rarely confers big moments of elevation or insight.
They weigh up the effort against the expected outcome.
They decide not to go.
A school leader, on hearing that these parents didn’t attend, “always makes a point of calling them afterwards.” The follow-up demonstrates perseverance and care. But—and this is the uncomfortable bit—it’s also an admission of failure. Not a failure on any of the individuals involved; rather a systemic failure to truly engage and connect with those we need to meet most.
Who is Parents’ Evening actually for?
We assume that the structure of parents’ evening works—that it is a reasonable model for engaging families. And in so many respects, it does: the majority of parents do turn up. So when parents don’t, the failure is placed at their feet. They didn’t make time, they weren’t invested enough, they chose not to be involved. The system, however, is rarely questioned.
But let’s examine its underlying assumptions:
That parents feel ready, willing and comfortable engaging with the school.
That parents have the time and means to attend. The evening slots are convenient.
That parents believe the event will be worthwhile.
For the parents that schools most need to reach, it’s perfectly possible that none of these underlying assumptions are true. The issue isn’t one of individual disengagement—it’s that the system was never designed for them in the first place.
Many school leaders I know are confronting these challenges head-on, recognising that some of the more traditional approaches to parental engagement don’t work for everyone. They are finding creative ways to reach families who feel alienated from the school system, experimenting with new formats, and making genuine efforts to rebuild trust.
The purpose of this article isn’t to criticise those efforts—that is, neither the traditional nor emergent practices. The purpose of this article is to take a step back and to look at the ‘engagement challenge’ through a fresh set of lenses, borrowing ideas from other sectors that obsess about engagement, accessibility, and relationship-building.
What happens when we apply insights from service design, behavioural economics, and mediation to reimagine parents’ evening?
Designing for the edges: Three radical alternatives
In this vein, then, the challenge is not just to increase attendance at parents’ evening—it is to design something fundamentally better. Something that prioritises the families we need to repair relationships and restore connection with rather than tying up loose ends after the main event.
So, what if we started from scratch?
What if we built a model designed for the ‘hardest-to-reach’ families first, rather than assuming they would conform to a structure that already doesn’t work for them?
👨🏽✈️ The ‘Parent Concierge’ Model
A service designer would likely prioritise the creation of a seamless, inclusive and parent-first experience.
Instead of a single event, they might encourage schools to offer ongoing, personalised engagement through termly check-ins, tailored to parents’ schedules and preferred means (i.e. meeting in-person, over the phone, via Zoom).
They’d encourage schools to identify a single, dedicated parent liaison to make all of the arrangements and to handle all of the communication—ensuring that engagement is proactive rather than reactive.
They’d encourage schools to hold meetings wherever parents feel most comfortable—that might be in school, but it could be in their home, in a particular cafe, at a leisure centre.
This approach undoubtedly presents additional challenges to the school but, in some respects, that’s kind of the point…
Because value is often tied up in inconvenience. Take handwritten, birthday cards for example. They’re a nightmare to send and a dream to receive. Go to shop, buy card, find pen, consider thoughtful message, write said message (don’t mess up now!), find a stamp, damn… buy a stamp, find a post box, post the card—being sure to backwards plan and carefully sequence all of these activities 48 hours before your loved one’s birthday. All of that ‘faff’ is baked into the value of the gesture; it signifies effort, intention and a degree of sacrifice.
Likewise, if a school is willing to extend itself beyond its own convenience—venturing out into parents’ worlds rather than insisting they step into its own—that act alone sends a powerful signal: we value you, we see you, and we are willing to meet you where you are.
📋 The ‘Default’ Model
A behavioural economist would likely look to structure the system to maximise participation with minimum effort.
They might suggest that rather than tasking students to coordinate and schedule meetings with all ten of their teachers; meetings should be scheduled automatically. Why? Because it’s much harder to opt-out of something that’s already been planned.
They’d likely encourage some ‘social proofing’ to encourage engagement (e.g. “85% of parents in your year group attended last term—join them next week!”). They might suggest changing the name of the event in a bid to boost its perceived value.
And I’d eat my hat if they didn’t encourage the school to consider offering some incentives to lower barriers to participation—be that free childcare, travel vouchers, free food and drink, a raffle, etc.
🧏🏻♀️ The ‘Listening’ Model
A mediator would likely focus on rebalancing the power dynamics—shifting the vibe from an adversarial, confrontational one to a more collaborative one.
They’d encourage restructuring the format such that parents, not teachers, speak first in any engagement (“How do you feel your child is doing?”).
In certain situations, they might encourage the use of neutral facilitators to lead restorative conversations in a bid to reduce any tension or defensiveness (of any party!).
They’d encourage school leaders to proactively build positive touchpoints in advance of the meeting—i.e. calls and messages celebrating their child’s successes—to build trust before difficult conversations arise.
This all sounds great but…
This all sounds great in theory, but who’s going to run it? What about safeguarding? What if this creates more conflict or antagonism between school and home? How do we resource it within our staff’s already stretched directed time? Aren’t you just shifting the responsibility from parents to already over-burdened schools? Is it fair that some parents are given preferential treatment over others? How do we maintain boundaries? Where’s the line between engagement and over-accommodation? What if we do all of the above and it still doesn’t work—what if parents still don’t care?
All great questions. But what about the cost of inaction? What’s the cost of long-term (and potentially inter-generational) disconnection?
On time and energy: We’re already spending huge amounts of time and energy on reactive activities—effort and resource seldom costed into these big set-piece events—chasing ‘disengaged’ families after parents’ evening. Wouldn’t it be better to proactively invest this time addressing the causes of disengagement, rather than spending it on activities addressing the symptoms?
On safeguarding: Sure, some of the suggestions above represent a change in practice and might be unfamiliar for some members of staff but it’s not unchartered territory for schools. Thousands of schools conduct hundreds of home visits every single year. Clear protocols are key.
On fairness: Engagement shouldn’t be granted on a ‘first-come, first-served’ basis—where those who already trust the school get the best access. The goal isn’t to take support away from engaged families but to bring more families into the fold. Fairness isn’t about giving everyone the same thing; it’s about giving people what they need to succeed.
On mission-creep: If engagement with families is seen as ‘extra’—we’re missing the point. Arguably, a school that only functions effectively for students whose parents already trust it isn’t fulfilling its mission to support all—it’s reinforcing inequalities.
On ‘parents still not caring’: Have you ever met a parent who doesn’t care deeply about their child? I don’t think I have. The issue isn’t about ‘caring’ and ‘not caring.’ Rather, issues emerge when parents don’t care about school in the way schools expect them to—and/or when schools don’t care about the child in the way parents expect them to. So, for if a parent doesn’t engage, school leaders should be asking: ‘Why doesn’t this feel valuable to them?’ We must question the format.
Small changes, big impact
One of the biggest challenges of working within complex systems is that small changes can produce disproportionate and unpredicatable impacts. I’ve written about this in more detail here. But this also presents a great opportunity to us: small positive changes can yield a big impact.
Schools that have tried alternative approaches—both small tweaks to traditional approaches and radical redesigns—have seen real benefits. Some have introduced ‘community-based’ parents’ evenings, holding meetings in spaces where parents already feel comfortable. Many have fun with micro-incentives—like raffles for Amazon vouchers and small prizes. Others have experimented with proactive, termly phone calls instead of a single high-stakes meeting. The results? More engagement. Stronger relationships. Less adversarial interactions between parents and teachers.
The key to both is in recognising that engagement isn’t just about showing up—it’s about creating the conditions where parents want to show up and staff want to build connections and deepen understanding.