It’s that time of year again—school’s winding down, summer plans are starting to take shape, and if you have a child in school, your inbox might be filling with notices about PTO elections and volunteer sign-ups.
When my oldest started kindergarten, I joined the PTO and went to a few meetings. I never imagined I’d ever serve on the board. I was perfectly happy showing up for events and helping however I could—especially as a full-time working parent outside the home.
But at the end of that kindergarten year, in our small but mighty PTO, three of the four board members were stepping down. The PTO was at risk of folding completely.
And that’s the thing—a PTO plays a vital role in building connection between families, schools, and communities. In my post about participating in your child’s education, I talk more about why involvement matters, and how there are so many ways to show up—no matter how much time or experience you have.
As the school year wrapped up, people began asking if I’d be willing to serve as president. Me? I had never even been on a board. I didn’t have time to be on campus regularly. I wasn’t sure I was the right fit. I didn’t say yes… but I didn’t exactly say no, either.
Then, during our staff appreciation lunch, something shifted. Another parent—someone who could be on campus but didn’t want the pressure of being in charge—was also being asked to serve. We talked, and in that moment, we made a deal: I’d be the president, and she’d be the vice president.
And just like that, I became president of the PTO.
In volunteer groups, work naturally flows to the most reliable people. Without structure, it quietly concentrates — something I refer to as the Reliability Trap.
I had no idea what I was doing. But I do work in Learning & Organizational Development, and I decided to treat the PTO like I would any strong team at work. I focused on building a positive culture, clear communication, and shared ownership.
My biggest priority? No guilt. No shame.
I always tell our volunteers: I’ll always ask—but you can always say no. And I mean it.
Our school is Title I, which means nearly half of the students come from low-income households, making community support even more important. We don’t raise tons of money, but what we do raise makes a real impact.
Now, two years in, I can say with complete honesty: this has been one of the most fulfilling, valuable experiences of my life. Every hour I give gives something right back to me—and to my kids. I’m living out the values I want to model. And I’m doing it alongside a village of people who care.
So no, I’m not saying you have to go be PTO president. But if you don’t know what your school’s PTO actually does, take a minute to find out. Ask how you can help. There are plenty of ways to support—without stepping foot on campus. You can make calls, create flyers, tap into your skills, or just be an extra pair of hands during a busy event.
R