Why This Middle School Principal Memorizes Her Students’ Names

Belinda Averill offered a disclaimer at the start of our interview: If you put her on the spot, she might not be able to recognize and name all of the approximately 660 students at South Lake Middle School, where she’s been principal for a decade. But she could get darn close.

For Averill, learning the names of her entire student body isn’t some sort of pet project or memorization game. She believes there’s real value in principals getting to know their students in a way that feels authentic for everyone involved—that the effort changes the dynamic between administrators and students for the better.

“Relationships are my bread and butter,” Averill told me from Irvine, California, where South Lake (a Title I public school) is located. “My goal is that students don’t think of me as a scary principal.”

Averill’s approach—walking the halls, spending time in the cafeteria, making herself available for parents during drop-off and pick-up—has proven to be highly effective. In 2024, Averill was one of nine nationwide recipients of the Terrel H. Bell Award for Outstanding School Leadership, after which she was lauded by Irvine’s superintendent for having “strengthened the entire school community.”

I reached out to Averill to better understand her approach to leadership. During our conversation, she relayed the origins of her idea to learn all of her students’ names, passed along the strategies she’s employed to pull off that daunting task, and described the impact that a personal touch can have on school culture.

Finding Inspiration in Doing Things Differently

Before Averill became a principal, she was a special education teacher, then an assistant principal. Her tenure as an assistant principal was at an enormous high school—a student body of 2,000—“where it felt very hard to wrap your arms around the campus,” she said. Even though South Lake is a smaller school, Averill knew she was inheriting a tough job when she accepted the principal position. Her predecessor was considered a “legend,” she said, so she needed to prove herself while charting her own path.

During her first few years at South Lake, Averill considered a variety of ideas in service of doing what she couldn’t as assistant principal: wrap her arms around the campus. Then she participated in a Multi-Tiered System of Supports training titled “Know My Name, Face, and Story,” which was instrumental in helping her consider a new perspective and framework for her interactions with students.

“I thought about how kids don’t know each other’s names half the time,” Averill said. “If I want kids to feel seen and heard, I have to make sure I do my part so that they feel seen and heard, starting with learning their names.”

Beyond fostering a sense of belonging, Averill figured that learning students’ names would have other downstream effects, like improving engagement, which could lead to more thorough feedback from students about instructional practices. She was already heavily involved in her school’s day-to-day operations but dove in further.

Learning Names and Digging Deeper

Averill developed a number of schemas for retaining students’ names. At the beginning of each school year, she introduces herself to students during breaks and lunchtime. She gives special attention to the incoming seventh graders, since she tends to know the eighth graders’ names already. “I’m constantly moving,” she said. “It’s a lot of walking and going around.”

Averill doesn’t just introduce herself and call it a day—she makes a point of asking students to remind her of their names and keeps track of which students have siblings who’ve already passed through South Lake.

“I’m trying to do a lot of associations,” Averill said. “And through those associations, I’m like, ‘I know these three kids, and I may not know the fourth kid’s name, but I know who they hang out with, and I know what they’re interested in.’”

Averill clocks the lunchtime gatherings of kids: There’s a devoted crowd of Uno players, kids who live and breathe sports, kids who have their Chromebooks out for Minecraft-related purposes, and kids talking about the latest episode of The Last of Us. Averill talks to all of them, all the time.

“It’s not just about learning their names—and I do try my best to learn them all—it’s about learning what they’re interested in,” she said. Averill’s sincere curiosity and investment in her students hasn’t gone unnoticed. “Kids will come up and quiz me, like, ‘Do you know my name yet?’ It’s hysterical,” she said.

Why a Little Gesture Goes a Long Way

Averill’s drive to learn her students’ names is ultimately just one aspect of her outreach efforts. She believes students should be told that they’re loved, so she says that to them often. According to school surveys, 89 percent of South Lake students feel they have a trusted adult on campus. Averill is one such trusted adult, and she welcomes one-on-one conversations with students whenever they’re in need.

“Kids will come to me and want to talk to me,” Averill said. “There isn’t an admin wall between me and my students.” The open-door policy is something Averill inspires teachers to try: “My staff sees that I have a relationship with the kids,” she said. “I have the most amazing staff, and they’ve embraced this mindset as well.”

Averill mentioned an eighth-grade student who puts pressure on herself to succeed academically. Averill has been checking in with this student to make sure she’s following the social and emotional coping mechanisms they’ve discussed. The student recently went out of her way to thank Averill for encouraging her—a powerful affirmation for the middle school principal. Other students seem to have similarly fond feelings for their school staff: South Lake’s tally of chronically absent students dropped from 172 to 59 between 2023 and 2025.

In theory, lunch and breaks between classes would be optimal times for administrative meetings. But at South Lake, Averill prioritizes these slots as opportunities to talk with students. “My ed specialists are not going to schedule an IEP [individualized education program meeting] where I would miss lunch or break,” she said. “I don’t put meetings on calendars myself during those times.”

Averill understands that her leadership strategy requires flexibility. The benefit of being a constant presence in a school’s hallways and cafeteria is that staffers know where to find her—and she says she welcomes those interactions.

“I never get questioned about it,” she said. “My teachers don’t think I’m unavailable, and neither do my parents. Parents know where I am at pick-up and drop-off. I’ll always tell them, ‘I can walk and talk with you, no problem.’ I’m not going to be like, ‘Go schedule a meeting, and let’s find another time.’ Nope—let’s do it. That’s part of my visibility.”

Recently, there was a tragedy in the local community that had a profound impact on the South Lake campus. Averill and the rest of the staff banded together to provide support and resources for students and their families. They’re still doing so, in fact. But Averill was genuinely touched when a group of students—whom she affectionately described as “my tough, tough boys”—came up to her to ask if she was doing OK. It was a poignant reminder of the school culture that she and her staff try to instill.

“I wasn’t doing OK,” she said. “And they told me, ‘We’re going to be OK.’ It was just an amazing moment of kids feeling vulnerable enough to say that, and to have enough compassion to say it. And I feel like that’s what we’re trying to do here.”