The first Town Hall the studio runs without the guide driving. Rules of Engagement get cut down and locked. And the Leadership Roles board opens - as an invitation nobody has to accept, not a set of assignments.
By 3:15 today the studio has a Rules of Engagement v1 they wrote themselves, on the wall, in their own handwriting - and a Roles board that nobody was pressured into.
Not the guide with a learner holding the agenda. If you spoke more than four times, it wasn't learner-led.
In learner language, however clumsy. Hung on the wall by learners before the end of Quest.
Whatever's on the roles board was chosen freely. An empty board is an acceptable outcome today.
Standard rhythm. Greet every learner by name. The Daily Thinking Puzzle is up by the cubbies.
Bell, tidy, walk to the launch space. By Week 2 this should need no narration - if it does, narrate it once more.
Talking points, not a script. Hit these in your own words - the studio can tell the difference, and the ones that land are the ones you actually mean.
The opener (2 min):
"Last week I ran Town Hall and narrated everything I was doing. Today I'm not running it - [Learner] is. My job today is to be an active follower."
Then say what that actually means, because it's a phrase they haven't heard: "That means I'm going to be listening hard, taking notes on what you say, and doing my part to make this a good Town Hall. It doesn't mean I've disappeared. Following well is a real job and most people are bad at it."
The studio's job (10 min):
Be specific, because "participate well" means nothing. Name the four jobs and put them on the board:
Then: "The hardest one is number three. When you disagree with somebody, the move is 'I hear what you're saying, and…' not 'no, actually.' Try it today even if it feels weird."
The agenda preview (5 min):
Two items today, both real:
The close (3 min):
"One more thing about today. If Town Hall goes badly, that's not a disaster - that's the data we use to make the next one better. Nobody has to be perfect at this. We just have to actually try it."
Coach the Town Hall leader on Monday or Tuesday, not this morning. Ten minutes, one-on-one: walk them through the agenda, give them a script for the two hardest moments (someone talking too long, and dead silence), and tell them you'll be sitting on your hands on purpose. A leader who's been coached will hold it. A leader who gets handed an agenda at 8:45 will drown.
Standard rhythm.
Standard rhythm.
Standard rhythm.
Standard rhythm. Last chance for learners to drop a topic in the Town Hall box - announce that at the start of snack.
Agenda (posted before the studio walks in):
The guide's ninety seconds on roles - the gist of it - your words, this shape:
"This afternoon a board goes up with a list of roles - jobs that help the studio run. Here's the important part. Nobody is getting assigned one. I'm not going to hand these out, and I'm not going to ask you to volunteer in front of everyone. The board just exists. If you want one, take one. If you want none, take none. If you take one and hate it, hand it back at next Town Hall. If a role sits empty all week, we'll notice and we'll talk about it here - that's a studio problem to solve, not a you problem."
What the guide does during Town Hall: models followership, visibly. See the callout below - this is the part learners will actually copy.
Not speaking is easy and it teaches nothing. Being a visibly excellent follower is hard, and it is the thing the studio will copy. Sit at learner height, inside the circle, and be conspicuously engaged:
Half the studio is learning to lead today. The other half is learning to follow well, and there is exactly one model of that in the room.
Three to five rules. The studio will want eleven. Everything past five stops being a rule and starts being a wish list, and a wish list doesn't get followed. If they push, the answer is: "Anything we cut goes in the Studio Manual, and the Manual is real - it just isn't the five things we hold each other to every single day."
Standard rhythm.
Wednesday is the unplugged read-along slot. Physical books where possible. Class-voted title.
Two jobs. Turn the words the studio agreed at Town Hall into physical objects they made themselves - a rule you painted is a rule you own. And open the Roles board with genuinely zero pressure, so that whatever ends up on it is a real choice rather than a set of chores handed out by an adult.
Part 1 - the poster crew (25 min):
Part 2 - the Roles board open house (18 min):
Part 3 - the close (7 min):
Don't read out who signed up for what. Don't comment on empty roles. One line: "Whatever's on that board at the end of the week is what the studio chose. That's real, and we'll see how it goes."
Learners will come and ask you what a role means. That's the moment the whole thing either works or collapses into you assigning roles conversationally.
The answer is never the answer. It's a question, every time:
"What does the description say?"
If they read it and still don't understand, then: "What do you think it'd look like on a Tuesday?" Let them construct it. If the description is genuinely unclear, that's a fault in the board and you fix the board - out loud, in front of them - rather than patching it with a conversation only one learner heard.
The reason this matters: the second you explain a role, you've made it yours. The learner is now signing up for a thing the guide described to them personally, which is about four inches from being asked. Pointing at the board keeps the role belonging to the studio.
Do not talk anyone into a role. Not one persuasive sentence. You may say "you'd be good at that" to at most one learner today, quietly, and only if it's true and they're already looking at the board. A role someone was talked into is a chore they'll resent by October. A role someone chose is an identity they'll defend. Continuing learners here have had a lot of freedom and will smell an assignment dressed up as an invitation from across the room.
Carry forward: Empty roles are useful information, not a failure. If half the board is bare on Friday, the question for next week's Town Hall isn't "who'll step up?" - it's "are these roles anyone actually wants, or are they just jobs I wanted done?" Be willing to hear the second answer.
Standard rhythm, 20 minutes. If anyone signed up for a maintenance-adjacent role today, let them try running their piece - badly is fine.
Callouts likely to be available today: whoever led Town Hall, whoever gave up a rule they'd argued for, whoever built on someone else's idea instead of starting over. Name the trait, not just the act.
One question: "What was different about Town Hall when a learner ran it?" Take three answers, including a critical one if it comes.
Send-off at the door, by name, with eye contact. Every learner, every day.
Talking points for this week's email. Drop these into an AI assistant along with two or three live notes from your actual week - a name, a moment, something that surprised you - and it'll give you a draft in your own voice. The specifics are what make it land; the structure below is just the scaffolding.
The draft underneath is an example of the shape and the tone, not a template to send as-is. A parent who gets the same email as every other parent can tell.
Subject: They ran it themselves today
Hi families,
Today was the first Town Hall run by a learner instead of by me. I sat down, took notes, and spoke about four times. It was slightly chaotic and completely worth it.
Two things came out of it. The studio cut their draft list of studio rules down to a short set they can actually hold each other to - the cutting was harder than the writing, which is usually the case. They spent the afternoon making posters of those rules, in their own words and their own handwriting, and hung them on the wall themselves.
We also opened the Leadership Roles board. I want to be clear about how that works, because it's deliberate: nobody is assigned a role. The board is simply there. Learners can take one, take none, or take one and hand it back. If your learner comes home without a role, that's a legitimate choice and not something to nudge them about. If they come home with one, ask what it actually involves - they'll know.
- [your name]