By Father Alfonse Nazzaro
Special to The Texas Catholic
If I were a prospective elementary school parent, the first question I would ask a principal or teacher would be: What is your mission?
Why that question? Why not ask how many graduates became valedictorians, how many went on to top high schools, how many merit scholars walked the halls, or how many championships were won? Those are impressive accomplishments, but as a parent, my only concern is: What can you do for my child?
When everyone in a school knows the mission, it means everyone is pulling in the same direction. The answer should come quickly, passionately, and precisely — ideally, the mission statement recited word for word, not because it is memorized, but because it has lived in every heart and mind.
No serious organization operates without a mission or purpose statement — not businesses, not ministries, not even families. For schools, the mission is what sets them apart and justifies their very existence. And how faithfully it is carried out is the truest measure of success.
As a pastor, I have sometimes worried I was asking too much of people. Then I realized — a lot is asked of me, too. One day, inspired by the Holy Spirit, a thought came to me that I have never forgotten: The mission is the boss. The mission comes first. And the mission never ends.
That conviction has shaped my priesthood and my leadership in Catholic education ever since. If someone thinks I’m being too demanding, I remind them — it is not me, it is the mission.
Years ago, Catholic schools were often defined by the parishes or neighborhoods they served. Families enrolled out of proximity, loyalty, cultural ties, or shared socio-economic realities.
Some people believe that for a Catholic school to survive, it must be attached to a large parish in an affluent neighborhood. While large, affluent parishes can support a school, thriving Catholic schools are not limited to these conditions. In fact, schools with abundant resources can sometimes become complacent over time. The reality is that a school that faithfully executes its mission, maintains high standards, and continually improves its programs will succeed. The quality of a parochial school is not determined by uncontrollable external factors — it is shaped by people, vision, and tenacity.
Catholic school leaders must decide — are we content to be okay, or are we committed to being the best of the best?
I once heard Coach Nick Saban put it this way:
“In life, you have five options:
You can be bad at what you do.
You can be okay at what you do.
You can be good at what you do.
You can be excellent at what you do.
Or you can be elite.”
At Alabama, they chose to be elite — not out of arrogance, but because they decided to live up to who they said they were.
A mission statement should be simple, but simple isn’t always easy. Too often, it gets buried under lofty or fuzzy language. It should be clear, measurable, and — most importantly — visual. It should paint a picture in the mind. When someone asks, “What does success look like?” I want to be able to say: It looks like this —kids love Jesus; they love their teachers; they love to learn; and you can see it on their faces.
The mission is not the same as ambition. Mission is why we exist and what we hope to achieve for others. Ambition is what we hope to achieve for ourselves — things like enrollment targets, fundraising totals, or waitlists. Those are good, but they are results, not reasons. Ironically, the surest way to reach ambitious goals is to go deeper into the mission and refine how we live it.
When a community keeps the mission front and center, expectations align. Everyone — students, parents, faculty, and staff — works like an elite team. One team. One vision. One message. One mission.
Too many schools rely on clever marketing or flashy events, forgetting the best recruitment tool: word of mouth. This summer, I stayed at a phenomenal hotel. The experience was so good, I can’t stop talking about it. Someone once said, it’s better to have 10 people who love what you do than 100 who think it’s fine. The 10 will share the good news every chance they get.
The same is true for schools. When the mission is visible every day, people notice. Teachers feel valued when students are engaged and curious. Burnout drops when the work connects to something meaningful, even when the workload increases.
When students are happy, teachers are happy. When teachers are happy, parents are happy. And happy parents talk — sharing their gratitude with friends, neighbors, and coworkers. A school’s reputation grows naturally when the mission is alive.
Education is always changing — socially, spiritually, intellectually, and technologically — and Catholic schools must be ready for the future our students will face. We think not only of the children we teach today, but also of those who will walk our halls fifty years from now.
Principals will come and go. Pastors will come and go. Teachers will come and go. Neighborhoods will change. But the mission remains.
A school rooted in its mission will endure, because the mission is the boss.
The mission comes first.
And the mission never ends.
Father Alfonse Nazzaro is the pastoral administrator of Mary Immaculate Catholic Church and School in Farmers Branch.
Cutline for featured image: Students of Mary Immaculate Catholic School in Farmers Branch are pictured during the first day of the school’s 2025-26 school year. (Courtesy photo)
