At most schools, the daily schedule is treated as a fixed blueprint, becoming so deeply embedded in tradition that it’s rarely questioned, let alone reimagined. Pingry, of course, is not like most schools. And so the problem of time itself has come under scrutiny. Redesigning the schedule requires the community to alter the way time is structured across its classrooms and campuses. It’s an ambitious and foundational challenge, one that Head of School Tim Lear is certain is achievable. As he wrote in an email to colleagues in June, “This work is not just about blocks of time—it’s about building a balanced school day to unlock deeper learning, support student wellbeing, and create space for connection, passion, purpose, and professional growth.” In short, a schedule redesign project would not simply tweak class periods or shift lunch blocks, but rather call on the community to fundamentally rethink how we value our time, and, in doing so, how we deepen our learning and connection.
Pingry’s current schedule supports much of the School’s bustling activities, from Taiko drumming in Hauser Auditorium to students meeting with their teachers during Flex. Yet through the years, cracks have begun to emerge. Students increasingly feel they rarely have time to reflect. Teachers have a creeping sense that the pace is getting busier and busier. As Assistant Lower School Director of Academics, Andy Williams saw it, the traditional school day is struggling to keep up with the demands of today and tomorrow that often accompany an interconnected world, something he calls future readiness. “Future readiness, to me, is the ability to adapt and evolve based on a thoughtful exploration of potential futures and taking a deliberate approach to our school’s future,” he explains. The key, as he saw it, was to find what was working and what wasn’t.
Thus, the Scheduling Design Steering Committee was formed with the intention of figuring it all out. “We went on this listening tour,” says Mr. Williams, who is helping to guide the committee’s efforts, “and we used a protocol where we asked a couple of simple questions about what’s working and what’s not working. It’s a pretty simple protocol where you don’t ask people to editorialize—you just ask them to list what’s working and what’s not working.” The feedback contained both positives and negatives. “The list that was generated was extensive. It’s amazing when you give people time to do that, how they really start to go beyond fears and frustrations and identify where there are, indeed, some opportunities.”
Upper School Mathematics Teacher Brad Poprik, who is also on the committee, has taken a big-picture approach. “When we think about schedule, we think about time, space, and curriculum,” he observes. “Those are the kinds of things we have to think about. So time is the one thing we are working on, but we are still restricted by the current staffing that we have, the current space that we have, and the current curriculum that we have. Can we change something about the curriculum? Can we change the space? Do we have the ability to have more staffing to possibly have a longer-term plan?”
After holding several listening sessions with faculty, staff, and students, clear trends emerged. First and foremost, time is the most valuable currency the School has. Structured flexibility—pockets of time that aren’t over scheduled but rather intentionally designed—is essential. Faculty across divisions called for coordinated bell schedules to enable cross-campus collaboration and shared programming. Middle School Friday schedules presented particular challenges. And educators who taught in both the Middle and Upper Schools were frequently tasked with being in two places at once. “Crossover teachers are in this really strange situation where they may have a class that starts in five minutes before the end of another class,” admits Mr. Williams, adding that coaches are in similar positions, often having to close up a class while being ready on the field.
“The problem is that the Upper School schedule and the Middle School schedule have both been moving in different directions,” says Mr. Poprik. “They are less aligned than they have ever been.” It presented a frustrating problem for the faculty. “If I am a teacher in the Middle School, I have completely different timing than the Upper School. So we can’t have people teach in both,” he states, noting that when the current schedule was created back in 2014, there had been a lot of overlap. “It had been easier for our students and faculty to crossover, but now it’s become almost impossible because there’s so little alignment.”
Pacing across the day and week needed to be addressed as well. Students and faculty alike were stretched thin, as the current cadence often rewards speed over depth. The overwhelming feeling was that it had to change. “Students were not complaining about free time so they could sit around and play video games,” says Mr. Poprik. “That’s not what they want. They want free time so they can explore different interests. They want time that has flexibility, so they have agency with what they do with that time.” Some students shared that classes that require laptops meant they could finally interact with their friends, if only through Google Chat, bringing them much-needed moments of connection, however brief.
“Even if you only have time for a 10-minute download with your friends, it allows you to have a conversation that you need to have, and then it makes you more productive with the time that you’re actually in the classroom,” Mr. Poprik says. “So the reason behind slowing the pace down is to allow students to be more efficient when they’re in the classroom, and to give them time to unload the stuff that’s weighing on them throughout the day.”
Just as students shared they needed space to explore, tinker, and reflect without every moment mapped out for them, teachers also shared they needed time that is protected, rather than it being simply incidental. Planning, reflecting, and innovating are too important to happen in five-minute hallway conversations.
Another truth became clear: the schedule and the physical environment are tightly linked. Any reimagining of the schedule must also reimagine how space is used, shared, and designed. And finally, and perhaps most importantly, coherence matters. Without a system that works across divisions, no single fix will stick. The new structure must work holistically for everyone. After all, time does not exist in silos.
The schedule redesign is nothing short of a structural reset—the kind of shift that clears space for something better to grow. It’s being led by a team that knows the stakes. The Scheduling Design Steering Committee, made up of faculty leaders across divisions, is determined to guide the process with care, urgency, and ambition. Their charge is crucial: build something bold, thoughtful, and meant to last.
The committee is spearheading an internal rethink, encouraging the wider community to consider time not as a constraint, but as a tool that allows for the structure of the day to invite more curiosity, more connection, and more meaning. Because ultimately, while a schedule can’t teach, it can make space for great teaching. And while a schedule can’t inspire, it can give inspiration room to breathe. In short, with the right approach, time can be on our side.
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To contact the author: Sara Courtney