Editor’s note: This post contains an image that includes a racial effigy.

Jennifer Lee and Kyev Tatum agree that Texas’ Black students do not receive the same academic support as their peers, that schools punish them unfairly and that recent state laws silence Black history and perspectives in the classroom.

But the two Black Texans sharply diverge on whether the state’s will make education in Texas better or worse for students who look like them.

Lee feels confident that vouchers, which allow families to use public funds for private school and home-schooling costs, will allow the state to drain money from a public school student population while benefiting and . That’s what she sees in other states with vouchers, often referred to as “school choice.”

“It’s impossible to research a school choice program and not come away understanding that it has been detrimental almost everywhere it’s touched,” Lee said.

Tatum, a Fort Worth pastor, believes vouchers will provide Black families who are frustrated by the shortcomings of public education the funding needed to build private schooling options.

“There’s not one person in the whole entire country who can look me in the eye and tell me that public schools have done right by Black kids,” Tatum said.

Texas families faced a to apply for vouchers, which will provide home-schoolers up to $2,000 per year, private school students $10,500 and children with disabilities up to $30,000. State leaders are now deciding which students will receive funding for the 2026-27 school year, pending their acceptance to a school. Of almost , 45% are white, 23% are Hispanic and 12% are Black.

As Texas prepares for its inaugural school year offering vouchers, Lee and Tatum’s opposing viewpoints on what it will mean for Black students differ as much as their perspectives on school vouchers’ discriminatory history in Texas. In 1957, Texas lawmakers proposed a voucher plan as part of a slate of bills introduced to avoid compliance with the landmark Supreme Court decision making it illegal for schools to separate children based on race.

Since that time, the Legislature has grown more racially and ethnically diverse, though it is still .

And Hispanic students now make up the majority of public school students, surpassing white students in enrollment. Yet no other racial or ethnic group lags further behind their school peers than Black children, who make up 13% of Texas students but and .

When today’s Republicans pitched school vouchers, they promoted them as a state-funded option for families to escape the boundaries of their local school districts. The movement achieved its crowning moment after Gov. Greg Abbott and his campaigned against House Republicans who opposed vouchers, helping elect new lawmakers who voted for the program.

“Gone are the days that families are limited to only the school assigned by government,” Abbott said moments before signing the voucher legislation. “The day has arrived that empowers parents to choose the school that’s best for their child.”

Vouchers became Texas law in an era when Republicans say diversity efforts have shifted schools’ focus from core academics toward political activism. They believe such efforts have effectively given people of color preferential treatment.

In recent years, Texas lawmakers have also required public schools to teach about in ways that ensure white students do not feel guilt. Districts can for as long as considered necessary, a form of punishment against Black students. And campus leaders can when creating policies or making hiring decisions, despite evidence that Black educators for students.

“DEI agendas divide us rather than unite us and have no place in the state of Texas,” Abbott said in an banning diversity, equity and inclusion policies in state agencies. “These radical policies deviate from constitutional principles and deny diverse thought. Every Texan is equal under the law, including the state and federal Constitutions, both of which prohibit government discrimination based on race.”

Tatum is fed up. His support for vouchers is about rescuing as many Black kids as possible from public schools.

“What I’m saying is: Those who want to stay in the house and burn, stay in the house,” Tatum said. “But for those of us who don’t want to burn, open the door, allow me to leave, and give me my money so that I can give it to a house that’s not burning, but thriving.”

Lee worries vouchers will leave fewer resources for kids who remain in public schools. She also questions why Texas officials want anything to do with an initiative once proposed to derail Black children from equal opportunity.

“You might believe in parent choice and all of that,” Lee said. “But when you start talking about you, as a person, sitting in church on Sunday, are you really OK with saying, ‘Well, yeah, I do want segregation again’?”

“The best education is an investment”

Texas public schools receive funding based on student attendance, meaning they will lose money for every child who leaves to participate in the voucher program. In other states offering vouchers, a mass exodus of children leaving public schools for private options has not materialized. Still, critics worry the Texas program will grow in size and cost. And if future cuts are needed, they worry political leaders will trim public school budgets first.

Lee, a former public school teacher and a 2024 Democratic candidate for the Texas House, acknowledges public education has a long way to go in helping Black students grow and thrive in the classroom.

Majority-Black schools are more than as majority-white schools to receive a D or F in Texas’ academic ratings. On state tests, Black students of all racial and ethnic groups. Aside from , Black students all other Texans on national exams, too. They graduate at the and drop out at .

But Lee contends that such inequities do not emerge by accident. It starts, she said, with inadequate resources.

“Our country has demonstrated that time and time again, we believe that the best education is an investment,” Lee said. “Private schools cost ridiculous amounts of money because parents believe that education is an investment.”

In 2023, Abbott said he would not sign sweeping education funding legislation if it excluded a voucher program. When , public schools lost out on billions that could have benefited students. The 2025 legislative session marked the that Texas lawmakers increased across-the-board money for public education.

Hundreds of districts approved budget deficits over that time. They increased class sizes, cut staffing and closed schools to save money. Last year’s nearly boost still fell billions short of catching them up with inflation. Meanwhile, Texas in average teacher salary and per-student spending, respectively, according to the National Education Association.

Public education advocates acknowledge that funding is not the only reason for — or answer to — Texas’ academic shortcomings, especially for Black students who have suffered through resistance to integration, the elimination of Black educators and unequal access to quality facilities and learning materials. And Lee thinks state laws clamping down on initiatives that promote diversity exacerbate negative academic outcomes.

But the advocates see funding as the foundation.

“Teachers are being asked to do so much with so little and then being mocked because they couldn’t quite get there,” Lee said.

Private schools typically face no requirements to accept students who live in their community or make learning arrangements for children with disabilities.

On the contrary, traditional public schools generally do not charge tuition or set admission requirements. They welcome different faiths and religions. They teach students who speak different languages. They accommodate students with disabilities. They offer free lunch, health care and laundry.

In other words, public schools are a public good worth preserving, said Michael McFarland, superintendent of the Crowley Independent School District, a majority-Black school system in North Texas.

“You’re still going to have the masses of children in the public institution,” McFarland said. “If the public institution is no longer serving the public good, then it creates a definite challenge for our country, a challenge for our city and our state.”

When states expand voucher access to include virtually any school-age child like Texas has, tend to benefit most. Lee fears the children of white and wealthy Texans will graduate from well-funded private schools while public school students will graduate from scraps.

“What’s going to happen is that we’re going to see a lot of Black and brown children who have schools that are broken down, very few resources, and basically feeding that pre-K to prison pipeline,” Lee said.

She refuses to allow her 9-year-old son, Brock, to grow up in a bubble where he interacts only with children of the same belief system and social class. If Brock is expected to thrive in the real world, Lee said, she wants him educated in a setting that closely resembles that world. Public schools work, she insists, because they teach children “how to be a human.”

“When we start siloing ourselves and saying, ‘I only want to be around white, straight Christians,’” Lee said, “then suddenly everyone else who doesn’t fit into that category, they’re not people, they’re problems, they’re things, they’re other.”

“They don’t love us back” 

Before Brown v. Board of Education, Black schools suffered from inadequate funding, outdated textbooks and crumbling buildings. Even so, highly credentialed led those institutions, and they nurtured Black children while holding them to high expectations. Students those heightened standards.

But in newly integrated schools after the Supreme Court’s 1954 ruling in Brown, many white leaders deemed Black teachers and administrators unfit, demoting them, firing them or forcing their resignation. So while Black and white students began attending the same schools, Black educators became rare.

“You had a system where Blacks wanted kids to do well,” said Tatum, who argues that Texas’ current teachers and administrators resent Black students’ culture and achievements.

“You don’t protect what you do not respect,” Tatum added. “Since Brown, we’ve tried to love them, but they don’t love us back.”

A civil rights activist who founded and previously ran a charter school, Tatum is the one Black families call when public schools have wronged their children. One teacher multiple times during a class presentation, another into a child’s mouth. Black trauma pushed Tatum to a stark conclusion: Public schools have a culture problem.

The Texas Legislature could grant school districts access to all the money in the world, Tatum insists, but additional funding will not change school leaders who for sporting locs or who for celebrating hip-hop. In the Fort Worth Independent School District, a majority Hispanic and Black district in Tatum’s hometown, only one-third of students are testing on grade level.

“Let’s be real,” Tatum said. “These kids have been traumatized in these inner-city communities, in schools.”

In Tatum’s vision, Black churches will open small schools. Black teachers will lead instruction. Students will celebrate Juneteenth and learn to read. Administrators, by fostering a nurturing learning institution, will kill the school-to-prison pipeline.

At that point, voucher advocates say, Black communities will have used the environment of “education freedom” to their advantage, reclaiming their students and prioritizing their values.

“And that’s what we should do — first of all, because Black people have never been served well by the public education system,” said Denisha Allen, executive director of Black Minds Matter, a national organization advocating to improve academic outcomes for Black children.

Noliwe Rooks, an Africana studies professor at Brown University, wrote a book detailing how resistance to integration decimated Black school systems and subjected many Black students to discrimination and violence from their white peers.

Rooks agrees that many Black students today still lack the support they enjoyed in schools before the Brown decision.

However, she also noted that building Black schools without deep knowledge of how to manage finances, how to develop curricula and teach, and how to assist students with varying disabilities will create similar challenges that plague other schools. Black communities possessed that knowledge during segregation, Rooks said, which is why “losing the infrastructure for Black education matters.”

“Just having some Black people say, ‘I’m going to start a school for Black kids,’ has not worked,” Rooks said. Vouchers, she added, are also not the fix.

“It further exacerbates what’s broken,” Rooks said. “The problem is the education system — the idea of it as a public good, as something that’s supposed to be shared, that’s a national priority — that’s what’s broken.”

But Tatum has heard those arguments before. The grandfather of 15 does not get consumed with the “philosophical” — how he describes evidence that voucher programs tend to benefit wealthy white families, do not significantly improve learning and were once proposed by segregationist white lawmakers trying to undermine integration.

In his mind, nothing is worse than the trauma Black families have experienced in public schools or the fact that too many students in his hometown of Fort Worth cannot sufficiently read.

Tatum views the real problem as Texas forcing Black children to exist in a toxic educational environment. If Black families want to use state resources to exert more control over their kids’ education, he said, they deserve an opportunity to do so.

“You can get philosophical with me. You can get theological with me,” Tatum said. “But I’m trying to get practical with everyone.” 

“Same song, different verse”

Voucher programs, where almost all school-age children qualify, have only existed since 2022. In the , vouchers primarily served limited groups, such as low-income students and students with disabilities.

show that vouchers increase the likelihood that students graduate high school and go to college, while others conclude that they lead to small improvements in public schools. Meanwhile, some research also shows students for public schools at high rates. And while older studies demonstrate mixed effects on test scores, research in the past decade shows vouchers leading to .

Despite evidence that vouchers can harm test scores — the primary metric Texas leaders use to judge public schools — advocates are standing their ground. Andrew Mahaleris, a spokesperson for Abbott, said the governor believes the program will unlock new opportunities for students to grow.

“An overwhelming majority of Texans from all walks of life support expanding school choice to all Texas families — including minorities, Republicans, Democrats, independents, and people across rural Texas,” Mahaleris said. “Texas is on a pathway to becoming number one in education, and the passage of school choice is an unprecedented victory for Texas families, students, and the future of our great state.”

The will launch at the start of the 2026-27 school year. Almost 275,000 students applied — demand that exceeded available funding. In a state where about 53% of public school students are Hispanic and 13% are Black, nearly half of voucher applicants are white and 75% previously attended a private school or home school.

To divide the money, Texas will consider the applications of students with disabilities and low-income families first, though students are not fully approved until accepted to a private school. Families have more than 2,200 voucher-approved private schools to pick from, and those schools have the power to accept or deny students as they see fit.

Fears that the program will create two tiers of publicly funded education date back to the 1950s. Two years after the Brown decision, candidates in the Texas gubernatorial race of Black and white children learning together. In a Texas Democratic primary, several hundred thousand voters for school segregation. White Texans Black families, hanging dolls that resembled Black students being lynched.

that advocated for vouchers, a state legislative subcommittee wrote: “While showing great concern for the effect of segregation on the psyches of negro children, the Court neglected to display any concern whatsoever for the effect of integration on Southern white children and their parents.”

In 1957, lawmakers passed bills authorizing the attorney general to in desegregation lawsuits and allowing the governor to where federal troops showed up to enforce integration. A voucher bill, passed by the Texas House, would have to families who pulled children out of integrated schools. When the bill moved to the Senate, a small group prevented passage with the help of a .

One of the opposing senators was Henry B. Gonzalez, whose son Charlie Gonzalez, a former U.S. representative, sees vouchers as a choice to divest from a state education system that serves mostly students of color while propping up majority-white private schools.

“I always say it’s the same song, different verse,” Charlie Gonzalez said.

“To me, it really is about segregation. It really is resisting diversity,” he added. “Am I wrong? I don’t think so. I don’t think my dad was wrong in 1957. I don’t think I’m wrong today.”

“We can do both”

Lee and Tatum may never find out if the voucher program worsens or improves long-term academic outcomes for Black children because participating schools are not required to administer the same tests as public schools.

Voucher supporters argue instead that parent satisfaction will determine success.

In defending the program during the 2025 legislative session, Rep. Brad Buckley and former Sen. Brandon Creighton expressed confidence that vouchers would not harm public schools or promote discrimination.

“In harmony, we can lift up our public schools and our public school teachers like never before in historic ways, and we can provide education opportunities that fit the needs and are customized for our individual Texas students,” Creighton said during a Senate debate. “We can do both of those at the same time. Those aren’t warring provisions or concepts unless we allow stakeholders to manufacture a narrative that supports such a division, such chaos, such a lack of harmony.”

The two Republicans, who co-sponsored the voucher legislation, did not respond to requests for comment. The Texas comptroller’s office, which oversees the program, declined to comment.

On the fifth day of Black History Month last year, Sen. Borris Miles occupied the same floor where Henry B. Gonzalez and Abraham “Chick” Kazen Jr. filibustered seven decades before.

Miles, a Houston Democrat who is Black, reminded colleagues that Southern states proposed school vouchers to avoid integration. He reminded them that states defunded and closed Black schools. He warned that if it happened then, it will happen again.

“I’m sure that history is going to show that this body has created a separate but unequal education structural system and made it law,” Miles said, “made it law by sacrificing the masses for the very few.”

This first appeared on .

The historic investment in growing the teacher workforce, with an emphasis on male educators, is part of a number of initiatives Moore’s Democratic administration is taking to address the crisis of young men and boys in his state. He previously created Maryland’s Young Men and Boys Initiative within the Governor’s Office of Children to focus on mentorship, educational support and community resources that combat systemic disadvantages. 

An objective study of the state of mental health, education and employment of men and boys in America would lead to only one conclusion: they are in a state of crisis. Nationally, two-thirds of those in the top 10% of high school classes are young women, while young men make up two-thirds of the bottom 10%.

In Maryland, boys scored 11 points lower than girls on the National Assessment of Educational Progress’s Grade 8 reading assessments, one of the largest gaps in the nation. Boys in Maryland remain behind throughout high school as only 82.6% graduate high school compared to 88.8% for girls.

For those young men who do graduate from high school, fewer and fewer are choosing to attend college. That choice is having a detrimental impact on young men. According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, one-third of young men with only a high school degree are out of the labor force. 

America needs more teachers, but the crisis among men and boys highlights how much America needs more male teachers, in particular. Nationally, men account for just 23% of teachers, down from 33% a generation ago. Similarly, in Maryland less than one in four teachers are men. The : Male educators influence student discipline, engagement, expectations, and academic outcomes for all students, but especially for boys. 

That’s why the is helping launch the Male Educator Network (MEN), which will answer the call of elected officials at the local, state, and federal level looking for policy solutions to the growing shortage of male educators. MEN will also give the over 700,000 current and future male teachers in America the first national association dedicated solely to their long-term success from high school, through college, to graduate school, and throughout their career in education. 

Already a bi-partisan group of governors is raising awareness about how young men and boys are struggling to show up in their schools, homes, workplaces, and communities. That includes ensuring young men and boys are not negatively impacted by the shortage of male teachers. 

In response to the growing crisis of mental health among young men and boys in California, Democratic Gov. Gavin Newsom last year issued an executive order directing state agencies to boost male recruitment in education and expand mentorship opportunities. Recently, California invested over $2 million in a marketing campaign to attract men to join the teacher workforce. 

In Michigan, Democratic Gov. Gretchen Whitmer signed an executive directive to boost male enrollment in post-secondary education and vocational training, including teacher apprenticeships. Michigan is taking a comprehensive approach with its Michigan Educator Workforce Initiative, which helps provide full financial support including tuition and fees to future teachers while enabling them to earn an income through a registered apprenticeship program. 

In Utah, Republican Gov. Spencer Cox raised the alarm nearly three years ago when he established the Task Force on the Wellbeing of Men and Boys. The task force was created to propose and implement policy solutions centered on addressing mental health, workforce and education. 

In Connecticut, Democratic Gov. Ned Lamont took time out of his 2025 State of the State address to challenge his legislature: “Here is a DEI initiative, which folks on both sides of the aisle may appreciate. We’re doing outreach to get more men into teaching. Statistically, boys are most likely to be the disconnected youth. A few more male mentors in the classroom – and coaching – just might help. What say you, Education Committee?” State policymakers in Virginia and Washington have also introduced bills this session to study the state of men and boys and respond with policy solutions. , a bi-partisan group of lawmakers in Virginia passed SB447, establishing an advisory commission for men and boys. The commission is responsible for issuing annual reports with legislative recommendations. In Washington, a bill to establish a commission was voted out of committee but did not move forward as it failed to receive a public hearing by the cutoff date for the fifth year in a row.

The growing interest in the crisis of men and boys is incredibly important but not enough. Interest and attention must be matched with timely, research-based, policy and budgetary solutions focused not only on recruitment but retention of male educators. Far too many male teachers leave the profession each year, many due to isolation and lack of support from other men in education. Male educators need one another to not only address the growing demands of being a teacher, but also to access the training and network to move up in the profession. That’s what the Male Educator Network can bring.

Focusing on men and boys should not distract us from the plight of women and girls. We can do both. We can’t have a world of thriving women in a world of struggling men. Male teachers don’t only serve young men and boys, their presence improves the lives of all students.

But rhetoric alone does not produce impact. Progressive intent is not the same as progressive design or progressive results.

After years inside the nation’s largest school system, helping build improvement strategies and working with families who have rarely experienced the benefits of reform, I believe the mayor’s education plan is strong on aspiration but thin in two areas that determine whether equity becomes reality: a clear framework for communities to shape policy and the system’s capacity to move reforms into practice.

Mamdani is right to speak urgently about expanding opportunity and addressing racial disparities in achievement and discipline. But without a design process rooted in Black and brown students’ experiences, and without the operational strength to turn vision into daily action, New York risks repeating a familiar cycle. The city has produced many equity plans – some I’ve helped craft – that were bold on paper but failed to change the lived realities of the children they targeted.

For decades, New York City has produced reforms for communities rather than with them. Mamdani wants to change that. He describes a future where families, students and educators help shape the policies that govern their lives. But valuing co-creation and building the infrastructure for it are two different tasks. That gap is where his plan is most hazy.

His platform does not yet outline a concrete process for shared design. What does engagement beyond listening sessions look like in a system this large? How will students and families, especially those most affected by inequities, help shape solutions, not just identify problems? These questions remain unanswered.

This absence of structure is not hypothetical. In 2019, the city attempted a more collaborative model through the Imagine NYC Schools initiative, a call for students, families and educators to redesign existing schools and imagine new ones. I was deeply involved in its creation and implementation. It demonstrated that meaningful community design is possible.

But Covid-19 and institutional challenges stalled progress, and the city lacked the long-term supports needed to sustain it across crises and leadership transitions. The lesson was clear: Co-design succeeds only with sustained investment, careful scaffolding and continuity that outlasts political cycles.

Mamdani’s plan does not yet include those commitments. It references student voice but does not require schools to establish student design teams with real authority. It encourages family engagement but does not build mechanisms that allow families, particularly Black and brown families historically marginalized, to shape how equity efforts unfold at the school level. Nor does it commit to updating initiatives based on continuous community feedback.

When communities are excluded from design, schools often reproduce the very conditions they aim to change. Interventions miss cultural complexities. Strategies misread disengagement. Metrics track what is convenient instead of what matters. Designing with the community, not for it, creates structured partnership with those who understand inequity from lived experience. Mamdani has named this value, but he has not yet built the durable process to realize it.

The Implementation Gap Leaders Overlook

Even if Mamdani’s plan were perfectly designed, another challenge remains: What happens when bold vision meets operational reality?

Many reforms fail not because they are misguided but because they lack viable implementation. School systems are complex ecosystems; change in one area creates ripple effects everywhere else. Black and brown students — already navigating inconsistent instruction, resource instability and high staff turnover – are the first to feel the consequences when reforms move faster than the system can absorb them.

Mamdani speaks extensively about vision. He rarely addresses capacity.

Who will train more than 1,600 principals and tens of thousands of teachers to implement these shifts? Who will modernize data systems so inequities are tracked accurately? Who will prevent new initiatives from piling onto unfinished ones, creating reform fatigue that destabilizes schools already under pressure?

An equity agenda without an implementation strategy remains aspirational. The cost of weak execution is not symbolic. It appears in teacher turnover (an issue Mamdani has pledged to address), inconsistent instructional quality and widening trust gaps between schools and families. These conditions disproportionately harm Black and Brown students regardless of ideology.

New York needs more than bold leadership. It needs leadership grounded in proximity to the students and families who live with policy consequences. Trust is earned when leaders treat communities as partners and designers rather than recipients of reform.

Mamdani can move in that direction by requiring major reforms to undergo equity audits led by students, families and educators from the communities most affected. He can also invest in developing more Black and Brown school leaders, who are essential to translating policy into the daily rhythms of classrooms.

None of this work is glamorous. It will not generate headline-ready accomplishments in the first hundred days. But it is the only path to lasting change.

The election of a progressive mayor has raised expectations. But New Yorkers should not assume that the right values automatically produce the right outcomes.

If Mamdani wants his legacy to be more than moral clarity, he must pair vision with structure. That might include:

• Establishing permanent, school-based community design councils with real decision-making authority, not just advisory status.
• Piloting major reforms with a small group of schools before scaling citywide, allowing communities to shape implementation in real time.
• Expanding funding for neighborhood-based partnerships with trusted community organizations to anchor reforms beyond political cycles and sustain accountability.

His selection of New York City Public Schools veteran Kamar Samuels as chancellor is a promising step. Samuels brings credibility and lived experience that could help bridge the gap between City Hall and school communities. But even strong leadership must be supported by systems that distribute power, build capacity and institutionalize feedback.

Black and brown students have waited long enough for promises to become practice. In this climate, the city cannot afford to get this wrong again.

When I was a principal, over 200 Black and Brown boys saw me walking the halls of their elementary school every day. For many of them, I was one of the few Black male leaders they saw daily in positions of authority. That representation mattered. 

Those daily hallway interactions reminded me why representation in education is truly transformational. Unfortunately, it is also rare. The number of Black male educators in this country remains and principals making hiring decisions must work strategically to reverse that trend.

Nationwide, just in 2020-21 were Black males, compared with 6.5% three years before. Amid widespread concern about the national teacher shortage, it is critically important to pay attention not only to how many educators schools recruit, but to who America’s students see standing in the front of the classroom. 

Why does it matter? The dropout rates from high school for Black male students after an encounter with a single Black male educator and their college aspirations increase by 19%. Another that the graduation rate among Black students increased by 33% when they had a Black teacher between third and fifth grade. Representation is not a feel-good talking point. It is a measurable intervention.

Black boys have historically had lower academic outcomes than other demographics and drop out at higher rates in middle and high school. The research is clear: , responsive teaching practices can ensure that Black boys stay connected to their school community and receive instruction that affirms their identity. But those practices are only as powerful as the educators who bring them to life.

Teachers who share aspects of their students’ experiences can build trust quickly, recognize coded language or cultural nuances others might miss and challenge harmful stereotypes simply by standing in positions of authority. Their presence disrupts deficit narratives. Children in the nation’s schools deserve to see examples of leadership, intellect and excellence that reflect who they are.

My journey as an educator began at Morehouse College, where I mentored young children on Saturdays. I quickly fell  in love with working with students. Many of the Black boys I tutored lacked foundational literacy and math skills that would give them access to higher education and, eventually, careers of their choice. They didn’t lack potential; they lacked access and urgency. It was clear to me that they had been robbed of a civil right — the right to a quality education. For me, this was a cause worth fighting for.

When I had the opportunity during my junior and senior years to participate in a summer teaching fellowship through Uncommon Schools in New York City, I jumped at the chance. I arrived at Uncommon Schools Excellence Boys in summer 2011. I never imagined my five-year plan would include leading a school, but a mentor at Uncommon Schools saw something in me that I didn’t.

The work is challenging, but also rewarding. When students start the school year reading below grade level and are caught up within a matter of weeks, I know I’m having an impact. My legacy will not be a title, such as principal or superintendent — it will be seeing those children graduate from college and lead fulfilling lives. And I know I am not alone. Across our network, many Black male educators are quietly changing trajectories every single day.

At Uncommon Schools, 12% of teachers are Black males — far above the national average. That did not happen by accident. It required intentional recruitment and intentional retention.

On. Feb. 6, I co-led the third Uncommon Male Educator Summit in Brooklyn, where more than 140 Black male teachers, deans of instruction, operations directors, and superintendents came together for a professional development and community-building. This was not just a networking event. We shared classroom strategies, discussed how to maintain high expectations without being automatically cast as disciplinarians and built the kind of professional brotherhood that strengthens retention. When educators feel supported, they stay. When they stay, students benefit from continuity, mentorship and stability.

Nationwide, though, Black males make up only 1.3% of educators. That’s a stark number. But the solutions are clear. 

First, school leaders need to work harder to recruit prospective Black male teachers in colleges, especially Historically Black Colleges and Universities, which already produce in the country. Many of my colleagues are HBCU graduates who felt called to teaching because they wanted to bring Black excellence into classrooms.

Second, principals must invest in retention. Professional development designed for Black male educators to share experiences and build community is essential. As one colleague said, “this journey requires brotherhood.” Isolation drives attrition. Community drives commitment.

Third, school leaders should avoid automatically assigning disciplinarian roles to Black male educators. While we can and do set strong boundaries, our value extends far beyond behavior management. Research shows that Black male educators serve as and academic role models. They must be allowed to be instructional leaders, curriculum designers and culture builders — not just enforcers.

This conversation is not about exclusion. It is about expanding who stands at the front of America’s classrooms so all children see possibility reflected back at them.

I think about the hundreds of boys who saw me in the hallway each morning. For some, that daily interaction planted a seed — that leadership, scholarship and authority could look like them. That is not symbolic. It is life-altering.

It’s in the classroom where dreams take flight, and students can’t become what they can’t see. Black male students deserve to see someone like them, who inspires and leads. Only then will educators succeed in ensuring that Black boys soar academically and become the leaders of tomorrow. 

It’s a simple question, one that adults often ask of children. But as a co-founder of a bookstore in Pittsburgh, I know that Obama’s gift, coupled with his question, could be life-changing for those students. 

Books can be powerful tools for dreaming. When I was a graduate student, I spent many hours on the phone with my grandfather talking about life. I vividly remember him telling me he didn’t know much about the world I was experiencing in graduate school; I would have to figure it out for myself.

I turned to biographies, autobiographies and memoirs of people I admired, of people who pursued big dreams, overcame big and small barriers, and sought to make this world better — because that is what I wanted to do. 

Many years later, I stumbled on picture book biographies with my young sons. One day, when we were at our local library, my oldest son grabbed a book titled Preaching to Chickens off the library shelf. He and his younger brother had a running joke about chickens; they would say “chicken” to every question I asked them. So, of course, this book caught his eye.

I’d had my fill of chicken jokes, so I told them it was off limits. Then, my youngest son began crying, and like all fathers in public libraries, I folded. We checked the book out. It was about how future congressman John Lewis would make speeches to chickens as a child and imagine they were people. It gave me so much insight into the childhood of the Civil Rights Movement giant and taught me a lesson too: that sometimes, when children play, it can be a dress rehearsal for the person they will become.

From that moment, I realized that picture book biographies can be powerful tools for helping Black children imagine their future selves, overcome personal barriers, navigate big emotions, even use their talents to make the world a better place. 

The book , for example, reveals how James Earl Jones’ childhood stutter left him silent in school, until a caring teacher inspired him to write a poem and perform it in class. Presenting the poem out loud inspired him to take on acting, for which he became famous. His platinum voice became the gold standard. Ode to Grapefruit is a powerful illustration of overcoming personal obstacles, a lesson that can inspire children going through their own struggles.  

As any parent knows, managing big emotions can be especially challenging for young children. In the book , author Valerie Bolling shows how Marian Wright Edelman used her frustration and disappointment over racial injustice to make the world a better place by founding the Children’s Defense Fund and the Freedom Schools initiative. For kids struggling with big emotions, this book can be a tool to help them convert those feelings into positive change.  

Finally, in her book , Lisa Brathwaite writes about how fashion icon and entrepreneur Eunice Johnson used her exceptional fashion sense to found Ebony Magazine, which serves as an inspiration for Black women and continues to spark the imagination of Black people across the country. In addition to creating the magazine, Johnson founded the Ebony Fashion Show, which traveled to 66 cities across the United States from 1958 to 2009 to raise money for philanthropic causes. It’s an enduring lesson for children about how to use their talents to impact their community in big and small ways. 

For me, picture book biographies are not cradle-to-greatness stories for kids. Rather, they’re��tools to inspire children to pursue their dreams. This holiday season, as you think about the young people in your lives, perhaps consider a picture book biography, keep in mind Obama’s simple question. There’s no better time to encourage children to dream big.

The Trump administration says it will withhold some federal funding from Chicago Public Schools over an initiative to improve outcomes for Black students and guidelines allowing transgender students to play sports and use facilities based on the gender with which they identify.

Craig Trainor, the acting assistant secretary of civil rights in the U.S. Department of Education, saying his office has found CPS violated anti-discrimination laws and will lose grant dollars through the Magnet School Assistance Program. The district, with a budget of roughly $10.2 billion, has a five-year, $15 million Magnet Schools Assistance Program grant it received last year.

The feds are demanding that the district abolish and issue a statement saying it will require students to compete in sports or use locker rooms and bathroom facilities based on their biological sex at birth, among other demands.

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However, Illinois law conflicts on both fronts, putting CPS in a difficult position. The state that outlines compliance with the Illinois Human Rights Law, including that schools must allow transgender students access to facilities that correspond to their gender identity. Separately, an Illinois law passed in 2024 and plan for serving Black students.

Chicago Public Schools said Wednesday in an emailed statement that it “does not comment on ongoing investigations.” Previously, its leaders have said that the Black Students Success Plan is a priority to address longstanding academic and discipline disparities that Black students face. They have in defiance of the Trump administration’s crackdown on race-based initiatives.

Chicago Mayor Brandon Johnson said earlier this year that if it takes federal funding away from CPS because of the district’s diversity, equity, and inclusion efforts. His office also did not immediately respond to a request for comment.

In response to earlier this year, the Education Department’s Office for Civil Rights opened an investigation into the Black Student Success Plan, which sets goals to double the number of male Black teachers, reduce Black student suspensions, and teach Black history in more classrooms. Trainor said in his department’s interpretation, the initiative runs afoul of a U.S. Supreme Court decision last year banning the consideration of race in college admissions by offering added support to Black students and teachers exclusively.

“This is textbook racial discrimination, and no justification proffered by CPS can overcome the patent illegality of its racially exclusionary plan,” he wrote.

The OCR also of CPS, the Illinois State Board of Education, and suburban Deerfield Public School District 109 to look into their policies on transgender students using facilities and participating in school sports. Trainor said Chicago’s Guidelines Regarding the Support of Transgender and Gender Nonconforming Students violate Title IX, the federal law that prohibits discrimination on the basis of sex in education.

District officials told Chalkbeat recently that the members of a new school board Black Student Achievement Committee tasked with overseeing the plan’s rollout will be unveiled later this month.

Stacy Davis Gates, the president of the Chicago Teachers Union, issued a statement decrying the federal move to withhold funds from CPS and saying the district will stay the course.

“We will not back down,” she said in the statement. “We will not apologize. Our duty is to our students, and no amount of political bullying will shake our commitment to them.”

Chalkbeat is a nonprofit news site covering educational change in public schools.

“The Cost of Equity: Exploring Recent K-12 Federal and State Funding Shifts and Their Impact on Black Students,” examines how changes in legislative and policy could impact California’s school systems, which enroll more than 287,000 Black students.  

Now, important programs covering a gamut of services used by Black students, ranging from tutoring to transportation to counseling, could be cut, the report says.

The , which was edited by USC Rossier School of Education Professor Kendrick Davis and published by Rossier’s , lands at a critical time for budgeting decisions in California and elsewhere.

Shifts in federal, state and local funding and policy are prompting changes in districts across the state, Davis said in a recent interview.  

Those developments could exacerbate long-standing inequities — in low income, he said.

“It feels like so many reasons why education should be, and currently is, front and center in a lot of the local, statewide and national conversation,” said Davis. “But when there’s drastic changes happening … information and perspective can get lost.” 

Here are some key takeaways from Davis’s study, which was written with graduate researchers from Rossier’s Black Student Collective and is the first in a to be published by the Critical Policy Institute. 

1. School Funding In California Stands at a Crossroads��

Federal funding cuts, including the expiration of pandemic relief, have combined with dropping enrollments and shrinking tax bases to cut budgets for local school districts across California, with districts in other states across the country .

School systems such as Los Angeles Unified have already about what to prioritize in the face of looming cuts, and how those choices play out could have an outsize impact on Black kids, said Davis.     

2. How the State Counts Students Will Impact Local Funding��

California currently allocates state funding for local districts based on average daily attendance, giving school districts their share of per-pupil funding based on how many students on average showed up at class.  

That money typically accounts for more than a third of a local district’s budget. The state is now to the way that funding is shared, so that money will be allocated based on how many kids are enrolled in each district, instead of how many attended class. 

It’ll cost the state more to fund schools this way, Davis said, but more of the money will go to districts with schools serving vulnerable populations, like Black kids, who have higher rates of chronic absenteeism and lower graduation rates.     

3. Programs For Black Students Are Threatened by Federal Changes�� ��

Even before President Donald Trump Took office, ushering in a slew of new changes, programs for Black students were already under scrutiny in districts across California after LAUSD overhauled its signature effort for those students in response to new federal guidance. 

Now, new policies at the federal level, including threats to cut funding to diversity, equity and inclusion programs, present fresh legal and regulatory challenges for efforts to reach Black kids with effective services, said Davis. 

“It makes an already precarious situation worse,” he said. 

That includes examining the intellectual and cultural foundations of the holiday: the people, places and events that often get overlooked or erased in social studies curriculums.

Juneteenth, the federal holiday in American history, holds special significance for many educators as it was championed by one of their own. , a former teacher — well into her nineties — led the charge for national recognition. While many schools across the country are off on June 19 in observance, the reason why is not as often taught, says Knowles.

Knowles, CEO and founder of the educational consulting firm Teach Heal Build, focuses on creating culturally affirming classrooms and communities. In April, he published the latest installment in the BOLDLY BLACK workbook series “Mathematics and Science in Ancient Africa.” The set was designed for third graders to explore topical principles and practices tied to Black culture — offering lessons they may not encounter in a traditional school setting.

Ahead of this year’s Juneteenth holiday, ����Ӱ��’s Trinity Alicia spoke with Knowles about what’s shifting in social studies instruction — particularly in Florida, the power of culturally responsive curriculums in today’s political climate and what motivates him in today’s sociopolitical climate.

This interview has been edited for clarity and length.

����Ӱ��: This year marks the 160th anniversary of Juneteenth, but it’s only been recognized as a federal holiday since 2021. Why is it so important, from an educator’s perspective, that Juneteenth became a national holiday?  

Juneteenth allows both teachers and students to explore some of the deeper, more despondent areas of American history that are often avoided. It helps us step outside traditional narratives and unpack the multiple perspectives and experiences that different people, particularly within the African-American and African diaspora communities, have had throughout American history. In this way, it gives students a chance to better understand the ongoing process of freedom.   

For example, Juneteenth is often seen as the definitive end of slavery, but that’s an oversimplification. In reality, it represents a moment in a much longer and more complex journey toward emancipation. This perspective encourages both teachers and students to engage with history in a more nuanced and meaningful way. 

It was also, for almost as many years, largely left untaught in schools. What impact does that have on America’s students and our society as a whole?  

Having been in education for almost two decades, I’ve seen that when we don’t talk about important historical events — like those highlighted and signified by Juneteenth — we miss the opportunity to open up meaningful conversations in the classroom.   

I’ve witnessed how this silence can lead to the creation of a generation of students who are apathetic, especially when it comes to social justice and socio-economic issues that disproportionately impact marginalized communities. However, when we engage with authentic stories and histories, it gives students the chance to develop empathy, compassion and a broader understanding of others’ experiences. This helps create more open-minded individuals who are better equipped to contribute positively to the diverse society we live in today. 

An educator named Opal Lee, known to be “the grandmother of Juneteenth” was a key advocate for the national recognition of the holiday. What significance does this hold for you knowing a fellow teacher led that charge?

Within the framework of American capitalism, we often fail to give educators the honor, respect and homage they truly deserve. Educators are the ones who mold the minds of our children — they have the power and potential to shape not only students’ academic paths but also their overall life trajectories. When educators are empowered to lead conversations about topics like Juneteenth — and when we recognize that the push to make Juneteenth a national holiday was led by an educator — it highlights the strength and influence we possess as a profession.   

It shows that our impact extends far beyond the walls of the classroom and can resonate throughout society as a whole. We have the ability to unlock the minds of the next generation and to use our knowledge, especially historical knowledge, as a powerful tool for change. By doing so, we not only inspire other educators but also challenge our country to examine all aspects of its past — even the ones that don’t neatly fit the traditional narrative of American history.  

Ilyasah Shabazz, daughter of human and civil rights activist Malcolm X, over 10 years ago on Juneteenth, “We’re in denial of the African holocaust.” Malcolm X would’ve been 100 years old last month, and we’re also 60 years from his assassination. On this Juneteenth, what do you want students to remember most about Malcolm X that they might not get from learning about other civil rights activists?  

As we celebrate Juneteenth this year, we must also reflect on civil rights activists beyond the immediate historical context of the holiday — especially when you think about figures like Malcolm X, who are usually misunderstood. His ideals and philosophy were labeled radical when taking a look at what he’s done overall for American history and the Black community in terms of uncovering darker truths as well as the denial of the American government and the experiences of African-Americans.

We live in a landscape right now and we’re told to move on and forget about those things we’re literally still dealing with as a community, but Malcolm X would want us to continue to advocate for our people and our students to be able to share our authentic experiences. And some of those experiences weren’t happy and joyous. But they have perpetrated so much psychological violence, which continues to happen in the classroom. And it was Malcolm X who stated that “only a fool would allow his oppressors to educate his children.”  

What Juneteenth does within Black communities forces us to step up based on the sentiments that Malcolm X expressed within that quote to be able to affirm and be able to become more self-reliant when it comes to our economic issues and social issues. But when it comes to educational issues and being more responsible and more accountable for teaching our history, we’re no longer contingent on systems to be able to teach the truth and history in the United States. 

From the bans on AP African American History courses to the pushback against DEI policies in schools nationwide, how have you navigated this climate as an educator in Florida?

Florida is one of the most prominent hotspots for controversy in education and arguably an epicenter of these debates. We’ve seen significant pushback against inclusive and truthful historical narratives, and it forces educators in schools to sanitize history and continue to perpetuate a fairytale traditional narrative of American history. This sort of censorship disproportionately impacts social studies instruction, which creates a sense of frustration and a disconnect, which leads to a disengagement with students.   

Throughout my work in public education, I have continued to push back and resist by looking at some of our state standards and benchmarks when it comes specifically to social studies and ensuring that I can tie in our stories and tie in those things that people label “controversial” or “political.” I have weaponized the language itself and weaponized some of the state standards so we can continue to tell our stories unredacted. 

Why is it important that Black parents, teachers and administrators are well represented in the decision-making process for schools?

One of the aspects of American history I don’t think that we unpack enough as a community is just some of the deleterious impacts that integration had within the Black community. A lot of the institutions, specifically the educational institution after integration, was absorbed by the dominant, more prevalent society. 

It is important, even within the current state of the system we’re in, that our voices are heard, our perspectives are heard especially when it comes to policies, processes, practices and procedures in education. Those who live in the community can have better, more viable solutions to some of the issues that we contend with within a community. I’ve seen processes within education when people outside of our community are making decisions, and those decisions are not necessarily meeting or accommodating the needs of the community. 

It is beyond critical that Black educators and educational leaders are given space to represent the issues and also the authentic, lived experiences and even some of the cultural norms that exist within those communities so they can be in a position to represent and also advocate for the things that are needed within the Black community.

In your years as an educator and advocate, what surprises you the most about trends and interests among Black students now versus when you were a kid in America? Do Black students and educators come into school — and specifically social studies classes — thinking, “What’s the point?”

Many children, especially those who are informed, are becoming activists around current events tied to identity. Students who are becoming outspoken, specifically a lot of our student-led organizations such as like Black Student Unions, for example, are able to take charge against the racism and bigotry here in Florida and amplify their voices around some of the injustice that is taking place in curriculum, which essentially violates our First Amendment.

You just a new workbook for students, “BOLDLY BLACK: Science and Mathematics in Ancient Africa.” What do you hope to achieve by releasing this series?

Information is widely more available than it was during my high school era in the 1990s simply due to the digital age we live in today. Sometimes we look at technology as being a destructive force, but it influences me to maintain a working knowledge of it in order to effectively show students how to access the information that we couldn’t when we were their ages.

Part of my activism and my solution-based approaches to things we’re dealing with within the Black community, specifically regarding American history that focuses on our experiences, is creating [this] Afro-centric workbook series that is geared towards students from grades three through 12. My third grade title is “Mathematics and Science in Ancient Africa,” and my goal is creating a curriculum that is concise and also digestible within the hands of parents and also community members.

In states where legislation is trying to restrict what we can say and do within the classroom, communities — and specifically Black communities — need to start building their own infrastructures and using some of the space within the Black communities. For example, community centers and also churches are safe, liberating spaces that can be found in Black communities that teach our history. 

Community members and those who may not be experts in pedagogy and pedagogical approaches can pick this up and share this information with their children. Some of those gaps and things that may be missing within the public educational system are now within the hands of the community to be able to educate and affirm all our children.

Thinking about classrooms and curriculums across the country — what keeps you up at night, and what are you most hopeful for?

In this current climate, I have such hope and optimism. I understand that Black communities have gone through far worse. Our whole experience within just the United States even before it became the United States and colonial America has been turmoil. 

But us as Black people have had agency and power to resist the oppression and repression of our voices and our experiences as well as our humanity in this country in the most profound ways. We’ve found ways to resist, push back and also provide for ourselves in order to achieve self-sufficiency in many points within our history. 

I feel hopeful moving forward that even if a public educational space is under attack, we will start to create those liberating spaces in solidarity like we’ve done throughout history in order to rebuild those institutions and infrastructures that were either destabilized or lost through integration. 

Considering all of those variables, there is very little pessimism within me around the things that have taken place and very little fear because, as Kendrick Lamar , “we gon’ be alright.”

While the practice itself is troubling, I conducted reveals something even more troubling: Corporal punishment isn’t just disproportionately used on Black and gender-expansive students — those whose gender identity falls outside traditional norms — it’s also disproportionately condoned by the public when it’s used on these children.

I surveyed more than 600 Mississippi residents to understand their attitudes about school discipline. Most disapproved of corporal punishment in general, but that feeling weakened when the child being punished was Black or gender-nonconforming. In short: Who a child is imagined to be affects whether that child is believed to deserve protection — or punishment.

This finding echoes years of research and advocacy warning that corporal punishment is more than just an outdated disciplinary practice. It reveals deep-rooted inequities in America’s schools.

that physical punishment contributes to worse academic outcomes, higher dropout rates,and even increased involvement with the criminal justice system. The has linked it to long-term mental health impacts such as anxiety, depression and PTSD.

In Mississippi, Black students are far more likely to be physically punished than their white peers. A key reason is a well-documented bias called — the perception that Black children are older, less innocent and more culpable than white youngsters. This leads educators and even the public to support harsher punishments for similar behavior.

Research from has shown how adultification affects Black youth, especially girls. My study confirms that the problem doesn’t stop at how discipline is applied — it extends to how it’s justified.

Even though 61% of respondents in my study agreed that corporal punishment should be banned, support for the practice increased or decreased depending on the perceived identity of the child. For example, on a six-point scale where higher scores indicated stronger support for corporal punishment, participants rated it significantly more appropriate (“fitting the crime”) for a hypothetical Black gender-expansive student (2.73 on the scale) than for a white gender-expansive student (2.32) or a Black cisgender female student (2.26). That’s not just unfair — it’s dangerous.

The good news is that public opinion may be shifting. A 2023 revealed that 65% of U.S. adults agreed with a federal ban on physical punishment in schools, while only 18% were opposed. This growing consensus is reflected in recent legislative actions: and banned physical punishment in public schools in 2023, while and introduced legislation in 2024 to limit the practice. My findings also show that a majority of Mississippians oppose corporal punishment in school. Yet state and federal laws still permit it, revealing a stark disconnect between policy and public will.

That gap must be closed. Here’s how:

First, Mississippi lawmakers — and those in the 21 other states where corporal punishment is still allowed — should immediately ban the practice in all schools. No child should fear physical harm at the hands of a teacher or principal. Nationwide advocacy efforts by organizations like the emphasize the critical need for legislative reform.

Second, schools should adopt , which focus on accountability, dialogue and healing. These methods reduce conflict and improve school climate without resorting to violence. Resources from offer practical guidelines to help educators to implement these approaches.

Finally, transparency is essential. School districts should be required to report disciplinary data by race and gender identity so communities can see what’s happening and push for changes when needed. Right now, the U.S. Department of Education’s offers a national framework for doing just that��— including statistics on the demographic breakdown of students exposed to corporal punishment. However, with the ongoing uncertainty around federal policy, there’s a risk that this resource could be cut, which would make it harder to track how corporal punishment is being used in schools nationwide. We need to speak up to make sure this data collection continues and even gets stronger.

in schools takes a multi-pronged approach. It means changing laws, updating policies and working with communities to push for positive discipline methods that help children thrive without fear of physical punishment. 

It’s time to end this antiquated practice. Not just for some students, but for all of them.

The nation’s historically Black colleges and universities, known as HBCUs, are wondering how to survive in an uncertain and contentious educational climate as the Trump administration downsizes the scope and purpose of the U.S. Department of Education — while cutting away at for higher education.

In January, President Donald Trump signed an executive order pausing federal grants and loans, alarming HBCUs, where most students rely on Pell Grants or federal aid. The order was , but ongoing cuts leave key support systems in political limbo, said Denise Smith, deputy director of higher education policy and a senior fellow at The Century Foundation, a left-leaning think tank.

Leaders worry about Trump’s rollback of the Justice40 Initiative, a climate change program that relied on HBCUs to tackle environmental justice issues, she said. And there’s uncertainty around programs such as federal work-study and TRIO, which provides college access services to disadvantaged students.

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“People are being mum because we’re starting to see a chilling effect,” Smith said. “There’s real fear that resources could be lost at any moment — even the ones schools already know they need to survive.”

Most students at HBCUs rely on Pell Grants or other federal aid, and a fifth of Black college graduates matriculate from HBCUs. Other minority-serving institutions, known as MSIs, that focus on Hispanic and American Indian populations also heavily depend on federal aid.

“It’s still unclear what these cuts will mean for HBCUs and MSIs, even though they’re supposedly protected,” Smith said.

States may be unlikely to make up any potential federal funding cuts to their public HBCUs. And the schools already have been underfunded by states compared with predominantly white schools.

Congress created public, land-grant universities under the to serve the country’s agricultural and industrial industries, providing 10 million acres taken from tribes and offering it for public universities Auburn and the University of Georgia. But Black students were excluded.

The required states to either integrate or establish separate land-grant institutions for Black students — leading to the creation of many HBCUs. These schools have since faced chronic underfunding compared with their majority-white counterparts.

‘None of them are equitable’

In 2020, the average endowment of white land-grant universities was $1.9 billion, compared with just $34 million for HBCUs, to Forbes.

There are other HBCUs that don’t stem from the 1890 law, including well-known private schools such as Fisk University, Howard University, Morehouse College and Spelman College. But , meaning state lawmakers play a significant role in their funding and oversight.

Marybeth Gasman, an endowed chair in education and a distinguished professor at Rutgers University, isn’t impressed by what states have done for HBCUs and other minority-serving institutions so far. She said she isn’t sure there is a state model that can bridge the massive funding inequities for these institutions, even in states better known for their support.

“I don’t think North Carolina or Maryland have done a particularly good job at the state level. Nor have any of the other states. Students at HBCUs are funded at roughly 50-60% of what students at [predominately white institutions] are funded. That’s not right,” said Gasman.

“Most of the bipartisan support has come from the U.S. Congress and is the result of important work by HBCUs and affiliated organizations. I don’t know of a state model that works well, as none of them are equitable.”

Under federal law, federal land-grant funding are required to match every dollar with state funds.

But in 2023, the Biden administration sent letters to 16 governors warning them that their public Black land-grant institutions had been by more than $12 billion over three decades.

Tennessee State University alone had a $2.1 billion gap with the University of Tennessee, Knoxville.

At a February ��hosted by the Tennessee Black Caucus of State Legislators, Tennessee State interim President Dwayne Tucker said the school is focused on asking lawmakers this year for money to keep the school running.

Otherwise, Tucker said at the time, the institution could run out of cash around April or May.

“That’s real money. That’s the money we should work on,” Tucker said, according to a video of the forum.

In some states, lawsuits to recoup long-standing underfunding have been one course of action.

In Maryland, was reached in 2021 to address decades of underfunding at four public HBCUs.

In Georgia, in 2023 for underfunding of three HBCUs.

In Tennessee, a recent state report found Tennessee State University has been shortchanged roughly $150 million to $544 million over the past 100 years.

But Tucker said he thinks filing a lawsuit doesn’t make much sense for Tennessee State.

“There’s no account payable set up with the state of Tennessee to pay us $2.1 billion,” Tucker said at the February forum. “And if we want to make a conclusion about whether [that money] is real or not … you’re going to have to sue the state of Tennessee, and I don’t think that makes a whole lot of sense.”

Economic anchors

, Washington, D.C., and the U.S. Virgin Islands, though a large number of HBCUs are concentrated in the South.

Alabama has the most, with 14, and Pennsylvania has the farthest north HBCU.

Beyond education, HBCUs roughly $15 billion annually to their local economies, generate more than 134,000 jobs and create $46.8 billion in career earnings, proving themselves to be economic anchors in under-resourced regions.

Homecoming events at HBCUs significantly bolster local economies, local studies show. North Carolina Central University’s homecoming contributes approximately $2.5 million to Durham’s economy annually.

Similarly, Hampton University’s 2024 homecoming was projected to inject around $3 million into the City of Hampton and the coastal Virginia region, spurred by increased visitor spending and retail sales. In Tallahassee, Florida A&M University’s 2024 homecoming week in October generated about $5.1 million from Sunday to Thursday.

Their significance is especially pronounced in Southern states — such as North Carolina, where just 16% of four-year schools but serve 45% of the state’s Black undergraduate population.

Smith has been encouraged by what she’s seen in states such as Maryland, North Carolina and Tennessee, which have a combined 20 HBCUs among them. Lawmakers have taken piecemeal steps to expand support for HBCUs through policy and funding, she noted.

Tennessee became the first state in 2018 to appoint a full-time statewide higher education official dedicated to HBCU success for institutions such as Fisk and Tennessee State. Meanwhile, North Carolina launched a bipartisan, bicameral HBCU Caucus in 2023 to advocate for its 10 HBCUs, known as the NC10, and spotlight their $1.7 billion annual economic impact.

“We created a bipartisan HBCU caucus because we needed people in both parties to understand these institutions’ importance. If you represent a district with an HBCU, you should be connected to it,” said North Carolina Democratic Sen. Gladys Robinson, an alum of private HBCU Bennett College and state HBCU North Carolina A&T State University.

“It took constant education — getting folks to come and see, talk about what was going on,” she recalled. “It’s like beating the drum constantly until you finally hear the beat.”

For Robinson, advocacy for HBCUs can be a tough task, especially when fellow lawmakers aren’t aware of the stories of these institutions. North Carolina A&T was among the 1890 land-grant universities historically undermatched in federal agricultural and extension funding.

The NC Promise Tuition Plan, launched in 2018, reduced in-state tuition to $500 per semester and out-of-state tuition to $2,500 per semester at a handful of schools that now include HBCUs Elizabeth City State University and Fayetteville State University; Western Carolina University, a Hispanic-serving institution; and UNC at Pembroke, founded in 1887 to serve American Indians.

Through conversations on the floor of the General Assembly, and with lawmakers on both sides of the aisle, Robinson advocated to ensure Elizabeth City State — a struggling HBCU — was included, which helped revive enrollment and public investment.

“I’m hopeful because we’ve been here before,” Robinson said in an interview.

“These institutions were built out of churches and land by people who had nothing, just so we could be educated,” Robinson said. “We have people in powerful positions across the country. We have to use our strength and our voices. Alumni must step up.

“It’s tough, but not undoable.”

Meanwhile, other states are working to recognize certain colleges that offer significant support to Black college students. California last year creating a Black-serving Institution designation, the first such title in the country. Schools must have programs focused on Black achievement, retention and graduation rates, along with a five-year plan to improve them. Sacramento State is among the first receiving the designation.

And this session, California state Assemblymember Mike Gipson, a Democrat, introduced legislation that proposes a $75 million grant program to support Black and underserved students over five years through the Designation of California Black-Serving Institutions Grant Program. The bill was most recently referred to the Assembly’s appropriations committee.

is part of States Newsroom, a nonprofit news network supported by grants and a coalition of donors as a 501c(3) public charity. Stateline maintains editorial independence. Contact Editor Scott S. Greenberger for questions: info@stateline.org.

Chicago Public Schools unveiled a five-year plan Thursday to improve the outcomes of the district’s Black students — at a time of unprecedented backlash against efforts to promote diversity, equity, and inclusion in education.

The release of the , during Black History Month, is part of CPS’s broader five-year strategic plan and aims to address long-standing disparities in graduation, discipline, and other metrics faced by its Black students, who make up roughly a third of the student body.

The district set out to create the Black Student Success Plan in the fall of 2023, but its quiet posting on Thursday comes as both conservative advocacy groups and the Trump administration are taking aim at race-based initiatives in school districts and on college campuses.

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Late last week, the U.S. Department of Education’s top acting civil rights official that they could lose federal funding if they don’t scrap all diversity initiatives, even those that use criteria other than race to meet their goals. He cited the 2023 Supreme Court Students for Fair Admissions v. Harvard decision that banned the use of race as a college admissions factor.

CPS — in a progressive city in a Democratic state — has largely been insulated from standoffs over diversity and inclusion in recent years, when districts in other parts of the country have come under intense scrutiny over how they teach race and how they take it into account in hiring, selective program admissions, and other decisions. Increasingly, though, deep blue cities like Chicago are finding themselves in the crosshairs.

Last year, a Virginia-based advocacy group aimed at boosting outcomes for its Black students, which CPS said inspired its own plan. At the urging of the Biden administration, Los Angeles made changes to downplay the role of race, causing an outcry from some of its initiative’s supporters.

Chicago’s plan vows to increase the number of Black teachers, slash suspensions and other discipline for Black students, and embrace more culturally responsive curriculums and professional development to “combat anti-Blackness” — goals some of which could run afoul of the Department of Education’s interpretation of the Students for Fair Admissions decision.

Still, some district and community leaders in Chicago say CPS’s plan might be better-positioned to withstand challenges than Los Angeles’ initiative — and they said the district must forge ahead with the effort even as it braces for pushback.

“Now is not the time for anticipatory obedience and preemptive acquiescence,” said Elizabeth Todd-Breland, a University of Illinois Chicago professor of African American history and a former Chicago school board member who served on a working group that helped craft the plan. “This is not the time to shrink but to live out our values.”

The new plan says Illinois law mandates this work and cites a state statute that requires the Chicago Board of Education to have a . That committee has not yet been formed.

CPS declined Chalkbeat’s interview request and did not answer questions before publication. The district is hosting a celebration at Chicago State University at 3 p.m. Friday to mark the plan’s release.

Chicago set out to create Black Student Success Plan years ago

CPS convened a working group made up of 60 district employees, parents, students, and community members that started meeting in December of 2023 to begin creating .

The following spring, it with residents across the city — what the plan’s supporters describe as one of the district’s most extensive and genuine efforts to get community input.

The working group in May that included stepping up efforts to recruit and retain Black educators, promote restorative justice practices, ensure culturally responsive curriculums that teach Black history, and offer more mental health and other support for Black students through partnerships with community-based organizations.

The district adopted many of these recommendations in its plan. It sets some concrete five-year goals, including doubling the number of male Black teachers, increasing the number of classrooms where Black history is taught, and decreasing how many Black students get out-of-school suspensions by 40%.

“The Black Student Success Plan is much more than simply a document,” the plan said. “It represents a firm commitment by the district, a roadmap, and a call to action for Chicago’s educational ecosystem to ensure equitable educational experiences and outcomes for Black students across our district.”

The effort built on equity work to help “students furthest from opportunity” that started five years ago under former CEO Janice Jackson, said Dominique McKoy, the executive director of the University of Chicago’s To & Through Project. In CPS, by a range of metrics, those students have historically been Black children.

McKoy, whose work focuses on college access, points out that the district has made major strides in increasing the number of students who go to college. But more students than ever drop out before earning a college degree — an issue that has disproportionately affected Black CPS graduates.

“There’s evidence and data that we haven’t been meeting the needs of Black students,” he said. “This plan is about responding to the data. Being clear about that is one of the best ways to insulate and defend that process.”

But McKoy acknowledges that now is a challenging time to kick off the district’s plan.

“Undoubtedly there will be critics who will think it’s racial preference to help students who need help and will attack the district for doing so,” said Pedro Noguera, the dean of the University of Southern California’s Rossier School of Education.

Last year’s challenge against a $120 million Los Angeles program aimed at addressing disparities for Black students offers a case study, Noguera notes. Parents Defending Education, which opposes school district diversity and inclusion programs, filed a complaint with the Department of Education’s Office for Civil Rights. The group has also challenged programs to recruit more Black male teachers and form affinity student groups based on race in other districts.

Ultimately, Los Angeles overhauled the program to steer additional staffing and other resources to entire schools serving high-needs students, rather than more narrowly to Black students. The that to some critics, those changes watered down the program, which was beginning to show some early results. But Noguera says he feels the program is still helping Black students.

However, it is clear that the Trump administration plans to go much further in interpreting the Students for Fair Admissions decision and seeking to root out DEI initiatives. In Friday, Craig Trainor, acting assistant secretary for civil rights in the Education Department, said efforts to diversify the teaching force or the student bodies of selective enrollment programs could trigger investigations and the loss of federal funding. About 20% of CPS’s operating revenue comes from the federal government.

“The Department will no longer tolerate the overt and covert racial discrimination that has become widespread in this Nation’s educational institutions,” Trainor wrote. “The law is clear: treating students differently on the basis of race to achieve nebulous goals such as diversity, racial balancing, social justice, or equity is illegal under controlling Supreme Court precedent.”

‘Get the help to the kids who need it’

Chicago, like Los Angeles, might consider a focus on schools — chosen based on metrics such as graduation rates, test scores and others — where the plan would help Black students and their peers, Noguera said. Maybe it doesn’t even have to refer to Black students in its name, he said.

“The main thing is to get the help to the kids who need it,” he said. But, he added, “In this environment, who knows what’s challenge-proof.”

He said what helped in Los Angeles was deep community engagement that lent that district’s initiative credibility and good will; the changes that the district made in response to the legal challenge did not erode those.

Darlene O’Banner, a CPS great-grandmother who served on the working group, said CPS got the community engagement piece right. She thinks the plan will offer a detailed roadmap for improving Black students’ achievement and experience.

“I am not going to think of the unknowns and what’s going on in the world,” O’Banner said. “We’re just going to hope for the best. We can’t put the plan on hold for four years.”

The working group issued its recommendation in early fall and stopped meeting following the September resignation of all school board members, who stepped down amid pressure from the mayor’s office to fire CPS CEO Pedro Martinez over budget disagreements.

Valerie Leonard, a longtime community advocate who also served on the working group, said during the community meetings for the Black Student Success Plan last year, there was no discussion of possible legal pushback to the plan.

“Illinois is a liberal state,” she said. “It never really occurred to us a year ago that this plan would be in danger.”

But more recently, as she heard Trump assail DEI initiatives, Leonard said she wondered if the plan would survive.

Leonard pushed Illinois lawmakers last year to mandate the Board of Education appoint as part of that cleared the way for an elected school board in Chicago. The district’s plan invokes that committee though it hasn’t been formed yet. The board formed a more generic student success committee earlier this month.

“We believe that the problem with Black children in public schools is so dire that it needs to be elevated to its own committee,” she said. “When our children get lumped into something that’s for all, they inevitably fall between the cracks.”

McKoy at the University of Chicago said he feels “cautious optimism” and hopes the city and state rally around CPS as it pushes to improve outcomes for Black students.

“The plan itself isn’t going to do the work,” he said.

This story was originally published by Chalkbeat. Chalkbeat is a nonprofit news site covering educational change in public schools. Sign up for their newsletters at .

The district’s $120 million had a clear goal: lifting the academic performance of Black students, who trail behind other groups in assessments of reading and math, providing students extra tutors, and added training for their teachers.  

The program is now in doubt after Arlington-based filed a civil rights complaint arguing it violates federal law by using race “solely” as a criteria for admission, prompting the district to change its policy.

“At bottom, the Black Student Achievement Plan and its benefits are open to some students but not others — and that exclusion is solely based on an individual’s race,” the group’s said. 

In response, LAUSD said it’s no longer using race as a factor in choosing which schools participate. But the program’s future remains murky even with the changes because it could still be open to future legal challenges. 

Still, it’s a dramatic turn of events for LAUSD’s signature Black initiative, and shows the powerful influence out-of-town interests can have on local policy.  

LASUD officials said the district will still give BSAP the same resources as previous years and its programs are staying the same; and all students — not just Black students — are eligible for the help. 

The five-year-old BSAP had seemed to be headed for success by targeting Black kids. 

With broad support from LA Unified’s board, teachers and families, the program deployed counselors and social workers at roughly 50 schools, which together enrolled more about a third of the district’s Black students. 

And this year, the district’s Black students made gains on that outpaced those of other student groups. The district’s Black students also this year outscored Black students around the state on the annual exams.  

Since PDE filed its complaint, superintendent Alberto Carvalho said LA Unified was “able to reformat the program without sacrificing impact.”

“Our solution is one that preserves the funding, the concentration of attention and resources on the same students and same schools,” he said with the Los Angeles Times. 

Representatives for , which has lodged more civil rights complaints against at least ten other school districts around the nation, didn’t respond to requests for comment.

A website for the non-profit says it is a “national grassroots organization working to reclaim our schools from activists promoting harmful agendas,” including critical race theory and restorative justice. 

PDE’s board includes , the conservative litigant who previously founded an organization that won a 2023 Supreme Court decision against Harvard University to strike down affirmative action in college admissions. 

In with the federal Office for Civil Rights, PDE argued the BSAP violated the Civil Rights Act of 1964 by using race to decide which students get extra educational services.

After LA Unified dropped race as an official factor in those decisions, OCR dismissed the group’s complaint, heading off a potential legal battle. But PDE could revive its complaint. 

The district’s strategy has drawn fire from its , and an Oct. 22 board meeting. An online letter-writing urges LA Unified to “reinstate Black student population as a criterion for BSAP school allocation.”

Without race to guide which schools participate in the BSAP, University of Southern California education professor Julie Slayton said LAUSD will have to use other factors in deciding how to distribute extra resources to students. 

“They’ll take away the language of ‘Black,’ ” Slayton said. “But it doesn’t have to change, profoundly, the way that they’re thinking about the distribution of these resources and the schools that will receive them.” 

School was becoming the place he poured all his energy into, on the heels of his father’s incarceration and uncle’s murder. But simultaneously, from as young as four years old, disgusted looks from educators taught him schools were a place where he would be treated differently because he was Black. Being your authentic self, raw emotions and all, seemed to only be okay for white children.

He watched Eric, a Black classmate frequently isolated and paddled for disruptions or difficulty focusing, be expelled in first grade after bringing a water gun to school. From an early age, aunts and uncles imparting wisdom shared their experiences, told that they “would be lucky if they graduated.” 

Marrying autobiography with research and analysis of education reform movements, Fuller recounts his educational life in devastating detail in Being Black in America’s Schools, “an American story that I honestly believe is begging to be told.” 

From managing suicidal thoughts at eight to becoming desensitized to students’ humanity in pursuit of higher test scores working for a network charter, perpetuating the educational violence he thought he never would, Fuller verbalizes how policies landed in the mind of a Black child and educator. 

Amid debates of how and where Black history will be taught and a youth mental health crisis that is disproportionately felt by Black children, Fuller’s work has been described as a “beacon” that showcases “what keeps us captive while giving keen insights on what can free us,” by Abdul Tubman, activist and descendant of Harriet Tubman. 

Revealing the humans behind data and educational movements, Fuller shows the dehumanization happening in ways big and small in classrooms across the country. Tracked into advanced work in high school, for instance, he remembered how it felt to be isolated from his Black peers, then to see counselors write them, and their futures, off before they’d even graduated.  

“In the same way that the inherent racism in our criminal justice system is killing Black and brown people all the time, the inherent racism in our education system is killing the dreams of Black and brown children in the classroom,” Fuller, now an associate provost at The New School in New York City, told ����Ӱ��. 

Released in late July by Dafina, an imprint of Kensington Publishing, Fuller’s story exposes hundreds of anecdotes and presents models for transformative change in the education system. Uplifting models that champion children’s emotional wellbeing and cultures, like community schools and the freedom schools of the 1960s, he imagines a future where all children grow up learning Black history, critical thinking, and financial and emotional literacy in order to lead and “dream their way out of a dreamless land.”  

Drawing from time as an educator and administrator in and around Philadelphia, Boston and New York City’s schools, Fuller has also released a workbook companion for educators about how to concretely apply these concepts to the classroom at grade level. 

“I would have loved for them to tell me that I was worthy, to see me as their child, their nephew, a younger version of who they were, to see me the way I witnessed teachers often see my white classmates. To see me as ‘just a good kid.’ … To attempt to understand me rather than punish me. I would have loved for them to ask me about my hopes and dreams and then cultivate them in me. I would have loved for them to have fun with me and show me the joy they felt from being around me,” he writes. 

In conversation with ����Ӱ��, Fuller reflects on the importance of transforming schools to teach Black children to love themselves and what’s at stake when kids aren’t taught how to interrogate the world around them.

This interview has been lightly edited for length and clarity. 

Jelani Cobb, writer and dean of Columbia’s journalism school, calls this “a book we needed yesterday.” Why write this now? What does it mean at this moment? 

Being Black in American Schools really came from a deep commitment of mine to marginalized children, all children, but specifically Black and brown children. And to liberatory education and powerful storytelling. I think this book is so important now in our current climate, given the attack on education that’s happening. The rhetoric in the conversation is pretty horrible.

It’s so important for us to have stories like this one to cut through a lot of the noise of the pundits, the politics because under all of that are the lived experiences of our students in our classrooms.

This book has been a four year journey really for me. In 2020 I was working for the New York City Department of Education. That was a summer where we had the killings of George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor all over our television screens. What pundits now call the racial reckoning was happening. 

For me as an educator, I was looking at the world and our society and seeing that we were calling to the carpet our criminal justice system in a way that I felt was very valid – starting to interrogate its inherent racism and its inherent flaws. 

I wanted us to have that same conversation about another major American institution, which is our educational system. In the same way that the inherent racism in our criminal justice system is killing Black and brown people all the time, the inherent racism in our education system is killing the dreams of Black and brown children in the classroom. 

I imagine that coming to that realization also shaped the storytelling form you chose for this, weaving in and out of your own personal narrative, research, and historical moments in education reform. How did you decide to do that, and why are those lived experiences so necessary for people to hear and hold? 

It was really important for me to craft the book in the way that I did and I actually fought really hard for it. [Powerful storytelling] is what’s needed to really inspire action and change. Storytelling is what connects us, it’s the human aspect. 

Over the years, through false narratives, through so many things, things get so politicized and so up in the air. There’s not enough of hearing the stories and the real lived experiences of people underneath all of the theories, underneath all of the data. It was really powerful to use my own story – one that is uniquely mine but is not unique, right? 

I talk about being a child of an incarcerated parent growing up. There are millions of children right now who are living that experience. I talk about being one of a few or sometimes the only a Black child or student of color in my classroom as I was being tracked in school [into advanced coursework]. There are hundreds of thousands of children that are experiencing that right now. 

My own story was authentic to me, I knew I could tell it well and analyze it now from my lens as an educator, but also, I felt like it was one that so many people could connect to. I weave in the research and the history and keep it greater than the story because I think it helps people connect to the point that I’m trying to get across … This is what happened, and this is what this means, and this is how it looks.

That comes across in moments like when you describe working in youth development in Philadelphia, seeing the distrust in the community, both for strangers coming to their door and for education after . You feel it, the lived impact of those moments. 

And at so many points, you describe having to advocate for yourself, against the bias of white educators who assumed you cheated or wanted to discipline you or your friends more harshly than your white peers. You show why believing a phrase you repeated often, “I deserve to be here,” was necessary. How do you instill or encourage that in youth who are systemically underserved, and how might we get to a point where youth don’t have to be such fierce advocates? 

I am a strong believer in advocating for yourself, especially as a marginalized person in this world and in our society. In schools, I think how you encourage it is through developing their critical consciousness, developing their own empowering concept of self. 

We come from a legacy of being marginalized, being pushed to the side and being told that we are less-than in society. Because of that, we’re not necessarily the first to advocate for ourselves, especially where we feel discredited or feel like we are seen as second-class citizens. 

I always encourage students that I work with and parents that they deserve to have quality education, they deserve to have a quality experience, and their voice deserves to be heard. 

That advocacy is so important and as you see in the book, my advocacy saved me in many ways. That was something that was really important in my household; my mom taught me to be an advocate for myself because she was an advocate for me. I had that, but not every student is gonna have that because parents come with their lived experiences as well.

To your other question, how do we get to a point where we don’t need to … I think at some level, we will always have to advocate for more for ourselves. That’s not trying to be bleak, but I just think that’s reality. How we get to a point where there’s not much as much advocacy needed is really, the point in the book: to first acknowledge that our educational system was, in its current designs and its original intention, not designed to properly educate Black and brown people well. And then start to interrogate the designs – how we restructure an education system so that it serves all students. 

You also explore why early childhood education is particularly important for forming a sense of self. Reports keep coming out revealing how many millions of young children – for some states like New Mexico, one in two – are experiencing parental incarceration, abuse, death or other ACEs [adverse childhood experiences]. How can educators better support the earliest learners with these lived traumas?

And also RST or racial stress trauma, which is still severely underreported. I believe that every child born outside of the nucleus of what American society is, whiteness, experiences some racial stress trauma. 

We know that from the age 0 to 5, so much of your child’s development takes place. Their mental development, their identity of self. When that is compounded with trauma, we have to address that – in our early childhood centers, our Head Start centers, and as soon as they’re entering into school. 

I normally break it down – at the earliest stages, our children have to love who they are. So what does that mean? However they identify needs to be honored, uplifted and they need to be seen, empowered and know that they have a place in our society. They’re not second class in society, they’re not “other” in society. They are front and center and important in society. You do that through building authentic relationships, and in curriculum. Liberatory curriculum is age appropriate, but also brings in the identities of those youngest learners in ways that are normalized, uplifting to their identities. 

The reality we need to face in America is what you just mentioned, most of our students are coming into the classroom with some form of trauma. We are creating an education system that is just ignoring it. Early childhood is also extremely underfunded. We need more mental health counselors and specialists in our early childhood centers … to think about the designs of your classrooms, schools and how you are addressing the needs of your students.

People will probably read this and be like, well, we don’t even have them in our middle or high schools. But that just tells you how much mental health children’s mental health is put on the back burner. We see it in the numbers. . We have to start putting our resources behind these things. 

That’s a part of liberatory education too, providing them with the tools and trained individuals to help them cope with the traumas that are the reality of living in America. 

You go through some models that try to do this very thing and put a huge emphasis on building up Black children – like community schools, the , and in . That emphasis on love, grace and empathy, it’s not something that’s necessarily taught to teachers in preparation programs. How do you remind educators or leaders who are currently in positions of power of that, to champion kids’ humanity? 

It is not taught in our teacher professional development programs as much as it needs to be. There are programs out there – I mention one, Glenn Singleton’s Courageous Conversations work which does great educator professional development around race – but there’s not a lot.

I’m not saying that children shouldn’t learn in your classrooms, but they won’t be able to learn if they’re in your classroom where they don’t feel safe or loved or like they are seen. 

I always say what moves people is storytelling. But also there’s and data out there that actually shows the more a child feels included in the curriculum, the more the child feels safe, or the better relationship the child has with their teacher, the better they’re going to do academically. There’s so much talk on disparities and how do we close the gaps … [We need more] access to that data showing that we need to have an emphasis on identity development and affirming curriculum. We need to have an emphasis on building authentic relationships. We need to have an emphasis on deconstructing bias in your practice. 

When I finished this book, we weren’t in the present day, of course. Now I’m thinking about the potential of what could happen with current policies, like book banning and the banning of diversity and inclusion, and what could come with Project 2025. I think where we need to focus is really on the grassroots. 

At the end of the day, regardless of what’s happening from a legislative standpoint, we still have millions of kids in the classroom that we are responsible for and can’t let fall through the cracks. If they ban diversity, equity and inclusion, so you can’t say those words, then don’t say those words, but still affirm your students in the classroom. Still honor their identity in the classroom. Those are the conversations that we need to be having with our teachers. 

We get caught up on, this is banned now so we can’t do this, or now we can’t teach AP African American studies. No, you can still honor your students and, and you don’t have to call it that, but you can still do it in the classroom on the ground. Our kids are suffering and we can’t continue to allow them to suffer at the hands of a small minority of people.

Particularly as you’re mentioning the hyper emphasis, especially after the pandemic, on learning losses and academic performance. I keep hearing from educators that we cannot lose the person in all of that, because it’s going to make it that much harder to do anything else. 

I hear sometimes this distinction that, oh, well, if we honor our student’s identity or if we really have a focus on what people like to call “soft skills,” they’ll lose the focus on the academic outcomes. Those two things are not separate, they go hand in hand. Children do better when their lived experiences are brought into the classroom, when you tie in real world current events and their lived experience, when you’re able to connect that to what you’re trying to teach them. They feel they feel more connected to what they’re trying to learn and therefore have better outcomes. 

Speaking of censorship and fear culture, in your writing, you express exactly why learning Black history, accurate history, is important for all children at every stage of education. Referencing the first ethnic studies course you took as a college student at Emory, you said it enabled you to “finally put theory and evidence behind many of mine and my family’s experiences. It was as if up until this point, I had been in a battle without armor.” 

Can you speak more on this, which alludes to a James Baldwin quote, about what you found in that course that you wished you had gotten earlier or that you think youth need exposure to today?

My dad was a part of the mass incarceration of nonviolent criminals who faced very long sentencing for drug related charges. I had experienced that act of violence by my society. Then growing up in South Carolina and experiencing on the ground discriminatory comments … I experienced all of that, that legacy of slavery, of racism that was passed down from generation to generation in our American society. 

When I got to Emory, I learned about redlining. I learned about mass incarceration. I learned about Jim Crow laws, I learned about all of these things and it was like, wow, no, I get it now. This isn’t just something that is happening. This is very intentional and it’s by design. It almost was an empowering thing because, as much as I had my family trying to let me know the great contributions of Black people in our society, your lived experiences are telling you a lot of different things counter to that. 

Without having the knowledge of, oh wow, our American society was designed to have these outcomes for this group of people, Black people. It’s not that we’re not as smart, or we’re just not as successful or we’re just not as capable. 

Now I understand the corrupt designs behind that lived experience, why my family and those around me have that experience. Now I understand it and I can go forward and combat it. I think that’s so important for our students to experience. 

The Baldwin quote came from a where he also said, children see everything, they are like a sponge. They’re observing everything but they can’t articulate necessarily what it is that they’re observing. But they know that something is off. They know that there’s some “terrible weight” on their parent’s shoulders that menaces them. That terrible weight is racism, is white supremacy. 

We’re experiencing that every day. Our children are experiencing it every day and they can’t necessarily articulate it. But if they’re not being taught the true history, they’re not being taught how to interrogate society, be civically engaged, and understand those individuals that were critical thinkers of our society – individuals like Baldwin, Malcolm X, Dr. Martin Luther King. If they’re not taught the designs of our American society, then that is still a very disempowering curriculum that perpetuates racial propaganda and a social caste system in America. 

It’s so important at the earliest stage I got a little bit of it at home. My first [classroom] experience of it was when I got to college, but children need to be experiencing that at the earliest ages of early stages of their educational experience that is developmentally appropriate. 

I just want to emphasize that perspective and name that it runs counter to the narrative that I often hear used to minimize the importance of teaching Black history or systemic racism: this is going to teach kids to hate America, that they will feel depression, not pride. 

I hear those same things that you’re talking about, we don’t want to feel bad, or sometimes, we don’t want kids to feel guilty for things that they had nothing to do with. But to teach truth and to learn truth is empowering for everybody. It puts everyone on the same playing field. 

It’s so empowering for a Black child to know, hey, it’s not just because of who I am innately. It’s because of the legacies of how this country was designed and policies and practices that took place that impacted my ancestors and now have impacted me. Then, what can I do now to change those things so that my legacy can be different? Or my children, grandchildren, whoever’s can be different? That’s empowering for a white child too, like, oh, this is, this is where we messed up in the past. Now what can I do to make sure that we don’t repeat that in the future? 

This book is also referred to as a call to action. To whom and for what are you calling out for? 

There are three things I hope people get from this book. One is first just the knowledge and the acknowledgment that our educational system and in its original intention and current designs was to perpetuate a racial and social hierarchy within our American society. 

Then, let’s look at the designs of our educational system and figure out, in what ways is this design perpetuating that hierarchy so we can start to redesign, reimagine, make necessary change. So that those in power who are able to make the change from a legislative perspective, do that. Those in power who are able to make the change from a school design perspective, do that. Those in power who are able to make the change from interactions with students in the classroom, do that. And then those who maybe are not a parent or educator per se but are interested in the ways that we educate children in this country, they can then start to advocate for those for changes within their local communities and school systems. 

My hope is that this book really inspires us all to action. All of us play a part in that. You don’t have to be senator or work for the federal Department of Education. I hope that this book really makes everyone feel like they all have a part in it and they all can be actors agents of change. 

With my family, I pretended everything was fine because they also told me, “You’re a young Black girl who will end up in child protective services because the system is racist against people like us.” When my middle, elementary and high school reached out about therapy, my family refused. A meeting was set up with my grandmother and mother to discuss mental health options, but they declined. When I came home, I was met with yelling and I was berated by my family for making “the school think something damn wrong at home.”

Even when I did briefly get a therapist through a health center at age 14, the provider, a Black woman, told me, “You’re a Black girl. They’re going to put you in the system and label you as crazy and aggressive.”

I have more stories like these, and I know other Black girls do too. Here’s what our schools need to know: We are not as strong as you think we are. We are strong only because we were forced to carry the weight of systemic stereotypes, unresolved trauma and our own emotional needs. That’s why schools need to address the elephant in the room: their lack of mental health support and how it is affecting Black girls. 

Our issues start at home due to our families’ fear of the school system perpetuating racism through lack of cultural connection, and schools worsen this fear through budget cuts to mental health services and by criminalizing Black girls. As a result, the Strong Black Woman stereotype is placed on us at an early age. Rather than making us feel empowered, it only leads to unique internalized pain, depression and anxiety.

As early as age 2, your Black daughter is often treated as if she’s 5. At 10, she is treated like she’s 15. By the time we’re even aware of our own existence, the world has already adultified us. This is where society considers Black girls less innocent compared to their white counterparts. People often believe Black girls ages 5 to 14 need than white girls of the same age. By the time we learn how to use the bathroom on our own, parents and authority figures believe we’re independent enough to handle our own emotions. Because we’re expected to know better — by parents, teachers and even the judicial system — we are also more likely to receive harsher punishment, with a whopping 37.2% of Black girls being arrested at school, compared with 30.2% of white girls.

Black people overall are than our Caucasian counterparts, and this is true about . Black communities also have fewer resources. And historically, there’s a on therapy. As a result, many Black families feel like therapy isn’t made for us — and when children aren’t encouraged by their families to seek treatment, they can wind up with : problems such as cruelty, bullying others, aggression and emotional dysregulation. on 227 black women and found that in them, depression shows up as insomnia, irritability and self-criticism. Irritability is a large factor in the “Angry Black Woman.” Yet, society expects them to be strong. No wonder they’re less likely to seek treatment. 

Now, imagine having to regulate your own emotions and existence and foster independence in order to avoid further social and systemic discrimination. This is what happens to Black women who were adultified early on. They mature into the “Strong Black Woman” stereotype, portraying themselves as strong, independent women who are able to achieve motherhood without a father, balance multiple jobs and take up caregiving roles within the community, all without getting angry, crying or having other strong emotional reactions. The history behind the “Strong Black Woman” is extensive — each experience a Black woman faces stems from a coping mechanism required to keep not only themselves alive, However, this burden of strength only leads too many women — possibly some in your family and community — to internalize their pain.

I know firsthand how, when mental health struggles aren’t addressed, they get worse and affect other people, too. I lost a friend in fifth grade because her mother worried I’d influence her with my ideas of suicide and self-harm. Eight years later, my best friend told me other students in elementary school had been scared of me and found my frequent talk of death terrifying. They thought I was a witch. I can see why they were worried. To combat bullying and the fear of being seen as weak, I began having aggressive outbursts in fifth grade toward my classmates, I sat under desks to regulate my emotions and even threatened students who I felt had emotionally harmed me. My coping mechanisms have since haunted me into my teenage years. 

In ninth grade, I had an altercation with my mother over reaching out to my school in Brooklyn for help. That was during COVID. My mother eventually agreed, but started interrogating me on what was said during sessions, because she was in earshot of the conversations. However, returning to school in person in 10th grade saved me. After years of my family denying help from my elementary, middle, and high school, I finally received help from the at my high school. I met weekly with two counselors to improve my anger management and anxiety. For the first time, an adult finally understood me without instilling the fear of social implications. Due to the confidentiality of the services, I was able to discuss my issues in a healthy manner.

Unfortunately, just as I was beginning to see improvements, the office cut back its services. This exacerbated not only my mental health struggles, but those of my classmates who also relied on the office for help. At one point in my first semester of 12th grade, I broke down on the staircase when I couldn’t find a provider. 

I finally got the help I needed at my school from counselors by the second semester of 12th grade. Whether it was to gossip and vent or when I experienced emotional episodes, I had a community of counselors to support me who knew the struggle of being a Black teen girl. My school noticed and gave me an award for advocating for my mental well-being and persisting to do so — even when the odds were against me.

Unfortunately, this is not the story for many black girls in New York City and across America.

So here’s what needs to be done. Knowing that African-American families have a , Black girls can benefit from counselors incorporating racial socialization into trauma-focused cognitive behavioral therapy. This means implementing counseling and providers , as well as cultural competence, to help Black girls tackle the discrimination and historical traumas we as a community continue to endure.  

For schools to do better at mental health services, they need to recognize how Black girls are treated and how they experience the world. Schools must implement racially socialized mental health services by or have a willingness to understand a student’s background. Black girls are far behind in receiving mental services in their schools, and the Black community has to catch up. Our community has to work together in destroying mental health barriers that are deterring its members from seeking help. It is vital for learning institutions to aid in the efforts to destroy harmful stereotypes placed on young Black girls through their families and schools.

A Philadelphia group wants schools to focus more on being places of joy as a way to overhaul the culture in district schools, and it’s relying on parents and community voices for help.

Lift Every Voice, the organization behind this year’s Joy Campaign, is backing the creation of a to bolster access to recess, the arts, counselors, and the district’s program to bolster student mental health known as the Support Team for Educational Partnership. The blueprint would also create a Chief of Joy position in the district; in June, the City Council a resolution in Philly schools. The group says this approach to budgeting and community input is crucial for reducing things like disparities in student discipline.

The district has its own federally funded restorative justice program that focuses on student empowerment and engagement. But Lift Every Voice wants its work to be broader by auditing whether collective punishments like enforced quiet times and limited recess in schools contribute to inequities and an anti-Black environment. Parent surveys conducted by Lift Every Voice from earlier this year show that student mental health and school climate and environments are still major concerns that the district must address, the group says.

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Ultimately, it

“The school system is a closed system that doesn’t want to be told what to do and we’re starting to force them to come to grips with our voice that’s not going away,” said Wes Lathrop, Lift Every Voice’s organizing director.

Councilmember Kendra Brooks, who co-sponsored the June resolution, sees the campaign as a way to help schools embrace cultural differences, and as a way to to reduce disparities and biases, including those held by adults.

“We have to find a way to embrace the model and make it part of the normal cultural norms,” Brooks said. “A project we’re taking on has to be embedded. The only way we do that is consistency and sustainability, and oftentimes we haven’t seen that.”

Lathrop sees community involvement in restorative justice as a two-way street, pointing to the importance for all citizens of having students who are well-prepared for the job market and post-graduation life: “Parents can be a real guiding powerful force to really shape the future of the district.”

Susan McLeod, a Philadelphia public schools parent, got involved with Lift Every Voice because of issues her child was facing. She feels crucial decisions are made in the district without any parent involvement, such as announcements of district school closures more than 10 years ago that took her completely off guard. The group has helped her feel empowered on her own and her child’s behalf.

“It’s important for us to lay this foundation for our kids to have a better learning experience as young as elementary school,” McLeod said.

Racial disparities in student discipline represent one particular concern. The district has adopted practices rooted in restorative justice, an approach to discipline that emphasizes conflict mediation between students and other forms of resolving conflicts as alternatives to student suspensions and expulsions.

Overall suspensions have declined in Philadelphia public schools recently: The percentage of students with at least one suspension in a school year has dropped from about 11.5% in 2013 to about 5.7% in 2023. But over that same period, Black and Hispanic students were suspended at higher rates relative to their total enrollment than white students, according to data from the .

The district’s Relationships First initiative started in 2019 and expanded in 2023 to include more schools. It’s focused on developing students as leaders in restorative justice efforts and trains teachers to guide students in that work.

“Folks have the opportunity to engage in restorative conversations … and to be able to provide alternatives to suspension across the entire district,” said Luis Rosario, assistant director of school climate and culture for the district. “I do think it’s a testament to the leadership of our school district to move in that direction.”

These efforts dovetail with another led by Healing Futures. Healing Futures is operated by the nonprofit Youth Art & Self-Empowerment Project that receives case referrals from the Philadelphia District Attorney’s office in place of a legal charge. In programs that last a minimum of eight weeks with mentor participation, students attend weekly discussions about their values and community and how to take accountability for the harm created by the student’s actions.

“We want to make sure that as many different perspectives of a situation can come into the room and offer their insight and support collectively,” said Hanae Mason, who is shadowing Healing Futures as part of her work as a to improve systems serving youth.

Building students’ agency and perspective can take different forms and lead to various outcomes.

Mary Libby, former principal at what’s now the Marian Anderson Neighborhood Academy, worked to introduce restorative justice practices and noticed students taking on more responsibility after formal restorative sessions. Students led the push when in honor of singer and local civil rights activist Marian Anderson, Libby said.

“In order for us to collectively move forward in a restorative and inclusive way, we need to trust and let the kids lead that process,” Libby said.

Malachi Grogan, an incoming seventh grader at Anderson who helped lead efforts to change the school’s name, is proud of the trust he has created with his peers where he can now lead restorative or cooling conversations.

“If we talk about it then we can get to know how people are feeling,” Grogan said. “And if we don’t know how people are feeling, how are we supposed to help them?”

Correction, Aug. 8, 2024: This article has been updated to clarify that Healing Futures is not led by the district attorney’s office, but is part of the nonprofit Youth Art & Self-Empowerment Project. It receives case referrals from the district attorney’s office but is not part of city government.

This was originally published by Chalkbeat. Chalkbeat is a nonprofit news site covering educational change in public schools. Sign up for their newsletters at .

was founded by Keyon Watkins in 2020. The club originally consisted of Watkins and about 15 of his friends meeting on Facetime or Zoom to discuss books like The Art of War and The Four Agreements. But when tragedy struck his family on Mother’s Day two years later, Watkins knew he wanted to do more.

On May 8, 2022, Watkins’s brother Damon Hawkins was fatally shot in a parking lot.

“My older brother was very intelligent,” Watkins said. “However, he couldn’t read. When you can’t read, you have limited options in life. What could the trajectory of his life have been if he knew how to read?”

Because his brother couldn’t read, he didn’t graduate from high school. Watkins, his mother and his niece helped Hawkins fill out job applications, but Hawkins’s lack of literacy, Watkins said, limited his options for jobs, as well as housing. Watkins described the area where his brother lived as “terrible.” He was killed by one of his neighbors. 

Watkins said his brother’s death motivated him to against gun violence and expand Black Men Read to become a nonprofit that could help young children improve their literacy.

St. Louis has struggled for years to raise reading proficiency for its students. As of 2021, only of K-12 Black public school students in the city were proficient readers, in comparison to 55% of white students. 

shows that third graders who aren’t proficient in reading by the end of the school year are four times less likely to graduate from high school than students who are. In 2021, only Black third graders in St. Louis public schools scored as proficient or advanced in English Language Arts.

Missouri passed a law in 2022 to require schools to focus on science of reading strategies to improve literacy. But Watkins and other community members aren’t waiting.

In 2022, his organization worked with Head Start programs to read to preschoolers. Soon after volunteering with Head Start, he and eight members of the group began reaching out to members of the community who might be interested in tutoring older students.The organization volunteered twice a week at Barack Obama Elementary School for the second half of the 2023-24 school year. Its members worked with 15 students in first to fifth grade after school and hope to expand to more schools in the Normandy School District soon.

Tutors are required to pass a background screening and undergo training. They worked with Webster University to receive proper tutoring training and used techniques from the , which teaches linguistic and reading comprehension, to guide their lessons. Watkins hopes to offer this training for parents in the future so they can implement these methods at home.

The organization also made a concerted effort to maintain enthusiasm around reading throughout the summer. In June, Black Men Read launched a summer reading program at the First Baptist Church of Meacham Park’s education center. It is hosting about 30 kids on Wednesdays and Thursdays for about 3½ hours. The program began with individual testing to assess each student’s reading level and includes one-on-one tutoring throughout the day.

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“We focus on phonics and sight words. We also have flashcards that will have a story with no words, just pictures so they can visually arrange what happens, first, second and third, to help with reading comprehension. We try to make it fun. We have sight word bingo and crossword puzzles to keep them engaged,” Watkins said.

The summer program includes other activities like slime making and guided workouts from a physical trainer. Black Men Read also partnered with another local organization called to provide each child with a book to take home.

With the school year approaching, two of the biggest challenges Watkins and his team are facing are finding enough volunteer tutors and financial assistance. He said the community has been supportive, but he is hoping to obtain grants soon.

, which works to “highlight the racist educational status quo,” according to its Instagram page, helps bolster Black Men Read’s literacy efforts while holding the local school board accountable for what it believes are low expectations for Black students. 

“We know that poverty and all these things affect learning, and we have to do what we can to address it, but we also have to start with the belief that despite our kids’ challenges, they can succeed,” said coalition founder Chester Asher. “But the longer we persist in this sense of pity that all these poor children can’t do anything because of their struggle, we just enable and feed a cycle of poverty.”

Black Men Read and Coalition with STL Kids have partnered to recruit 100 new tutors. On Aug. 16, they will hold a training session for new tutors focused on the science of reading and the five pillars of literacy: phonemic awareness, phonics, fluency, vocabulary and comprehension.

Black youth show up in emergency rooms with gunshot wounds or other violent injuries in the United States. Some hospitals have that can be effective in keeping these kids safer after they are treated, but in most cases victims are sent back into the world to continue their struggles.

Kadeidra Henderson is a student at Bishop State Community College, in Mobile, Ala. She didn’t initially care much about the history of her institution — originally, higher education wasn’t in her plans.

“I am 25 years old, and I was trying every way possible not to go to college. I didn’t want the student loans. I didn’t want that,” said Henderson.

When it came to deciding whether or not to further her education, Henderson realized that attending a historically Black community college just seven miles from her high school — Davidson High in Mobile — was a viable option.

”When I did a little bit more research, I saw that you get a bit more money for having a Bachelor of Science, and they only have an Associate of Science. So I was like, okay, I’ll just take the first step. It isn’t hard to go ahead and take the first step that leads you to where you are trying to go.”

Henderson serves as Miss Bishop State, a leadership position on campus that involves giving back to the community and uplifting the students. 

Historically Black colleges and universities are such an institution in the United States that they are commonly referred to by an acronym — HBCUs — but it’s a lesser-known fact that two-year programs exist to serve this student population as well. Though the HBCU experience is typically tied to prestigious four-year schools like Howard University, Spelman College, and North Carolina A&T, some say the importance and unique aspects of two-year Black institutions are overlooked.

Historically Black community colleges (HBCCs) are two-year institutions that generally lead to an associate degree. According to , “HBCCs are defined as institutions with a historical mission of serving Black students that predates the 1964 Civil Rights Act.”

H.M. Kuneyl, a Ph.D. student at the University of Illinois, researches the history of community colleges and their unique role within the broader landscape of higher education.

Kuneyl spent time at a  earlier in her academic career. While researching, Kuneyl realized that many pieces were missing from the history of HBCCs.

“I’m thinking, well, wait a minute, what does it look like to be an institution that is theoretically open access in a time of the Jim Crow and a time of segregation, where is this story?” she said. “So that is what led me to focus on the history of HBCUs, or what we call them, HBCC, historically Black community colleges.”

 once had 12 Black junior colleges that closed in the aftermath of the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Research showed certain shared characteristics for all 12 of these institutions.

“All of these colleges are located in the southern former Confederate states. They were developed and began serving students during segregation, and most of those were actually developed after Brown v. Board of 1954 and 55, so that tells you a lot about why these institutions were built and who they were intended to serve,” Kuneyl said.

“I think the way that I looked at college was completely wrong, but this community college that I started going to made me have a whole different perspective,” Henderson said. “Your education will help you make money rather than lose it, so when I started going to Bishop State, I started getting involved. They have so many different opportunities for you.”

Affordability makes community colleges attractive, and HBCUs can play an important role in helping students shore up their academics before heading to another institution, according to Gregory Price, a professor of economics at the University of New Orleans. 

“Community colleges likely have an advantage in remediating any academic deficiencies. If you’re weak in math and reading, community colleges are probably better able to address those shortfalls. And they can do it at a lower cost because operational expenses are probably lower,” said Price.

According to a , many Black students face barriers when it comes to accessing college and achieving success. These obstacles include insufficient academic readiness, limited access to necessary technology and resources, as well as higher chances of balancing caregiving duties and full-time employment.

“Only 57% of Black students have access to the full range of math and science courses necessary for college , compared to 81% of Asian American students and 71% of white students,” the report reads.

After graduation, Henderson plans on attending Tennessee State University, an HBCU in Nashville, to study dental hygiene. She feels the relationship between Bishop State and other HBCUs in Alabama and surrounding areas isn’t as pronounced as it could be.

“We have so many career fairs at our school, but none of them are HBCUs. We’re close to Alabama A&M, and I never see their table,” she said. “We don’t have the HBCU tables that we need. I think we all have to do our own research on that. Even our advisors, they’re the ones who are looking up HBCUs for us.”

This relates with Kuneyl’s research, which highlights how the historical narrative of education often overlooks the experiences of racially minoritized students, especially in community colleges. 

“There’s a lot of interest in helping racially minoritized students, but there wasn’t a lot of history about the institutions that serve these students. In particular, community college history is often told from a northern white perspective,” said Kuneyl.

The data, released by the and the , found about one-third of community college students transfer to a four-year school with less than half graduating within six years — equating to the net completion rate of 16 percent.

But the report, in collaboration with the , saw even smaller completion rates for students who are Black, Latino and low-income at 9, 13 and 11 percent respectively.

John Fink, a senior research associate at the Community College Research Center, said this is because the transfer system is “riddled with barriers” from the historic lack of collaboration between community colleges and four-year schools.

“It’s not an equitable system when we rely on [community college] students to come in with knowledge of this hidden curriculum on how to transfer instead of holding institutions responsible for creating clear pathways and adequate advising along the way,” Fink said.

The confusion and lack of clarity has added to students’ growing disdain for working towards a four-year degree as recent enrollment gains come particularly from community colleges with a vocational program focus, Fink said. 

“The [transfer system] largely replicates existing societal inequities,” Fink said. “The folks who are going to community college in large numbers are from communities that have historically had less access to bachelor and graduate degrees — like low-income and students of color.”

“If there’s no additional resources and support to make up for this, you can expect to see these disparities in completion outcomes,” Fink said.

Disparate Bachelor’s Degree Outcomes

The report showed mixed four-year completion outcomes from community college transfers demographically, Fink said. 

Low-income, Black and Latino students saw completion rates below the national average, in addition to men and students 25 years or older.

But high-income, Asian and White students saw completion rates above the national average, in addition to women and students 18 to 19 years old.

Fink said completion rates have increased slightly compared to previous years — jumping from 14 percent in 2016.

But he noted the increase is “not a lot [and] definitely not where we need it to be.”

“There is so much potential here to create greater economic mobility, to further diversify student bodies and to bring in community college transfers that can perform at the same if not higher rates than non-transfer students,” Fink said.

Fink said creating a “sense of belonging” on campus and expanding core practices such as dual enrollment will greatly improve transfer completion outcomes.

“Visibility, belonging and inclusion are important things to think about in order to change some of these dismal outcomes nationally,” Fink said.

‘Exclusionary’ Transfer Practices 

Dr. Marielena DeSanctis, president of the , said the completion disparities for students from low-income backgrounds are troubling.

“There’s plenty of data that speaks to more and more jobs requiring a bachelor’s degree, so it’s concerning when you start limiting the number of people that can attain one,” DeSanctis said.

DeSanctis, who previously worked at , said Florida has a very different landscape for students to transfer from a community college to a four-year school compared to Colorado.

“There was no question that the courses you were taking were going to transfer and that it was going to be equivalent credits [but] here in Colorado that’s not the case,” DeSanctis said, noting the harm of “exclusionary” transfer practices she’s noticed from four-year schools.

“Because community colleges tend to be more racially and ethnically diverse, we should be telling students that community college is a vehicle to transfer to a university — particularly students that are ready to change the trajectory of their lives,” DeSanctis said. 

Debi Gaitan, vice president of student services at , agreed with DeSanctis, adding that constraints placed on students from low-income backgrounds shouldn’t hinder them from having access to a four-year school whether they decide to transfer or go straight into the workforce.

“San Antonio is very much a city where we can see where our communities of poverty reside and they feed directly into our institutions,” Gaitan said, noting that her students are often part-time, caring for family members and working to make ends meet.

“We want to ensure the stigma of not completing is not placed on this population,” Gaitan said. “It’s more about ‘did they reach their goal of being able to get a better job with better income to get out of poverty.’”

Gaitan said it’s important for both community colleges and four-year schools to actively reach out to students from low-income backgrounds.

“Students that have choices and are resourced know about us and know what we have to offer,” Gaitan said. “Therefore we need to shift to the communities that don’t know we’re here…[because] students from intergenerational cycles of poverty need those same resources our upwardly mobile, higher income communities already have.”

Gaitan said resources that have been effective in her community include counseling programs and “apartment starters” where students have access to microwaves, washing machines and other household needs so they can focus on their studies.

“These are communities that need us to be different and need us to be doing more,” Gaitan said. “We want as many people in higher education to know this as possible because that’s how we have learned and that’s how we have adopted and adapted some really promising practices.”

This article is part of a series in partnership with reporter Joshua Bay’s highlighting the struggles of community college students.

Minority-serving institutions, or MSIs, are one place to look in order to fix that.

A recent analysis by the found that between 2012 and 2019, the number of prospective teachers completing their preparation programs dropped by 20%. That number recovered slightly in subsequent years, but a state-by-state analysis shows wide variations. Some states, like California and Washington have seen enrollment and completion increase in recent years. Others, like Louisiana and Texas, have seen big declines.

But In states across the country, teacher prep programs in minority-serving institutions, including Historically Black Colleges and Universities, are producing higher percentages of completers than non-MSIs.

An analysis of conducted by the Branch Alliance for Educator Diversity, the organization I lead, found that between 2018 and 2022, minority-serving institutions saw the number of program completers increase by 5.5% on average, across all 50 states, the District of Columbia and U.S. territories. Meanwhile, non-MSIs saw an average 0.7% decline.

At the state level, those numbers are even more glaring. In Louisiana, completion at MSI programs rose by 6% over that time period while declining 25% at non-MSIs. In Texas, MSI completion grew by 5% while non-MSI completion dropped by 17%, while Maryland saw an increase of 10% versus a decline of 23%. In Arkansas, Montana, New Mexico, Ohio, Oregon, Puerto Rico and South Carolina, the trend was the same.

Headlines are dominated by statistics showing fluctuating and declining enrollment in educator preparation programs, teachers colleges and universities, as well as staffing shortages in schools. But enrollment is an input and staffing shortages a lagging indicator. The percentage of enrollees who actually complete their training — those who are truly prepared to stand and deliver in the classroom — is an essential data point that leaders and policymakers should pay focused attention to.

As a former HBCU school of education dean and the leader of an organization focused on supporting high-quality teacher preparation, my experience tells me MSIs are so successful at this because of their focus on student care and identity.

They, and HBCUs specifically, have seen in recent years. Much of this can be attributed to the political volatility around issues of diversity, equity and inclusion as well as the Supreme Court’s ruling that struck down affirmative action in college admissions. In response, Black and brown young people are actively seeking places where they can pursue their education in ways that are empowering and culturally affirming. 

Within MSIs, students are increasingly looking to pathways that enable them to positively impact their communities and students back home. Teaching is rightly viewed by Black and brown educators as a primary means of doing exactly that. A study by Donors Choose and the Center for Black Educator Development found that teachers of color — the majority of whom received their education from MSIs — are far more likely than their white counterparts to to “affirm the racial and ethnic identity of students of color.”

Aspiring teachers at MSIs, then, are engaged in an effort to build something better, to be the transformational teacher that either they were fortunate enough to have or perhaps never had themselves. They see that the route to making change in the public education system is to be part of it: to become educators and improve the system from the inside.

They see themselves as the carriers of the torch, the tellers of a necessary story to foster the development of a sense of agency and a positive cultural identity in students who grew up in circumstances similar to their own. And they learn to do this at schools whose very existence is premised on the belief that their identity is valuable and demands care. 

It is that culture of care, combined with that spirit of possibility and change-making, that has enabled MSI educator preparation programs to excel amid broader declines. These are features of teacher preparation that can exist beyond MSI campuses. Non-MSIs can and should work to create a similar culture of care for their aspiring educators. That means ensuring their preparation program instills a positive sense of their own identity — who teachers are and where they are from can be valuable assets in their vocation. And it means their experience in teacher prep inspires them to work as builders of community and agents of progress in the public schools for the benefit of all students.

Public schools need teachers who are well prepared to deliver the high-quality learning required for a rapidly changing world and who have the cultural competency to teach the full diversity of America’s students.

On average, Black children in Michigan are far behind their peers across the country when it comes to a number of criteria, including graduating high school on time, completing an associate’s degree and fourth-grade reading proficiency.   

In fact, that was true of every benchmark measured in the Annie E. Casey Foundation’s new , which used data relating to early childhood, education and work experiences, family resources and neighborhood context.

“While our recent state budgets have gone a long way toward making sure schools are sufficiently funded, that’s coming on the heels of decades of disinvestment,” said Monique Stanton, president and CEO of the Michigan League for Public Policy (MLPP), which houses the state’s Kids Count project.

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Stanton said that disinvestment in education has been compounded by a history of discriminatory policies targeting housing, property tax limits and local funding for neighborhoods.

“Those years of inadequate funding means Black children in Michigan are among the least likely to attend preschool, be proficient in reading and math, graduate high school on time or earn a post-secondary degree,” she said.

First introduced in 2014 by the Annie E. Casey Foundation, Race for Results was next updated in 2017. However, this third edition contains data from the aftermath of the COVID-19 pandemic that the MLPP says demonstrates the urgency of crafting policy prescriptions to ensure all children can thrive.

“Race for Results contends that young people are missing critical developmental milestones as a direct result of choices to not invest in policies, programs, and services that support children, especially in under-resourced communities and communities of color,” stated a news release.

While the report does note some metrics showing improvement in Michigan, it is uneven with some groups progressing and others continuing to struggle.

Michigan outpaced the overall national average when it comes to adults ages 25 to 29 who have completed an associate’s degree or higher. However, that progress is overshadowed by data indicating Black students were left behind, with just 20% earning that credential compared with 42% of Michigan’s young adults overall.

“As Michigan strives to grow our population and create a stronger sense of belonging for people who live in our state, it is critical that we address inequities through policy change,” said Stanton. “When it comes to funding and supporting education, we must make deliberate choices to make sure that the next generation of students has the tools and resources they need to get ahead regardless of race, ZIP code or income.”

Another area of progress in Michigan concerned children living in two-parent households, which MLPP says statistically have more resources and are more financially secure than single-parent households. While the increase applied to Black, American Indian or Alaskan Native, Asian and Pacific Islander, and Hispanic children, as well as children who identify as two or more races, white children were the only group for which this indicator worsened.

The methodology utilized by the Race for Results report standardizes scores across 12 indicators that represent well-being milestones from cradle to career. Those scores are converted to a scale ranging from 0 to 1,000 to more easily compare differences across states and racial and ethnic groups. Indicators are grouped into four areas: early childhood, education and early work experiences, family resources, and neighborhood context.

Across all 50 states, the index demonstrated experiences vary widely depending on where a child lives, from a high of 877 for Asian and Pacific Islander children in New Jersey to a low of 180 for American Indian or Alaska Native children in South Dakota.

“Young people are missing critical developmental milestones as a direct result of choices to fail to invest in policies, programs, and services that support children, especially in under-resourced communities and communities of color,” said a by the Annie E. Casey Foundation.

As an example of policy decisions that can have almost immediate impact, the report points to the time-limited expansion of the federal child tax credit initiated in the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic. While most of the families temporarily lifted out of poverty were families of color, the policy also improved financial stability for families of all racial and ethnic groups.

“The expanded child tax credit’s success in providing a more stable foundation for children is an example of the innovative solutions American leaders can develop when they follow data and evidence and act with deliberate speed,” said the report.

Race for Results provides several recommendations toward improving outcomes for all children:

• Congress should expand the federal Child Tax Credit (CTC). The temporary, pandemic-era expansion of the CTC lifted , with the share of kids in poverty falling to 5.2% in 2021, the lowest rate on record.States and Congress should expand the Earned Income Tax Credit (Michigan did this in 2023).
• Lawmakers should consider baby bonds and children’s savings accounts — programs that contribute public funds to dedicated accounts to help families save for their children’s future.
• Policymakers must create targeted programs and policies that can close well-being gaps for young people of color, because universal policies are important but insufficient for continued progress.

is part of States Newsroom, a network of news bureaus supported by grants and a coalition of donors as a 501c(3) public charity. Michigan Advance maintains editorial independence. Contact Editor Susan Demas for questions: info@michiganadvance.com. Follow Michigan Advance on and .

, the pivotal Supreme Court decision that made school segregation unconstitutional, turns 70 years old on May 17, 2024.

At the time of the 1954 ruling, 17 U.S. states had laws permitting or requiring racially segregated schools. The Brown decision declared that segregation in public schools was “inherently unequal.” This was, in part, because the court argued that access to equitable, nonsegregated education played a critical role in creating informed citizens – for the political establishment amid the Cold War. With Brown, the justices overturned decades of that kept Black Americans in .

As a professor of education and demography at Penn State University, I research . I’m aware that, after several decades of , the upcoming Brown vs. Board of Education anniversary comes at an especially uncertain moment for public education and efforts to make America’s schools reflect the nation’s multiracial society.

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Recent setbacks

In June 2023, the Supreme Court efforts. The decision followed the COVID-19 pandemic, which in the U.S.

Meanwhile, politicians and school boards have banned or removed books by from school libraries and restricted teaching about . I believe these legal setbacks amid the current political climate make finally realizing the full promise of Brown more urgent.

Resistance to Brown ruling

The Brown vs. Board of Education decision did not immediately change the nation’s public schools, especially in the completely segregated South, where there was . Resistance was so fierce in the first decade after Brown that compliance with desegregation orders at times required to escort to enroll in formerly all-white schools.

It would be a decade after Brown before the federal courts, a newly enacted and expanded federal education funding spurred .

While only 2% of Southern Black K-12 students attended majority white schools in 1964 – 10 years after Brown – the number had by 1970. The South surpassed all other regions in desegregation progress for Black students.

Segregation persists

Public school students today are the most racially diverse in U.S. history. At the time of Brown, about and most other students were Black.

Today, according to a , 46% of public school students are white, 28% are Hispanic, 15% are Black, 6% Asian, 4% multiracial and 1% American Indian. Based on my analysis of 2021 federal education data, public schools in 22 states and Washington, D.C., served majorities of students of color.

And yet, public schools are deeply segregated. In 2021, approximately 60% of Black and Hispanic public school students attended schools where were students of color. Black and Hispanic students who attend racially segregated schools also are overwhelmingly enrolled in .

A , a nonprofit that produced reports on school funding inequities, found that schools in predominantly nonwhite districts received $23 billion less in funding each year than schools in majority white districts. This equates to roughly $2,200 less per student per year. Unequal funding results in , to name just one example.

Benefits of diversity

While Brown was an attempt to address the inequality that students experienced in segregated Black schools, the harms of segregation affect students of all races.

Racially integrated schools are associated with , or simply building that teach children how to work effectively with others.

White students are the to students of other races and ethnicities, and therefore they often miss out on the benefits of diversity. Nearly half of white public school students attend a school in which white students are 75% or more of the student body.

Factors that exacerbate segregation

Although residential segregation is , many U.S. communities remain both . Segregated schools, therefore, often reflect segregated neighborhoods.

However, how students are assigned to schools and districts can play a key role in how segregated those schools are.

This is because school attendance boundaries often determine which local public school a student may attend. How those boundaries are drawn or redrawn can exacerbate or alleviate school segregation. More than that are predominantly of one race are located within 10 miles of a school that is predominantly of another race.

Studies show that within school districts could make a substantial number of schools less segregated.

The same is true when it comes to school district boundaries. A high level of income and racial segregation also exists . And district secession – when schools leave an existing school district to – is . Redrawing district boundaries or preventing the formation of new boundaries could affect segregation.

Another key factor is the rise of public school choice, which allows parents to send children to charter schools or other schools beyond their zoned school. One study found that areas with more students enrolled in charter schools were associated with .

Potential solutions

Several hundred , which require districts to eradicate segregation that existed prior to the Brown decision, still exist. These are largely concentrated in some Southern states.

For the rest of the country, efforts are attempts to finally achieve the goals of the Brown decision. These include Berkeley, California’s and legal cases brought against states that challenge existing segregation under .

Finally, since reducing residential segregation could also reduce school segregation, some efforts have combined and policies. Connecticut, for example, has piloted for eligible participants in its interdistrict school desegregation program.

Like 70 years ago when Brown was decided, addressing public school segregation remains important for a healthy democracy – one that today is more multiracial than ever before.

Walter Lanier stood before a packed room at the Milwaukee County Zoo in May and repeated his mantra: “We have to be organized.

The room was filled with Black leaders — mostly men — from government, nonprofits and academic institutions. The leaders knew all too well that, year after year, studies have ranked the Milwaukee metropolitan area the worst place to live if you’re Black.

Those studies have cited Wisconsin’s dramatic , deep racial disparities in income and educational achievement and a legacy of redlining that made Milwaukee one of the nation’s most segregated major cities.

But Lanier, a pastor and community leader who also has , announced plans to change the narrative by changing the reality — particularly for Black men.

Since 2022, Lanier has served as president and CEO of the African American Leadership Alliance Milwaukee. The nonprofit aims to make Milwaukee a top city for Black residents by 2025 and serves as the backbone for its latest push to narrow wide achievement gaps for Black men and boys.

Doing so, Lanier told the gathering, would require all-hands-on-deck cooperation among nonprofits, civic groups and government.

“All over the city and all over the county, we have all types of stuff going on,” Lanier said. “We haven’t been as organized and connected as we need to be.”

It’s hardly Milwaukee’s first effort to boost the achievement of Black boys and men.

Responding to a nationwide challenge by then-President Barack Obama, city leaders launched an initiative to “address the multitude of challenges” that disadvantage Black men and boys in Milwaukee. That initiative sparked the creation of a Black Male Achievement Advisory Council to set a policy agenda, provide a funding apparatus and coordinate groups striving toward similar goals.

But the initiative fizzled without measurable results, and the council stopped meeting in 2021 — during a mayoral transition and a COVID-19 pandemic that disproportionately harmed Black residents.

Some suggest the effort fell victim to a culture in Milwaukee where ideas often languish without public commitment and coordination. But city leaders are optimistic a new effort under new leadership will yield progress.

Already Lanier’s group has helped Milwaukee gain certification within the Obama Foundation’s My Brother’s Keeper Alliance network, allowing leaders to learn from other communities seeking to improve the lives of men of color.

“Things are changing,” Milwaukee County Executive David Crowley told Wisconsin Watch. “How do we have diversity of thought, diversity of people to really help us move the needle when it comes down to eliminating the racial disparities and the health disparities that we see in Milwaukee County?”

Black Male Achievement Advisory Council

Milwaukee has sought to address barriers for Black males since the 1980s, by which point all of the region’s job growth had shifted to the suburbs.

First came the Milwaukee African American Male Task Force, which led to the creation of African American immersion schools. Then the Milwaukee Parental School Choice Program, which provides funding for children to attend private school. Later was the Milwaukee Fatherhood Collaborative, which advocated for fathers’ rights and for more involvement with their children. The Milwaukee African American Male Unemployment Task Force was among other groups to come.

But the Black Male Achievement Advisory Council, created by a 2013 city ordinance, promised to be different.

Joe Davis Sr., a Common Council member at the time, spearheaded the plan to bring all such efforts under one umbrella to recommend policies and track progress through measurable data.

Following decades of “stealth depression,” Milwaukee was among the top 10 poorest U.S. cities, with 38% of its Black population living below the poverty level and deep disparities between Black and white males.

Only 3% of Black male eighth graders at the time read at or above grade level, 45% graduated on time from high school, and firearm homicide was the leading cause of death for ages 11 to 39 years old.

The National League of Cities, which supports local governments, agreed to assist Milwaukee with data tracking and coaching to reduce racial disparities in education, work and family outcomes.

Business, philanthropic and faith-based leaders joined city, school and police officials in monthly meetings of the Black Male Achievement Advisory Council.

“I cannot recall a time in the city where there was as much energy and cohesiveness across political lines — across business and municipal government, philanthropy partners all speaking and agreeing about a pathway forward — to address this issue,” former Common Council member Ashanti Hamilton told Wisconsin Watch.

The city budget at the time had allocated $100,000 in the council’s first year to fund initiatives supporting Black males.

But tension arose between Davis and then-Mayor Tom Barrett, the council’s co-chairs, before the council reached its first anniversary.

After the city allocated an additional $300,000 in federal Community Development Block Grant dollars to support the council’s goals, Davis called for a larger investment.

“Unfortunately, what I’m finding is that the mayor is not interested in taking a risk or claiming this particular issue on behalf of Black men and boys,” Davis said during a 2014 Common Council meeting.

The frustrations prompted Davis to resign as council co-chair that year. Speaking to Wisconsin Watch, he called Barrett “an obstructionist” who didn’t want to offend other residents by addressing challenges for Black males.

Barrett, now a U.S. ambassador to Luxembourg, did not respond to interview requests for this story.

Obama issues My Brother’s Keeper challenge

But in 2015 the council saw an opportunity in Obama’s My Brother’s Keeper initiative, launched two years after the Florida reignited national discussions about the life-and-death barriers Black males face.

Obama challenged local officials to build “My Brother’s Keepers Communities” by ensuring Black boys enter school ready to learn, read at grade level by third grade, graduate from high school, complete postsecondary education or training and remain safe from violent crime.

Milwaukee officials joined nearly 200 mayors, tribal leaders and county executives across 43 states and the District of Columbia who have accepted the challenge.

In 2015 Barrett and Hamilton, who succeeded Davis as Black Male Achievement Advisory Council co-chair, created a five-year plan focused on 10 priorities for males of color:

• Increase high school graduation rates and readiness for college and/or the workplace.
• Increase rates of graduation from post-secondary education or job training.
• Increase rates of employee retention and promotion.
• Make workplaces attractive and accessible.
• Improve the administration of justice.
• Increase capacity to combat violence and victimization.
• Protect physical, emotional, mental and spiritual wellness.
• Fuel creativity and entrepreneurship.
• Establish alternative community-based institutions to sustain achievement.
• Increase representation and participation in decision-making bodies and processes across all sectors.

The city laid out a variety of more specific goals in the plan, ranging from increasing graduation rates for students of color by at least 0.5% annually to boosting Black male voter registration rates by at least 3% annually.

While Hamilton cautioned against becoming frozen in a “search for perfection,” some council members worried about a lack of measurable metrics attached to several items. The Black Male Achievement Advisory Council allocated $50,000 to the Center for Self-Sufficiency to evaluate the plan’s metrics.

Carl Wesley, the center’s president and CEO at the time, told Wisconsin Watch he ran into brick walls while trying to collect baseline data from various entities relevant to the council’s efforts, and many of the plan’s goals were vague.

“It had things in there, like increase from this to that, but no one knew where they were to increase from,” he said.

The center couldn’t complete the project, so it didn’t get paid, Wesley said.

In 2018 the city joined Milwaukee Public Schools, Employ Milwaukee and the local United Way chapter in seeking funding from the My Brother’s Keeper Community Challenge competition, which required an action plan and a protocol for tracking data and benchmarks.

The application did not draw funding. My Brother’s Keeper instead named Milwaukee a “Community to Watch.”

Local officials at the time acknowledged Milwaukee’s lack of progress on improving outcomes for Black males. While the city saw increased engagement around such issues, it didn’t translate into lower crime rates or higher graduation rates.

“Many grassroots and nonprofit organizations make claim to a number of programs and initiatives that support Black men and boys, but operate in silos with inadequate resources and no unifying measures to reinforce efforts between them to collectively move the needle on outcomes,” Jeff Roman, a consultant who later directed the Milwaukee County Office of Equity, . “Where substantial investments are being made, little information exists on actual impacts, and the information that does exist suggests that little improvement is being made.”

The national a “strong city administration commitment to Black men and boys,” while showing a need for more targeted funding and better participation and coordination among government, nonprofits and other groups invested in Black male achievement.

The city’s Black Male Achievement Advisory Council stopped meeting in 2021 as Cavalier Johnson replaced Barrett as mayor and COVID-19 disrupted life.

“There was no individual person to pick it up and keep it moving,” Hamilton said, calling for leaders to make long-term commitments to things they say they care about.

Depending on municipal government to oversee initiatives carries risks, said Shawn Dove, former CEO of the Campaign for Black Male Achievement, which worked with Milwaukee leaders. Political leaders often change, as do their commitments. Housing an initiative outside of government — but still inviting municipal leaders to participate — can bring more stability, he said.

Whether Johnson will revive the council remains unclear. His office did not respond to Wisconsin Watch’s repeated requests for an interview. Nor did José Pérez, the Common Council president.

Nate Deans, the director of Milwaukee Public Schools’ Department of Black and Latino Male Achievement, hopes the council resumes.

The creation of his department, which provides mentors to 500 Black and Latino male students, resulted from the council’s recommendations.

“It’ll streamline the work that much more if we’re all at least meeting,” Deans said.

Christopher Walton Jr., who briefly served on the council before it stopped meeting, said restarting meetings could help.

“It’s a disservice to the community and to young Black males that we don’t have people putting their hand back on that to get that moving again,” he said. “And so I would definitely love to see that brought back up in full force and get moving again.”

‘Community to watch’ to certified city

Regardless, Lanier and the African American Leadership Alliance are forging ahead. He didn’t want Milwaukee’s My Brother’s Keeper plan to go to waste.

He called it a well-designed plan that was insufficiently resourced.

Lanier said he’s forming partnerships to strengthen the plan, with a focus on education, employment and anti-violence.

“We’re doing work in all of those areas in Milwaukee, but it’s segregated and fragmented and siloed,” Lanier said. “As a result, we don’t present as well as we could externally.”

That has included working with Johnson and Crowley to gain certification within the My Brother’s Keeper Alliance network, allowing Milwaukee’s leaders to learn from other communities that have improved the lives of males of color.

They include cities like Newark, New Jersey, and Omaha, Nebraska. Newark’s homicides plunged by 55% from 2013 to 2021, and Omaha’s homicides dropped by 30% from 2011 to 2022 due to cross-community collaboration, according to the My Brother’s Keeper Alliance. In Tulsa, Oklahoma, enrollment for students of color in pre-kindergarten increased by 33% from 2013 to  2019, and in Yonkers, the city now has New York’s highest graduation rate for students of color: 91%, according to the alliance.

Lanier hopes My Brother’s Keeper will ultimately certify the state as well. That’s the case in Ohio, where and community members partner on best practices for boosting Black male achievement.

Marquette University’s Center for Urban Research, Teaching, and Outreach is helping Lanier identify metrics and compile data to populate a citywide dashboard to track the progress of Black male achievement. The center, which has worked with Lanier for several years, has identified and institutions working on equity issues.

Lanier envisions a future Milwaukee where Black people thrive. That will require making measurable progress and changing narratives in Milwaukee.

“Because if we open that door for us, just like everything else, that door is open for everybody else,” Lanier said at the May gathering. “It’s my job to get it done.”

Learn more

Those wanting to learn more about the African American Leadership Alliance’s collaboration to improve Black male achievement in Milwaukee can sign up for updates .

Editor’s note: Bevin Christie, project manager for Wisconsin Watch’s News414 service journalism collaboration with Milwaukee Neighborhood News Service, has worked as a consultant with the African American Leadership Alliance of Milwaukee. 

The nonprofit Wisconsin Watch () collaborates with Milwaukee Neighborhood News Service, WPR, PBS Wisconsin, other news media and the University of Wisconsin-Madison School of Journalism and Mass Communication. All works created, published, posted or disseminated by Wisconsin Watch do not necessarily reflect the views or opinions of UW-Madison or any of its affiliates.

This first appeared on and is republished here under a Creative Commons license.