Somewhere along the way, it has started to feel like the answer to every communications challenge is “more.” More channels. More formats. More content. More features. More tools. More users. More “storytelling” (not to mention more storytellers). More pressure to create for the sake of creating. More vendors popping up with more solutions. More inspirational speakers inspiring visionary communications strategies in people who still send photos embedded in Word docs.
And underneath all those “mores” is something that I don’t see discussed often: the more people managing more platforms and using more apps translates to more risks. More accessibility concerns, more privacy questions, more things to manage, monitor and maintain right at the time when the stakes for school districts have never been higher.
I’ve got a fairly large network of school communicators who’ll tell me things that they’d never put in a LinkedIn post, and I hear the fears, the questions and the struggles that seem to only increase every school year.
If you’re a one-person school communications shop stressed out about how you’re supposed to keep up with it, I have good news: you don’t have to, you can’t and you shouldn’t be trying to.
Tomorrow starts my 11th school year doing this work, and if I’ve learned anything, it’s that being effective at this job isn’t about how much you produce. It’s about knowing what deserves your limited time, attention and expertise, and letting the rest go.
So, from one one-person shop to another, here are three things I think you should spend less time on this year, and what you should be making room for instead:
Less social media. More SEO/GEO and owned assets.
Yes, I know. Social media is fun. And there’s a nice dopamine when the “likes” and “shares” start rolling in. I know I’m going to get some pushback on this one, but here’s the harsh truth: it’s not 2013 anymore. In 2026, reach is determined by interest, not by social circle. The algorithm may or may not put your post in front of the people you’re hoping to reach. So, if your time and energy is limited, invest it into the channels you control: your website, school-home communications systems, email newsletter lists, and even good old-fashioned direct mailing lists.
If someone is actively searching Google or asking an AI search tool about your school or district? They’re invested, they have a question and you want your website to be the source of truth for the answer, not leave it to Google, or an AI tool to fill in the blanks. So, less time feeding the content beast, and more time auditing your website, beefing up your evergreen pages, cleaning up outdated content, replacing .pdfs with searchable web content and researching what questions your users are actually typing into search.
Social media still has value, and I’m not advocating jumping ship, but don’t spend five hours creating something with a useful life of two to five days, if the page your families depend on year-round hasn’t been updated since 2022.
Less documenting everything. More intentional storytelling.
Listen, my favorite part of the job is walking into a classroom with a camera. I love telling schools’ stories, and I absolutely believe these stories matter. But, I think we’ve gotten so focused on capturing the moment that we’ve forgotten to ask ourselves whether capturing it is actually adding anything to our story.
What story is 80 photos of a field day telling other than “We had field day. The kids had fun.”?
You could spend a couple of afternoons rushing from one field day to another to capture photos at every school. Or, you could spend that same amount of time at one school where the field day is a culmination of a year-long health initiative talking to students, interviewing the PE teacher, capturing the experience and telling the larger story of why this work matters.
“But, Courtney!” I hear you exclaim, “Why can’t I just ask staff members at each school to send photos of the field days I can’t cover?”
I mean, you can.
Then, you can spend your time collecting photos from multiple emails, text messages and file share platforms into one folder, removing duplicates, converting .heics into .jpg, and then picking out the ones that are actually somewhat focused and upload those to Facebook, or a gallery on your website. And after all that work…you’re still pretty much just documenting that field day happened.
Which one is the more important story to tell? Which one communicates something meaningful about your district? Which one is the better investment of your time?
Not every event is a story. Sometimes, field day is just field day, and that’s OK.
Less keeping up. More looking ahead.
It’s really easy in a one-person shop to spend your entire day responding to what’s in front of you, but in a rapidly-evolving technological landscape within an industry known for being late adopters, you need to also be looking ahead.
Make room in your day to learn about the issues shaping our work: emerging technologies, children’s digital privacy, AI and how it changes search and content creation, accessibility requirements, and legislation and court decisions that could affect how schools communicate.
That knowledge gives you a voice when policies are being written, practices are being reconsidered or someone comes back from a conference excited about a shiny new “solution” that sounds innovative but complicates the problem instead of solving it.
You don’t need to become an attorney, accessibility expert, AI researcher or a developer, but you do need to know enough to spot potential problems, ask better questions and bring the right people into the conversation.
The bottom line:
We’re resourceful by nature. We’re good at figuring it out and making it work. But that’s also where we fall into trouble, because being capable of doing everything doesn’t mean that everything deserves to get done. When you’re a department of one prioritization isn’t a productivity hack, it’s part of the job. You can’t do everything well when you’re spread too thin, so knowing what deserves your time, and building up the confidence to let go of what doesn’t may be the most important skill set you develop.
Wishing you a new school year that’s kind to you,
Courtney
