Fair warning: this is not a weather blog. But living in Canada, I check the forecast more often than I check my email, so you'll have to forgive me for leaning on it as an analogy.

Here's the thing. Before families step out the door to tour your campus, a lot of them now check something that works a lot like a forecast. They open an AI tool, type "best independent school near me," and get back one short, confident answer. No scrolling through ten pages of links. Just: here's what to expect.

So the big question is, what does the forecast say about your school?

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.

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