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Admissions Management
Admissions Technology
Enrollment Strategies
Marketing


Dan Yorsh
The Clipboard, a “Trusty” Tool
Back in the day, before touchscreens ruled the world, there was one mighty symbol of authority: the clipboard.
It wasn’t just a tool – it was a badge of honor, used by those in charge with a flair that demanded attention. For many of us, encountering someone with a clipboard meant awaiting our turn at an event or checking in for a school field trip – our names diligently checked off or called out from its wooden surface.
Picture it: a thin brown wooden board, complete with a shiny sliver clip that could snap your fingers if you got too close. It was the same clipboard your great-great-grandparents might’ve seen in 1870 (by the way, the light bulb was invented in 1879), and miraculously, it survived into the 21st century, still going strong at admission events like a timeless relic.
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Annalee Neukam
Confessions of an Admissions Director : The Power of the Pause
As the final bell rang and the last parent picked up their student, a strange and beautiful hush fell over campus. Teachers submitted grades, students traded backpacks for beach towels, and my team and I traded our admissions hats for – well, still admissions hats, but slightly less frantic ones.
This is our version of summer: not beaches and daiquiris (though, wouldn’t that be nice), but whiteboards, goal-setting, and the annual deep-dive into the past year’s admissions cycle. It’s when we pause, regroup, and ask the most important question no one has time for in February: Did what we do actually work?
Workshop Season: Coffee, Sticky Notes, and Brutal Honesty
Every June, our team blocks out a couple of days for what we affectionately call “Admissions Retreat,” though there’s very little retreating involved. We bring snacks, pull up our calendars, and do the thing we secretly love: analyze, review, and optimize.
This year, as always, we started with events. The open house. The small group tours. The one-on-one tours. And the ever-evolving hybrid sessions where we tried something new – inviting current and prospective families to mingle. In years past, this process meant stitching together spreadsheets, toggling between our EMS, and making educated guesses based on anecdotal wins. Not this year.
Aryval Yield Report: The Data Whisperer We Didn’t Know We Needed
Enter: the Aryval Yield Report. Cue dramatic music – or maybe just the satisfying click of my mouse as I opened the file. For the first time, our event data wasn’t just there. It was talking to us. Clearly. Cleanly. Easy on the eyes, hard on inefficiency.
We could see exactly how each event type performed. Which ones converted inquiries to applications. Which ones converted applicants to enrollments. Which ones just…existed, bless their hearts.
And perhaps most importantly, we finally had capacity yield reporting. Let me tell you: understanding not just how many families attended, but how full the event was relative to what we could handle? Game changer.
The Big Reveal (And the Events That Didn’t Make the Cut)
What did the data say? Well, for starters, those early December tours we kept hosting “just in case”? Yeah. The yield was flatter than the soda in our breakroom fridge. Meanwhile, our smaller, targeted group tours in January punched well above their weight. And hybrid events? Surprisingly effective, especially when current families shared their authentic stories.
With the report in hand, we made some bold decisions. We’re cutting back on events that underperformed. Doubling down on those that delivered. And, for once, doing it all without arguing over conflicting spreadsheets.
Insight Is the Ultimate Relief
When I think back to previous years, our event planning process felt like squinting through fog with a flashlight. This year? It felt like flipping on overhead lights. We moved from gut feelings to grounded strategy. And the team felt it too. I saw nods instead of furrowed brows. “This makes so much sense,” Liz said, with the relieved tone of someone who just found the charger they swore was lost forever.
Looking Ahead
We’re not done yet, of course. No one in admissions ever really is. But this moment, the end of the school year, the quiet before the next storm has become sacred for us. Not because we stop working, but because we finally get the space to work smart.
So yes, summer planning still involves sticky notes and strong coffee. But now, it also includes clear-eyed decisions powered by real insights. And if that’s not progress, I don’t know what is.
Until next season,
Your resident data-driven admissions romantic
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Jonathan Remis
The Power of Automation
Struggling to meet enrollment targets in your independent school? You’re not alone. Every school faces one of three paths:
My enrollment is low and I want to increase it
My enrollment is steadily increasing and I'd like to start building a waitlist
My enrollment is full, my waitlist is growing, and we're adding more classrooms (which brings us back to #1)
The ultimate goal? Path 3: full enrollment and a growing waitlist. But how do you get there?
It starts with a strong marketing and admissions team, working together seamlessly, and a process for managing leads from inquiry through application.
This is where automation comes into play. ‘Automation’ may be a scary word, or it may conjure up feelings of impersonalization, but automation has evolved to become more personalized and efficient than ever before.
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Dan Yorsh
The Hot Dog Method
If you came here thinking this post would be about hot dogs, I’m sorry. Unfortunately (or, fortunately), I will be using processed meat as an analogy for the typical technical setup most independent K-12 schools use.
Let me explain further: the buns of a hot dog represent the marketing and admissions departments, while the toppings represent the various technologies schools employ to guide families through inquiry and towards the application process. Don’t get me wrong, I love hot dogs — especially Chicago-style hot dogs, as they have just the right amount of toppings layered on top of a juicy, delicious, all-beef frankfurter. I guess it comes with growing up in Illinois.
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