Many of the school websites I audit are organised around the school. Curriculum sits under Learning because there’s a Head of Learning. Wellbeing has its own top-level tab because there’s a Head of Wellbeing. Somewhere in the fourth level of a dropdown, a family trying to work out whether your school is right for their eleven-year-old finds a PDF of the 2023 fee schedule.
Nobody intentionally sets out to make life difficult for prospective parents, of course. Schools are complex places, and for those responsible for the website content, it makes sense to organise the content around the school’s structure.
Unfortunately, parents don’t know your internal structure, and more often than not, the questions they are asking cut across that structure in a way that makes your website really overwhelming to use.
A school website that is optimised for driving enrolments is organised around a different structure entirely: the shape of a family’s decision.
What makes a good school website?
A good school website, built for driving enrolments, does one job well: it helps a family decide. It shares the school’s real story in plain language, organises information around what parents are trying to work out rather than around departments, and makes the next step obvious at every stage. It is clear, human, fast on a phone, and true to what life at the school is like.
The job of an enrolment-focused website
If the job of your school website is about driving enrolment, name it. This needs to serve prospective families first and foremost.
We made this distinction extremely clear when building the Belmont Christian College website years ago – their enrolments have more than doubled in the years that followed.
That doesn’t mean current families don’t matter. It means their needs are a service problem (fast access to the calendar, the newsletter, the absentee form), while prospective families are a persuasion problem. Solve them separately. When you try to solve both in one menu, the persuasion loses.
If you’re at the front end of a project, the four steps before you start building covers the planning side in more detail. The difference between projects that go well and projects that drag is almost always decided before a single page is designed.
Organise around the family’s questions, not your departments
Families arrive with a set of questions, and they’re rarely the questions your menus answer. In my experience they sound like:
- What will life be like here for my kid?
- How does this school handle a child like mine (the anxious one, the sporty one, the one who’s behind in maths)?
- What do I need to know to make this decision, and what will it cost?
Your site structure should ideally map to questions like these. In practice that usually means four or five buckets: the learning and wellbeing approach, community and co-curricular life, enrolment, and the practical stuff (fees, transport, uniforms, hours).
This is harder than it sounds. Cutting the menu down feels like telling colleagues their work doesn’t matter. The honest framing to bring to that conversation isn’t “this page is unimportant”; it’s “this page isn’t what a family is deciding on”. The content itself might still live on the site. It just stops competing for the same real estate.
The traits high-performing school websites share is a useful checklist to run yours against once the structure is settled.
Say who you are in language your community would recognise
Open five school websites and count how many promise to nurture the whole child and prepare students for life. I don’t doubt any of them mean it. But a claim every school makes loses its meaning.
The way through is distinctiveness: writing the story your community is already living rather than the story that sounds most impressive. If relationships are the thing at your school – if teachers know every kid’s name, and that’s rare for a school your size – then find ways to say it and show it.
Two tests for any page of your copy. Would a current parent read it and nod, or wince? Families who already know you are the best detector of copy that oversells. And could a competitor school paste it onto their site unchanged? If yes, it isn’t about you yet.
Your homepage header carries more of this weight than any other element on the site. Three elements you need in your school website header walks through the “grunt test”: what you offer, how it makes life better, what to do next, which is still a seriously helpful home-page-diagnostic.
Make the enrolment section a guide, not a form
The most common fixable problem I see is enrolment information scattered across five pages and two PDFs. Application form here, fee schedule there, tour bookings on a third-party platform with different branding, key dates in a newsletter from March.
A good enrolment section reads as one continuous path:
- How to enquire, apply and enrol, in order, with the steps named
- Key dates and timelines, kept current
- The fee structure in plain language, including what sits on top of tuition
- What happens at each stage in the enrolment journey
While you’re there, look at how a family takes the next step. Short forms. A real name and a real photo on the contact page: “talk to Jasmine, our Enrolments Officer” beats “submit your enquiry”. A clear promise about when someone will get back to them, which the school then keeps.
Treat the website as one part of the ecosystem
A website doesn’t convert an enrolment on its own. It sits inside a longer sequence: the family sees a post, searches the school, reads three pages, books a tour, gets an email, walks the campus, receives an offer, and starts. The website is doing different work at each of those moments, and it fails in a specific way when it’s designed as though the visit is a single event.
This is the thinking behind the enrolment ecosystem, the lens we use to connect your website in to the broader world that prospective parents experience when they’re considering your school.
Get the basics right, because they’re not basics
None of this survives a site that’s slow, broken on a phone, or inaccessible.
Much of your family traffic is mobile, and school sites are frequently designed on a large desktop monitor by people who then review them on a large desktop monitor. Test the enrolment path on a phone. Make sure it’s easy, every step of the way.
On accessibility: I regret not pushing harder on this in websites I built years ago. It affects real families in your community, it’s increasingly a compliance question, and it correlates closely with the things that make a site good anyway: clear structure, real headings, sensible contrast, alt text that says something.
You might not need a full rebuild
This is the part schools least expect us to say – but we do, often! The default response to a website that isn’t working is a rebuild, and rebuilds are expensive, slow, and often solve the wrong problem, because the problem was usually structure and story, not the platform.
Sometimes the answer is a new build, when the technology is at end of life or the school has changed so much the site can’t stretch. Sometimes it’s a re-skin. And sometimes it’s re-architecting what already exists: same content, same CMS, completely different shape. Three ways that’s played out in practice for schools working with Bolsta Education: re-architecting a website without rebuilding it, a low-cost re-skin with outsized impact, and building a future-proof school website from the ground up.
Which one you need depends on where the failure actually is, and that’s worth diagnosing before you brief anyone. If you’d like a hand with that part, it’s what creative and infrastructure work covers.
About the author
Jacob Shultz
Founder, Bolsta Education
Jacob is a specialist in experience strategy for schools. His focus is on improving the lived experience of schools — through story, systems and the small moments that shape how families feel.
