From Activities to Impact: The Evolution of Student Leadership at De La Salle

 

For much of De La Salle’s history, student leadership didn’t look like a formal system. It looked like energy. It looked like initiative. And often, it looked like whoever was willing to step up.

“Leadership was really driven by activities,” recalls English teacher and House System Assistant Director Gregory Brown-Davis. “You had class presidents and roles, but it wasn’t a true structure. It was more about getting things done: planning events, running rallies, making things happen.”

In those earlier years, student leadership lived largely within student activities. Students organized dances, coordinated events, and built school spirit through rallies and traditions like the student section. Leadership wasn’t always explicitly taught, it was experienced. Students learned by doing, by showing up early, staying late, and figuring it out along the way.

But there were gaps.

At times, leadership became a popularity contest. Brown-Davis remembers students campaigning in ways that emphasized visibility over substance. Other times, leadership depended heavily on a few motivated individuals, or a single adult, to drive everything forward. Opportunities weren’t always visible to every student, and too often, meaningful leadership experiences didn’t come until senior year.

“You don’t want to discover leadership as a senior,” he says. “You want that experience from the start.”

Even so, leadership still shaped De La Salle in powerful, lasting ways. Brown-Davis recalls moments that revealed the strength of student voice and unity, like a campus-wide walkout in the 1990s that made headlines and demonstrated just how connected students could be when they rallied around something together.

He also remembers a formative moment on the football team, when several teammates attended the Million Man March and missed practice. When they returned, instead of punishment, they were given the space to explain why it mattered. Their teammates listened.

“It sparked something bigger,” Brown-Davis says. “It was about understanding each other.”

Leadership, in these moments, wasn’t about titles. It was about influence, empathy, and presence.

“It was the ethos of the school,” he explains. “You might not have called yourself a leader, but if something needed to be done, you stepped up.”

Still, those experiences were often limited to specific groups. Brotherhood was strong, but it was often contained within teams, programs, or shared activities.

“You’d see it on the football team, or in the band, or in theater,” Brown-Davis says. “But if you weren’t in those spaces, you might miss it.”

That realization led to an important question: what if every student had access to that same sense of belonging and the opportunity to lead? That question became urgent in 2020.

As the pandemic forced schools into isolation, De La Salle educators faced a new challenge; how to welcome students into a community they couldn’t physically experience.

“We asked ourselves, how are we going to bring new Spartans into this brotherhood when everything is remote?” says Head Librarian and House System Director Brooke Heskett.

The answer was OnBoard.

Born out of necessity but rooted in De La Salle’s Lasallian mission, OnBoard was designed to create connection from day one. Developed in partnership with the Boomerang Project, the program trained student leaders to guide incoming students through virtual breakout rooms, conversations, and activities. It wasn’t just orientation. It was intentional relationship-building.

“We didn’t want students to feel like they were alone,” Heskett says. “We wanted them to know from day one that they belonged.”

The response was powerful.

Students stepped up in large numbers to lead, even in a fully remote environment. They gave their time, their energy, and their presence to welcome others. When campus reopened, OnBoard transitioned into an in-person experience, continuing to grow each year in both size and impact.

More importantly, it reshaped how De La Salle thought about leadership.

“This wasn’t just about planning events,” Heskett explains. “It was about mentorship, connection, and helping others feel seen.”

At the same time, it revealed a limitation.

OnBoard created meaningful relationships, but many of those structured interactions faded after the first few months of school. The need became clear: connection couldn’t be a moment. It had to be ongoing.

“We needed something more sustained,” Brown-Davis says. “More touchpoints, more opportunities.”

That idea became the House System.

Built on the foundation of OnBoard, the House System was designed to create consistent, intentional connections across grade levels and interests. Students were grouped in ways that broke down traditional social silos, bringing together athletes, artists, freshmen, seniors, and everyone in between.

“I wasn’t aiming to create leaders at first,” Brown-Davis admits. “I was aiming to create connection.”

But leadership followed, naturally and powerfully.

Today, nearly 100 students serve as House leaders, with even more opportunities on the horizon. And those opportunities don’t look the same for everyone.

“Not every student wants to stand up and speak in front of a group,” Heskett says. “But that doesn’t mean they aren’t leaders.”

The House System is intentionally expanding what leadership looks like. Students can lead through mentorship, organization, creativity, service, or simply by showing up for others. That shift has made leadership more accessible than ever before.

In the past, leadership might have been tied to a title or a personality. Now, it’s tied to opportunity and to growth.

“We want every student to see themselves in someone else,” Brown-Davis says. “To realize, ‘I can do that.’”

That includes students whose talents might have gone unnoticed in previous systems. Brown-Davis recalls discovering students late in their senior year, gifted artists, skilled creators, natural leaders, and wondering where they had been all along. The goal now is to make sure those students are seen much earlier. And it’s working.

Freshmen today arrive on campus already connected to upperclassmen leaders, students who know their names, check in with them, and model what it means to belong.

“I’ve heard freshmen say, ‘A senior knows who I am,’” Heskett shares. “That’s powerful.”

It’s also transformative.

At a recent rally, a freshman who won a competition was met with cheers—not hesitation or indifference.

“That wouldn’t have happened before,” Brown-Davis says. “That’s culture shift.”

It’s a shift from isolation to connection. From leadership as a title to leadership as a shared responsibility. From isolated pockets of brotherhood to a campus-wide culture of belonging.

And while the progress is clear, both Brown-Davis and Heskett emphasize that this is just the beginning.

“We’re still early,” Brown-Davis says. “But what we’re seeing—the growth, the confidence, the ownership—it’s going to keep building.”

Each year, students are stepping more fully into leadership roles, taking greater ownership, and shaping the experience for those who come after them.

“These students are going to graduate having lived this system for four years,” Heskett says. “They’re going to carry it forward.”

At its core, this evolution reflects something deeper about De La Salle.

It’s not just about creating leaders—it’s about forming young men who understand their role in a community, who recognize the impact of their actions, and who are willing to step forward when it matters.

“If something needs to be done,” Brown-Davis says, “our students step up.”

That has always been true.

What’s changed is how many students now have the opportunity to do it—and how early that journey begins.

And in that shift, De La Salle continues to live out its mission: forming not just students, but leaders for life.