by Rob Stewart
When I arrived in Wuxi, China, as a newly appointed executive principal, I thought I understood how to build relationships with government officials. After all, I had spent years navigating bureaucratic structures in Australia’s government school system. I invited the heads of police, immigration and the education bureau to my office for morning tea. Not a single person came.
My personal assistant looked at me with a mixture of sympathy and bemusement.
‘You have to go to them first,’ she explained.
That moment taught me something profound about leadership in an international context: respect is not something you command – it is something you earn by showing it first. And it set the tone for a career that would span three countries, dozens of schools, and countless lessons in cultural humility.
From Guaranteed Funding to ‘Bums on Seats’
My career began in the Australian government school system, where I rose to Level 6 principal – the highest classification. I championed inclusion, developed professional learning communities, secured state grants, and trained over 1,000 administrators in leadership and finance.
It was fulfilling work. Funding was guaranteed. Staff salaries were secure. As a principal, you could focus entirely on educational outcomes without worrying about financial viability.
Then came 2009, when I was offered a principal role with Eton House in Wuxi – and I quickly discovered that international education operates by different rules entirely.
The most significant difference? What I call the ‘bums on seats’ imperative. Student recruitment is central to everything. Targets are set. Performance bonuses tied to enrolment growth. Marketing and branding become essential competencies.
‘You have to be careful and you have to perform,’ I learned. ‘Really your blood and tears are for the companies.
‘This commercial reality sits in tension with the government-school philosophy of inclusion I had developed over decades. In Australia, inclusion meant serving every student in your catchment area regardless of ability or background. In the international context, nothing is equal. Schools must understand and serve a specific marketplace to survive.
Yet this does not mean abandoning ethics. ‘You can still be ethical and still hold your integrity,’ I insist. ‘But you need to understand that you’re in a business now.’The challenge is reconciling these two realities: maintaining student achievement as your central purpose while understanding that reputation, market position and financial sustainability are essential to making that purpose possible.
The Currency of Respect
That humbling experience in Wuxi taught me a lesson I have carried throughout my career: respect for culture and position is the most valuable investment a leader can make.
Once I began visiting officials in their offices rather than expecting them to come to me, everything changed. The head of the education bureau came to regard me as ‘a brother’. When Australian principal friends visited, they were astonished to see the official walking with his arm around my shoulder after a meeting.
‘You’ve got to take yourself not too importantly,’ I explain. ‘You’ve got to be a humble servant.’
The contrast became stark when my successor arrived. A new principal received word that a government group was downstairs wanting to meet him. ‘They didn’t make an appointment. I’m busy,’ he said – and he refused to see them. That single decision destroyed the school’s relationship with the education bureau overnight.
‘He didn’t understand that you’re never going to get an appointment on time in China,’ I recall. ‘It was his hierarchical sense: “I’m important” – rather than “I’m in China and this is how it works”.’
What Parents Should Look For
When parents ask me what to look for in an international school, I give the same answer regardless of whether they choose my school. I want families to understand what a good school looks like.
The first signpost is a recognised, accredited curriculum – the IB, for example, signals global recognition. But curriculum is only half the story.
‘The second thing you need to look at is how we operate,’ I tell parents. ‘How do you know we’re using finances correctly? How do you know we’ve got safe schools and qualified teachers?
‘External accreditation from agencies like WASC or CIS tells families that a school meets world-class standards. For teachers, too, accreditation matters – quality educators want to work in schools with rigorous curricula and professional practices.
‘Accreditation is critical,’ I emphasise. ‘You can’t play the game at the highest level if your international teachers look at your curriculum and say, “Oh, it’s our own design – I don’t want to play that kind of thing.”
‘Opening Doors, Not Closing Them
One of the most persistent battles in international education is English proficiency in admissions. I have encountered this repeatedly, and it challenges my instinct for inclusion every time.
When I took over as CEO in Beijing, my largest school had rejected thirty students because their English levels were low. The principal told parents to go away for six months and learn English elsewhere.’
I said, “Why should they go somewhere else when they could come here and do it?”‘ I recall. I insisted the school develop an intensive English programme immediately, hire additional teachers, and go back to those families with a revised offer. The principal resisted. I made my position clear: ‘If you don’t want to do it, leave.’
The resistance came from a mindset that students must arrive with English already at grade level. But I had seen evidence that students who received intensive support could master IGCSEs, A-Levels and the IB Diploma. They could attend university – given the opportunity.
This same battle followed me to Lanna International School in Chiang Mai, where the admissions process prioritised English proficiency. Given the changing demographics of the city, I questioned the approach.
‘We changed to enrol kids who have the capacity to learn,’ I explain. ‘We use CAT4 cognitive assessments to tell us whether they’re bright and have strong learning capacity, as opposed to whether they already have high levels of English.’
This is my government-school philosophy breaking through: every student deserves opportunity. The job of a leader is to open doors, not close them.
The Two-Way Street of Teacher Support
Teacher retention in international schools is expensive. Recruiting and relocating a teacher can cost tens of thousands of dollars. Losing a teacher within the first two months is an educational and financial setback.
I learned early that support must begin before teachers board the plane. HR teams meet them at the airport, deliver a gift bag of essentials, organise orientation, and accompany them through banking, phone service, housing and utilities.
‘Training your Chinese staff to understand why international teachers can’t do the basic things is half the battle,’ I explain. ‘When they understand why, they feel valuable – their services are essential.
‘Leaders must ensure induction systems work, communicate about professional development, work-life balance and wellbeing, and be upfront about expectations. ‘Accountability isn’t about appraisal,’ I clarify. ‘It’s about making sure we are supporting you to do your job well. It’s a two-way street.’
Doing the Right Thing
I am a father of five, and this shapes my view of leadership profoundly. When I think about virtues, I keep coming back to one word: principled.
‘Knowing what is right and wrong, but choosing to do the right thing – it’s incredibly important,’ I say. ‘No matter what you do, just be honest and do the right thing.’
Recently, HR came to me with a problem. Several teachers were leaving with visas expiring two days before their flights. The suggestion was to ask teachers to overstay and the school would cover the penalty.
I stopped it immediately.
‘You can’t put a teacher in a position where they are taking the penalty for us,’ I insisted. ‘Whether it’s hard work or not, we have to provide visas until the end of July.’
My reasoning was simple. When these teachers apply for visas elsewhere in the future, they will be asked if they have ever overstayed. Saying ‘yes’ – even for two days – does not look good. The school might save a small hassle, but the teacher carries a record that could affect their international mobility.
‘That’s an example of the way I manage things,’ I reflect. ‘Doing the right thing.’
A Career of Humble Service
From Australian government schools to executive leadership across China, Singapore and Thailand, my journey has been defined by a willingness to learn, adapt and serve. I now serve as Head of School at Lanna International School Thailand, helping to guide our community forward.
My advice to aspiring international school leaders is simple: be humble, be respectful, and never lose sight of the students. Accreditation, marketing and financial sustainability all matter – but they are means to an end. The end is student achievement, and the path to that end is paved with integrity.
‘You’ve got to take yourself not too importantly,’ I reflect, ‘and you’ve got to be a humble servant. When you show respect to a culture and a group of people, it’s an enormous investment in the future.’
That investment, I have proven, pays dividends that no balance sheet can capture.
Rob Stewart, Former Head of School, Lanna International School, Thailand
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