When companies design for people, they often begin with what matters most: families. At Philips, for example, designers don’t start with machines—they start with people. Before sketching prototypes, they create likenesses of families with names, stories, and daily routines. Every decision is measured not by technical possibility, but by human need. That same principle guided the Colorado Association of School Boards (CASB) conference, where I was invited to speak. CASB didn’t simply talk about families—they brought students into the heart of the event.
On the opening day, I arrived early to capture photos and stumbled into a mariachi rehearsal. Students in radiant uniforms, some Hispanic and some not, played side by side. Together, they honored a tradition larger than themselves. Later, another student sang the national anthem. CASB didn’t need cardboard cutouts to symbolize children. They invited students themselves to set the tone—reminding us that every discussion about education must return to the children and families we serve. As a speaker on family engagement in schools, I was deeply impressed by how CASB wove students and culture into the conference itself. It was a living example of how to place families at the center of leadership conversations.
Photo by Leila Kubesch- The Mariachi Band led by Teacher Brian Crim
In my session, “How to Form Parent Partnership with Purpose and Power,” I shared my own journey. I am Indigenous North African—we call ourselves Amazigh, which means “free people.” Yet the word “Berber,” often used for us, comes from barbaros, a Greek word meaning foreigner, later borrowed by Romans and passed into Arabic with connotations of outsider or uncivilized. Names matter. They can divide or dignify. When I first came to the U.S., people often assumed I was Hispanic and wanted to practice Spanish with me. At first, I resisted, then eventually I learned the language to avoid disappointing others. Later, when I was named Ohio Teacher of the Year for Spanish, I laughed to myself: Now everyone will think I’m Hispanic for sure. Behind the humor was a truth: I didn’t share the same culture as many of the families I served. What mattered most was not cultural mastery—it was learning to ask better questions.
To bring these lessons to life, I didn’t just speak about parent partnerships—I invited the audience into the experience. Through lighthearted skits, I showed the common missteps that occur in family-school meetings: interpreters dominating the conversation, cultural cues being missed, or educators talking at parents instead of with them. Each skit turned abstract challenges into relatable moments. Attendees laughed, reflected, and then worked together to brainstorm how they would handle similar situations differently. These interactive pieces kept the session engaging while driving home the larger truth: connection grows when we learn to ask questions with humility and listen with intent.
For weeks, I had once asked boys roaming the halls during lunch, Why don’t you eat? They always said, We just don’t. Then I reframed the question: What would it take for you to eat? Their answer was one word: Money. That single moment revealed the disconnect between schools and families. One family invited me to help with the online meal application. Without Wi-Fi, they couldn’t complete it. I worked with the cafeteria director, and soon more families reached out. Eventually, every student began eating lunch again. Their grades rose. Their eligibility for sports returned. This experience underscored what CASB demonstrated so beautifully at their conference: schools thrive when families are not an afterthought, but full partners in the work of education.
As a speaker, I attend many education events across the country. CASB stood out because they didn’t just talk about students—they made them visible. They honored tradition, celebrated diversity, and wove culture into the fabric of the conference. That is the kind of leadership we need in education today. Real family engagement in schools means not just inviting parents to occasional meetings, but creating structures where families and students shape the conversation. CASB modeled what it looks like to keep families at the table—not as symbols, but as collaborators. And that’s the vision I carry forward: schools where connection, collaboration, and communication guide every decision.
Family engagement is not a side program. It is the foundation of school success. CASB’s commitment to centering students and families is a reminder of what is possible when schools lead with connection. As I told leaders at the conference: “We don’t have to share every culture or background. What we must share is the right question.” That is how we create schools where every child belongs.
Leila Kubesch is a keynote speaker, speaking coach, and author. Her keynote, The Art of the Ask, shows leaders and teams how to make the ask with confidence. To bring Leila to your event, write to Leila@LeilaKubesch.com.
