California lawmakers are proposing steps to protect K-12 students and families from mass deportations — although the real value of those proposals may be symbolic.

A pair of bills in the Legislature —  and  — aim to keep federal agents from detaining undocumented students or their families on or near school property without a warrant. The bills are a response to President-elect Donald Trump’s threat to deport undocumented immigrants, a move which could have major consequences for schools in California, which funds its schools based on attendance and where  have at least one undocumented parent.

Both bills would make it harder and more time-consuming for agents to enter schools or day care centers. But they can only delay, not stop, arrests. 

“In no way can these bills override federal law,” said Kevin Johnson, a law professor at UC Davis. “But the bills respond to a great concern in the community that it’s not safe to take your children to school. … I can’t emphasize enough how important this is, how vulnerable undocumented immigrants feel right now.”

“In no way can these bills override federal law,” said Kevin Johnson, a law professor at UC Davis. “But the bills respond to a great concern in the community that it’s not safe to take your children to school. … I can’t emphasize enough how important this is, how vulnerable undocumented immigrants feel right now.”

AB 49, proposed by Assemblymember Al Muratsuchi, a Democrat from Torrance, would require immigration agents to obtain written permission from the superintendent before coming onto school property. It also bars agents from being in rooms where children are present. SB 48, introduced by Sen. Lena Gonzalez, a Democrat from Long Beach, would prohibit local police from cooperating with federal agents — such as assisting in arrests or providing information about families’ immigration status — within one mile of a school. It also bars schools from sharing student and family information with federal authorities. 

School districts have also doubled down on their efforts to protect students and families. Los Angeles Unified has partnered with legal aid organizations to assist families and instructed schools not to ask students about their immigration status. San Francisco Unified has .

“(San Francisco Unified) is a safe haven for all students regardless of citizenship status,” Superintendent Maria Su wrote to the community after the November election. “SFUSD restates our position that all students have the right to attend school regardless of their immigration status or that of their family members.”

Schools as safe havens

Schools have long been safe havens for immigrant students. Under a , public schools must enroll all students regardless of their immigration status and can’t charge tuition to students who aren’t legal residents. And since 2011, discourage agents from making immigration arrests at schools, hospitals, churches, courthouses and other “sensitive locations.”

But Trump said he plans to  guidelines, and the Heritage Foundation, which published the right-leaning Project 2025 manifesto, is encouraging states to . That could set up the possible overturn of the Supreme Court decision guaranteeing access to school for undocumented students. The foundation’s rationale is that government agencies such as schools are already overburdened and need to prioritize services for U.S. citizens.

“The (Biden) administration’s new version of America is nothing more than an open-border welfare state,” Lora Ries, director of the Heritage Foundation’s Border Security and Immigration Center, . “No country can sustain or survive such a vision.”

Muratsuchi, chair of the Assembly Education Committee, said he was inspired to author AB 49 just after the election, when he listened to the concerns of immigrant students in the political science class he teaches at El Camino Community College in Torrance. 

“It became clear there was more and more fear among my students, not only for themselves but for their families. The fear of families being torn apart is very real,” Muratuschi said. “We want to send a strong message to our immigrant students that we’re going to do everything we can to protect them.”

‘Too scared to speak up’

For most undocumented families, deportation would mean a plunging into poverty and in many cases, violence. Nahomi, a high school senior in Fresno County whom CalMatters is identifying by her middle name because of her immigration status, described the threat of deportation as “a major worry for my family and I. Our lives could change completely in a blink of an eye.”

Nahomi and her parents arrived in California in 2011 from the city of Culiacan in Sinaloa, Mexico, an area plagued by . They initially planned to stay until Sinaloa became safer, but once they settled in the Central Valley they decided the risks of returning outweighed the risk of deportation, so they stayed. Nahomi’s father works in construction and her mother is a homemaker, raising Nahomi and her younger sister.

While she and her family fear deportation, Nahomi is not afraid to attend school. She said schools can help families know their rights and help children feel safe.

“I feel very welcomed and safe there,” she said. “It is a very diverse high school and I just feel like any other student. … (But) a lot of these families are probably too scared to speak up about doubts they might have.”

Politically unpopular?

Patricia Gándara, an education professor and co-director of the Civil Rights Project at UCLA, said the risk of federal agents arresting students at schools is probably small. It’s unclear how many children in K-12 schools are undocumented, but it’s probably a relatively small number, she said. In any case, immigration enforcement that affects children almost always sparks public outcry from both parties, she said. 

“Some people might say they’re anti-immigrant, but it’s another thing entirely when the family up the street, whom they’ve known for 20 years, suddenly gets deported, or your kid’s best friend gets deported,” said Gandara, who’s studied the topic extensively. “It’s politically very unpopular.”

Still, the proposed bills could send a powerful message that schools are safe places, she said. Immigration crackdowns can have a , a Stanford study found, which can lead to less funding for schools, particularly low-income schools that enroll large numbers of immigrant children. 

Immigration crackdowns can also lead to an increase in bullying, anxiety and general uncertainty on campus, not just for immigrant children but for everyone, Gándara said. Teachers, in particular, experience high levels of stress when their students’ safety is endangered, she said. 

“Schools are one of the last places immigrant families feel safe,” she said. “But as soon as (federal agents) move into schools, they’re not so safe any more. These bills say, ‘We’re not going to sit back and let this happen. Not all of government is against you.”

California ‘one of the best places to be’

Both bills are awaiting hearings in the Legislature. Tammy Lin, supervising attorney with the University of San Diego Immigration Clinic, expects California to continue to take steps to protect undocumented families, but political conflicts will be inevitable.

The incoming Trump administration is likely to battle California and other left-leaning states over immigration matters. Even within California, conflicts are likely to erupt between state leaders and those in more conservative regions, or even between agencies in the same area. In San Diego County, for example, the Board of Supervisors ordered the sheriff’s office to not notify federal immigration officers when it releases suspected undocumented inmates from jail, but the . 

Lin also said she wouldn’t be surprised if there’s an attempt to overturn the Supreme Court ruling guaranteeing education to undocumented children, potentially paving the way for other immigrants’ rights to be reversed. 

“It’s a slippery slope,” Lin said. “Immigrants know this, which is why there’s immense fear and uncertainty right now. But bills like these show that California is still one of the best places you can be.”

Suriyah Jones, a member of the CalMatters Youth Journalism Initiative, contributed to this story.

This was originally published on .

In 1953, Bárbara Flores entered kindergarten at Washington Elementary School in Madera, California, a small city in the Central Valley surrounded by farm fields. Her mother and grandmother had talked it up: You’re going to learn a lot. You’re going to like it. She believed them. A little girl who would one day become a teacher, Flores was excited.

But only until she got there.

“I walked out,” Flores recalled recently. She got to her grandmother’s house a few blocks away, furious. “Son mentirosas,” she said. “No entiendo nada. Y jamas voy a regresar.” You’re liars. I don’t understand anything. And I’m never going back.

Flores only spoke Spanish. As the grandchild of Mexican immigrants, she didn’t find her language or culture welcome in the school. But little Bárbara didn’t get her way. And, after depositing her daughter back in the classroom, Flores’ mother asked the teacher a question: Aren’t you paying attention? My daughter walked out. The answer felt like a slap and became a part of family lore. All these little Mexican girls look alike. I didn’t notice.

Flores returned to her old school this fall; the building she walked out of still stands, but almost everything else has changed. Now students speak Spanish because their teachers require them to. Little Mexican girls see their culture celebrated on the walls of every classroom.

Washington students will graduate knowing how to speak, read and write in both Spanish and English, joining a growing number of “dual-language immersion” schools in California. Flores’ eyes open wide as she describes the about-face her alma mater has taken.

“We were punished for speaking Spanish,” she said. “We were hit with rulers, pinched, our braids were pulled. Now the whole school is dual-language.”

The path has not been linear. When Flores was a child, California still had an English-only law on the books from the 1800s. As governor, Ronald Reagan signed a bill eliminating it. Then the Civil Rights Movement ushered in a new era of bilingual education, and the California Legislature went further, requiring the model for students still learning English from 1976 until the anti-immigrant backlash of the 1990s. Voters banned it again in 1998, only reversing the latest prohibition in 2016.

Researchers have found bilingual education helps students learn English faster and can boost their standardized test scores, increase graduation rates, better prepare them for college and much more. California has removed the official barriers to offering this type of instruction since 2016, and the state now champions bilingualism and biliteracy, encouraging all students to strive for both. But eight years after repeal, California schools have yet to recover. A decades-long enrollment slump in bilingual-teacher prep programs has led to a decimated teacher pipeline. And underinvestment by the Legislature, paired with a hamstrung state Education Department, has limited the pace of bilingual education’s comeback. 

The result? A rare case in which Californians can say Texas is inspiring. Both states enroll more than 1 million students still learning English — but last year, the Lone Star State put 40% of them in bilingual classrooms. California managed that for just 10%.

In 1987, Flores didn’t think state policy would go this way. At the time, both states required bilingual education. She was a professor, helping build a bilingual-education teacher prep program at Cal State San Bernardino. Her home state could have kept pace with Texas.

But it didn’t.

The English-only years: 1998 to 2016

By 1998, the bilingual-teacher prep program was flourishing. Flores helped aspiring teachers understand how students learn to read and write in two languages, sending them off into classrooms with binders full of instructional tips. Her daughter, then 10, was learning both English and Spanish through bilingual classes in the San Bernardino City Unified School District. Flores was on a parent committee organizing broader support for such programs in the face of a statewide campaign to get rid of them, bankrolled by Silicon Valley entrepreneur Ron Unz.

Proposition 227, which passed with 61% of the vote, required schools to teach only in English with students who were still learning the language, something that may sound like a good idea but often ends up unnecessarily putting students’ grade-level learning of other subjects on pause while they master English. Flores saw the impact immediately. Faculty on campus called for the elimination of her program, an effort that ultimately failed but showed, she said, “the intensity of the discrimination and language racism that was prevalent.” Enrollment in bilingual-teacher prep programs across the state plummeted.

Flores also watched local school districts respond. “I was shocked at superintendents in the area,” she said. “They just made everybody throw away their Spanish books. It was horrendous.” As she recalls, every single school district in the Inland Empire got rid of its bilingual programs except San Bernardino City Unified, where parent activism helped ensure the district took advantage of an exception to the new law.

Dual-language students outperform their peers in San Bernardino City Unified

At the time, student achievement data from San Bernardino City Unified had shown that bilingual programs were helping kids succeed. And over the next two decades, researchers studying programs across the United States released a steady stream of evidence about the benefits of bilingual education, especially a version called “dual language.” Traditional bilingual education essentially lets students use their first language while they learn English. Once students become fluent, their schools shift entirely to English instruction, which was the goal all along. Dual-language programs, by contrast, set bilingualism as the goal. Students continue to take courses in Spanish or another language for about half of the school day until they leave the program.

While dual-language programs often stop after elementary school, the “” stretches through students’ K-12 years and into their working lives. Dual-language students have been found to score higher than their peers on both  and exams by middle school. They also get higher scores  in high school, setting them up to be more competitive in college admissions. And importantly, a team at Stanford found that native Spanish speakers were more likely to test out of English-learner services , a coveted goal because of how well “former English learners” do. University of Chicago researchers just released data showing that Chicago high schoolers in this group had  GPAs and SAT scores, high school graduation rates, and community college enrollment and persistence rates.

Patricia Gándara co-directs the UCLA Civil Rights Project, which has published similar findings, and has spent decades of her career cataloging the bilingual advantage. She laments the narrow value placed on bilingual education in the U.S., where it has historically been pursued as a way to help kids who don’t speak English learn the language more quickly and then succeed in English-only classes.

“That’s a very shortsighted view,” Gándara said, “particularly from the research that we’ve done that shows kids who get a strong bilingual education are more likely to go to college, they’re more likely to complete college, they’re more likely to have better jobs and better opportunities.”

Yet while policymakers didn’t catch on right away, well-off and well-educated white parents did, seeing the economic benefits of bilingualism for their children very clearly.

Glendale Unified School District launched its first Spanish-English dual-language program in 2003, going on to add programs in six other languages while official state policy was to ban them. Last year, 85% of the students enrolled were fluent English speakers, according to program director Nancy Hong.

Immigrant families, weighed down by the pressure to speak English and make sure their children do too, have been hard to recruit. Hong said immigrant parents have long been concerned that letting their children spend half the school day or more hearing their home language will get in the way of learning English, even though research has shown it can make the whole process go faster. “The goal is to dismantle those myths and misperceptions,” she said. But even though about 20% of students districtwide are English learners, only about 10% of them are in dual-language programs.

Many immigrant families, however, have become strong advocates for the programs. José Sanjas, a Mexican-born father in Madera Unified School District, takes his 6-year-old daughter past her neighborhood school every day en route to one of the district’s dual-language programs. He and his wife want to preserve their native language as their daughter grows up here, but the draw isn’t only personal; Sanjas also sees how bilingualism will benefit his daughter in the workplace.

“She can help more people in the future,” Sanjas said. “Professionally, she’ll be able to serve everyone.”

Spurred on by support like his, a diverse coalition of school leaders in Madera Unified had, by 2016, come to see dual-language education as key to turning around the district’s chronically low performance, especially among the children of immigrants. Flores had helped make the case, inviting school board members to the annual conference of the California Association for Bilingual Education. And in Flores’ hometown, U.S.-born, white families were among those speaking up in support of the programs, knowing even if the immigrant students’ test scores had the most room to grow, their children could benefit too.

Statewide, public opinion had swung in the other direction; that November, about 74% of California voters said yes to Proposition 58, officially allowing bilingual education back in California classrooms.

“It was a relief we [could] finally move forward for our children,” Flores said. “We lost a whole generation of kids — quite a few generations, really — because of English-only.” 

The next generation, however, is still waiting.

A limping recovery: 2016 to 2024

Flores spent 40 years training future teachers before retiring in 2019. Across three institutions and 32 years at Cal State San Bernardino, she likely taught 10,000 students, many of whom remain sprinkled throughout the state’s bilingual-education system. But if anything defines the legacy of Prop. 227, it is the shattered teacher pipeline it left in its wake.

Gándara, of the UCLA Civil Rights Project, said the current state of affairs is “one of those stories of ‘I told you so.’ … I could see what the problem was going to be: that when people came back to their senses and realized what a mistake this was, the big fallout was going to be that we didn’t have the teachers.” 

California colleges are not producing nearly enough teachers to meet the state’s bilingual-education goals. During the 2022-23 school year, the state commission on teacher credentialing only authorized 1,011 new bilingual teachers — . Only seven went to teachers who speak Vietnamese, the  in California schools that year. And it actually gave out fewer credentials to Spanish-speaking teachers that year than in the three years prior.

The Legislature has not ignored this problem entirely. In 2017, it funded six grants, totaling $20 million, to help districts coach up bilingual staffers and prepare them to lead bilingual classrooms. But Edgar Lampkin, CEO of the California Association for Bilingual Education, said seeding such “grow your own” programs falls far short of addressing the statewide need. “That’s not systemic,” he said.

In 2022, the National Resource Center for Asian Languages, based at Cal State Fullerton, got state money to train 200 teachers over five years. They’re on track, and the center’s director, Natalie Tran, is proud that their programs are not only increasing the number of teachers certified to teach in Asian languages, but also diversifying the languages they speak. She expects to certify teachers who speak Tagalog, Hmong and Khmer this school year. Still, she said, the state needs to do more to train additional teachers of Asian languages, including the less common ones. “We’re going to need help from policymakers to make this happen,” Tran said.

She isn’t the only one calling on lawmakers to be part of the solution. Anya Hurwitz is executive director of SEAL, a nonprofit that got its start as an initiative of the Sobrato Family Foundation to address achievement gaps between immigrant and native-born children in Silicon Valley. She says the state underfunds education, which gets in the way of doing what’s best for kids who don’t speak English.

In 2022, the last year for which  is available, New York spent almost $30,000 per student. California spent about $17,000. And besides its support for teacher training, the Legislature has only given districts  extra to start or expand dual-language programs. In Massachusetts, home to about one-tenth the number of kids still learning English, the Legislature disbursed $11.8 million for the same work, kicking off its own recovery from an English-only law.

“Funding is not the solution to everything in and of itself,” Hurwitz said, “but at the same time, we can’t build capacity without funding and resources.”

Back in Flores’ hometown, Madera administrators have been able to use state and federal money earmarked for their sizable number of immigrant families and those living in poverty to achieve their dual-language goals. But startup costs for dual-language programs are expensive. Teacher preparation programs, Superintendent Todd Lile said, are not producing graduates who are ready to do this work, leaving districts like his with steep professional development costs.

A residency program with Cal State Fresno has given Madera a solid pipeline of teachers, but the recent grads have to clear all the usual hurdles of being new to the profession while also adapting to using Spanish in the classroom. While these new hires at Washington Elementary School grew up bilingual, they went to school through the Prop. 227 years, meaning most of them didn’t develop an academic vocabulary in Spanish.

Viviana Valerio, a kindergarten teacher, said that history made bilingual education an intimidating proposition. “I commonly speak Spanish at home, but then when I was thinking about teaching, I was thinking, ‘OK, academic terms, I don’t know how to translate that,’ or ‘Parents ask me a question and I can’t think of it, I’m going to want to transition into English,’” she said. “For me, that was the scary part.”

Texas, too, lacks bilingual-education teachers, echoing a shortage present in much of the country, but the state is far ahead of California; many districts are able to recruit their own alumni because their programs have been around so long. Texas also continues to invest in bilingual education, helping districts comply with state mandates to offer it. Like California, Texas gives districts more per-pupil funding for every student still learning English; unlike California, Texas offers an additional premium for each of them enrolled in a dual-language program.

As an extra incentive to start and maintain these programs, Texas has started bumping up funding for the native English speakers enrolled too. Research shows the programs work better when classes are evenly split between native English speakers and speakers of the program’s second language. Then, not only are students learning their second language from the teacher but from their peers as well. Conveniently, this also makes for more integrated classrooms, something Gándara said California needs.

“We haven’t been able to take advantage of that, in large part because people don’t pay attention to that as a major issue and also because we don’t have the teachers to pull it off,” Gándara said.

Indeed, districts across the state cite staffing as a major barrier to starting or expanding their programs. Some have gone abroad to recruit. Others have been forced to scrap their plans entirely. Newark Unified School District, in the Bay Area, got rid of its dual-language program this year because it couldn’t find teachers to staff it. “We tried everything,” said Karen Allard, assistant superintendent of education services.

For more than a decade now, the state’s Education Department has tried to champion bilingual programs. Students who can prove their fluency in two languages before graduation get a special seal on their diplomas. The department also implores schools to help the children of immigrants maintain their home language while learning English, building that recommendation into its 2017 . By 2030, it wants half of California students on a path to .

Yet all of this largely amounts to cheerleading. The department is , a result of the state’s commitment to sending almost all K-12 funding directly to school districts, and its support for bilingual education has not come with any firm demands.

Conor Williams, a senior fellow at The Century Foundation, a progressive think tank based in Washington, D.C., recently found himself — a self-described “professional lefty” — in the surprising position of . Besides following Texas’ lead on funding, he said, California should rethink teacher licensing. The state requires college graduates to pass a suite of tests to become teachers, but Williams points out the tests don’t lead to better instruction and can keep good teachers from classrooms. Getting rid of the requirement could bring more bilingual adults into the profession and expand the teacher pipeline.

Hard to overcome, however, is California’s shift toward more local control over schooling. Williams doesn’t always agree with what the Texas education department does with its power, but the state’s centralized approach means it has “enough power and muscle and will to set rules and hold districts to them,” he said. California’s  is widely popular and has ensured districts get more state money to serve students still learning English as well as those in foster care and low-income households. But, Williams points out, local control has its limits.

“You don’t win civil rights battles by leaving it up to local school boards,” he said.

Still, districts like Madera are moving ahead on their own. In 2020, Flores’ alma mater, Washington Elementary, became Madera Unified’s second dual-language school, welcoming its first class of kindergartners who are expected to leave proficient in both English and Spanish.

Mateo Diaz Zanjas was one of them. He’s now a fourth-grader and speaks in easy Spanish about the school and his long-term dream of going to Harvard. Upon hearing that he and his peers speak very good Spanish, he eagerly replies: “We also speak good English.” And he proves it, going on to answer questions in English about his favorite subjects and the languages he speaks with certain friends.

Administrators, however, are still waiting for the data to show that their bet on bilingual education will pay off in student achievement gains. The pandemic interrupted their early years and set them back, and the oldest students aren’t doing as well as district leaders would have hoped. Commitment to the programs, however, has not waivered. Students’ overall test scores remain low, but their growth scores — or how much they learn over the course of the year — are high.

The district is helping students learn English more quickly, too, meaning they are becoming “former English learners” faster with the newer supports and joining the district’s highest-performing student group.

In the meantime, Madera teachers are using bilingual education to give Spanish speakers grade-level material, knowing that once they sharpen their English skills, all that information will transfer.

“Kids can learn math in Spanish; it’s still math,” Lile said. “They can learn social studies in Spanish; it’s still history and geography. These subject matters don’t exist only in English.” 

During Flores’ recent visit to Madera Unified, she heard Lile describe his long-term goals for the district, including higher graduation rates and better college readiness for the children of immigrants. She looked on proudly, sure her hometown district was finally getting it right.

An uncertain future: 2024 and beyond

A few years ago, Flores introduced Lile to Margarita Machado-Casas, a professor at San Diego State’s Department of Dual Language and English Learner Education, which has long been a top producer of the state’s bilingual teachers. Machado-Casas is helping the district figure out what concrete steps teachers and administrators should take to follow the high-level recommendations of the state’s English Learner Roadmap. They started out with “Principle 1,” which asks school and district staffers to see immigrant students’ language and culture as assets rather than seeing their lack of English proficiency as a deficit. Pointing to Madera’s long and painful history of discriminating against immigrant students, including Flores, Machado-Casas said this principle unexpectedly took the entire first year, requiring “courageous conversations” — including asking staffers to think deeply about whether they believed in the work enough to stay in the district.

Machado-Casas is helping educators in Madera understand both how to help immigrant students tackle grade-level material and convince them that the students can handle it.

Flores hopes the work ends up being a playbook for the entire state — which could soon need one. Gov. Gavin Newsom signed  this year requiring the Education Department to come up with a statewide plan for helping districts adopt the road map’s guidelines and report on their progress.

This planning process guarantees California will be over a decade into its recovery from the English-only years before the state even considers holding schools accountable for changing their practices. When New York passed a blueprint for how to serve English learners in 2014, it followed it up with new state regulations that same year, creating stricter policies for serving students who were still learning English, including a broader mandate for bilingual education, which had already been required for decades.

Alesha Moreno-Ramirez leads the California Education Department’s multilingual support division. She said state budget limitations have gotten in the way of implementing the English Learner Roadmap and said any call to require bilingual education like Texas or New York would have to come from the Legislature, not the department. “That said, we would enthusiastically support the movement toward requiring bilingual education,” she added.

Advocates caution such a mandate would have to come with enough funding to help districts create high-quality programs, but many agree it would be a win for California students. Children from immigrant families speak , according to the Education Department, but 93% of them speak one of 10. To require bilingual programs, the Legislature would likely tweak the current law, which says if the parents of 30 or more students in a single school request a language acquisition program, the school has to offer it “to the extent possible.” Texas, Illinois and New York have similar laws, but instead of requiring bilingual programs in response to parent advocacy, they do so based solely on enrollment.

Flores thinks the state is at least moving in the right direction. And Madera Unified gives her hope. During her recent visit, she was flooded with memories: She saw the tree she and her friends used to circle while playing “Ring Around the Rosie.” She visited the classroom she walked out of as a 5-year-old, where the walls are now decorated with vocabulary in Spanish as well as English. She suffered in that room 70 years ago. Now, little Mexican girls do not.

“We don’t stop,” she said. “We keep plugging away. That’s our tenacity. That’s our grit. And our motivation, of course, is for our children.”

This was originally published on .

These tensions escalated last year when a teacher disagreed with the superintendent’s decision to follow the advice of the school district’s lawyer and honor a transgender student’s request not to share their transition with their parents. The teacher went public and the results were swift and intense.

Hundreds of people descended on the next school board meeting. A local talk radio host said the superintendent wanted to “indoctrinate their children and … make them become gay and transgender.” Community members verbally accosted the schools chief in public saying, “You’re gonna go to hell. You never read the Bible.” 

The fiscal consequences were also considerable, forcing the district to divert funds from planned professional development. Ultimately, five educators left their jobs in response to the spreading unrest.

This small community’s turmoil is one of many accounts included in a new , which tries for the first time to put a dollar amount on the costs of the culture war conflicts that have consumed school districts over the past several years. The researchers estimate that the nation’s public schools spent approximately $3.2 billion in 2023-24 dealing with divisive public debates over race, gender and sexual orientation, forcing them to spend money on legal fees, security, public relations and employee hours responding to misinformation, disinformation and public records requests. 

And although the researchers said their figures don’t account for the emotional and social toll on educators and students, their numbers do include a significant and related expense: staff turnover.  

“There are many different costs that are really consequential and are undermining the ability of educators to support student learning and well-being,” said John Rogers, a professor at UCLA’s School of Education and Information Studies and the report’s lead author.

Data from the report comes from a national survey of 467 superintendents across 46 states conducted during summer 2024, followed by interviews with 42 superintendents across 12 states. Of those interviewed, 12 had taken the survey and reported moderate or high levels of conflict; the remaining 30 hadn’t taken the survey and were identified through professional leadership networks.

School districts were categorized as having either high, moderate, or low levels of conflict based on a series of questions about the nature of conflict related to culturally divisive issues, the frequency of and topics associated with personal or professional threats to superintendents and district staff and the financial and human resource costs.

Moms for Liberty, a high-profile parental rights group, was named specifically in the report in relation to board members they supported and other far-right groups accusing a western school district of indoctrinating students around sexual health issues. That superintendent cited having to spend roughly $100,000 to hire “armed plainclothes off-duty officers” and more than $500,000 in legal fees. Superintendents and school board members being attacked as pedophiles, groomers or sexual predators was a common refrain in the report.

Moms for Liberty did not respond to a request for comment. Closely aligned with Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump, the group’s influence over school board elections is seen as waning even if battles over curriculum content and library books are still being waged.

Of the districts surveyed, roughly one-third experienced low levels of conflict, just over one-third experienced moderate levels and just under one-third experienced high levels. About 2.5% of superintendents reported no conflict. Overall, Rogers said those surveyed “look a lot like superintendents from the entirety of the (national) pool” in terms of their race, gender and whether they lead urban, rural or suburban districts.

Half of the schools chiefs reported that they experienced at least one instance of harassment in the 2023-24 school year. One in 10 said violent threats were directed toward them and 11% experienced property vandalism.

In order to calculate the overall fiscal costs, researchers asked superintendents about direct expenditures during the 2023-24 school year that were above and beyond what they previously would have spent for resources such as legal services or security; indirect costs, such as redeployed staff time; and employee turnover costs. 

To determine the cost of redeployed staff time, researchers took the number of hours that superintendents reported across these different activities and assigned them a dollar figure based on average district administrator wages from the . For each staff member that left the district, researchers assigned a dollar figure related to recruitment and new staff training based on research out of the .

Rogers noted that “there’s a certain imprecision” when it comes to calculating the cost of staff turnover because “you’re asking superintendents to draw upon the knowledge that they have to make this determination” of why educators and administrators left their positions. Follow-up interviews, he added, helped to bolster the reliability of these figures.

The researchers, who also include Rachel White of the University of Texas at Austin, Robert Shand of American University and Joseph Kahne of the University of California, Riverside, estimated that in their entirety, the conflict-related costs were more than enough to expand the national school breakfast program by 40% or hire “an additional counselor or psychologist for every public high school in the United States.”

Beyond the dollar figures, when speaking with superintendents, Rogers said he was particularly struck by the ways in which violent threats were playing out and how frequently it appeared there was a “concerted effort to disrupt, to foment conflict for the sake of fomenting conflict.”

For example, he heard from a number of superintendents whose districts spent an immense amount of time fulfilling public records requests they felt had been filed in bad faith. Once the materials were compiled, they often went unused, Rogers said.

The lasting implications of these in-district battles — beyond the fiscal costs — still remain unknown and appear to be shifting with the changing landscape. Jonathan Zimmerman, professor of the History of Education at The University of Pennsylvania, recently on his previous work around the culture wars’ impact on history teachers, writing, “It seems like I might have exaggerated them.” 

But, he noted in an interview with ����Ӱ�� this week, the effects on other educators and administrators are ongoing. Within the culture wars, he’s noticed less of a focus on race and critical race theory and more on gender and sexuality, hypothesizing that this may mean history teachers feel a lesser impact than English teachers, who might be more likely to teach directly about gender.

His sees the report as a reflection of the country’s “brittle and abusive” political culture. 

“This is the school politics chapter of a much broader story about the way that politics is conducted in America,” he said.

It appears that even as some of these more divisive players move on or are voted out, their political agendas may persist. That’s been the case in Pennsylvania’s Bucks County, one of the most closely watched regions for these debates. 

According to recent New York Times , despite Democrats sweeping the last school board election, not all contested books have been returned to school library shelves nor have teachers been allowed to display identity markers, like rainbow flags. Nearly a year after the Moms for Liberty-backed candidates were ousted, their presence is still felt. 

For most K-12 student groups in California, test scores have been maddeningly flat since the pandemic. But for Black students, stagnant scores have been particularly frustrating: Black students’ math and English language arts scores inched downward for most grade levels last year, notching some of the lowest scores among any student group.

At least one district, however, has reversed that trend. Emery Unified, a small district tucked between Berkeley and Oakland in the east Bay Area, saw its Black students — who make up 45% of the student population, one of the highest rates in the state — show dramatic gains from 2022. Math scores nearly doubled over last year and English language arts scores far surpassed pre-pandemic results. Chronic absenteeism dropped 8.4 percentage points, far more than the state average. 

“I saw those scores and I was elated,” said Jessica Goode, principal of Emery High School. “All the work we’ve done has paid off. It’s been a challenge — there’s no road map because almost no one’s ever done this successfully.”

At Emery Unified, the proportion of Black students meeting test standards trends upward

Black students make up almost half the student body at the small district in the east Bay Area.

Emery Unified’s scores are still far below average, but they’re trending upward at a time when scores statewide are unchanged or slipping backward. The number of Black students meeting or exceeding the state English language arts standards jumped more than 12 percentage points last year, from 24% to 37%, and the math scores climbed from 9% to 15%. Statewide, Emery’s Black students outperformed their peers by a wide margin in English, and crept close to the state average for Black students in math.

Even though the scores are relatively low, the turnaround is worth celebrating, said Tyrone Howard, an education professor at UCLA.

“I see these pockets of hope, these glimmers of possibility, and think, how can we replicate this?” Howard said. “Emery Unified is on my radar, and it’s important to find out what’s happening there.”

Black students have long trailed other groups academically, Howard said, because they tend to attend schools with less experienced teachers, and are more likely to be homeless, in foster care or living in poverty — all factors that can hinder a student’s ability to focus in class.

Howard said racism plays a role, as well.

“Low expectations and a lack of resources for Black students plays just as much a factor as anything else,” Howard said.

For years, some advocates said California’s method of funding schools left many Black students . Through the Local Control Funding Formula, the state gives extra money to districts based on student poverty levels and other criteria, not based specifically on students’ race or ethnicity or the needs at individual schools. To address this, Gov. Gavin Newsom last year added a provision to the formula known as the equity multiplier, which allotts more money to districts based on student turnover and high rates of low-income students at specific school sites. The change  of Black students who will receive extra funding, according to Catalyst California, an education advocacy group. 

Black teachers also play a big role in Black students’ success, research has shown. Emery Unified has long prioritized hiring Black teachers, far outpacing the state average. More than 30% of Emery Unified’s teachers are Black, compared to just 3.9% statewide. 

According to a 2018 study from the National Bureau of Economic Research, Black students who had at least one Black teacher in the early grades were 13%  than their Black classmates who didn’t have a Black teacher. Black teachers also tend to have  for their Black students, and are less likely to view them as , studies show.

How Emery Unified boosted test scores

Efforts to turn things around at Emery High began long before the pandemic. Goode and her staff started meeting regularly to look closely at student performance data and curriculum, giving extra attention to students who were struggling.

The school also shifted to a “grading for equity” system, which focuses more on assessing students’ knowledge at the end of the grading period rather than their classroom behavior or whether they turned homework in on time. The new system helped motivate students and gave teachers a better idea of how students were progressing, Goode said.

Another tactic that’s helped: paying teachers extra money to stay after school and tutor students. The school also started taking students on college tours around California, bolstering its skilled trades program and expanding its mental health resources.

“I hated school so much when I was a teenager,” Goode said. “That’s always been my goal here: I don’t want these students to hate school. I want them to have options, both in school and after they graduate.”

Jesus Herrera, a math teacher at Emery High, credited the surge in math scores to his close collaboration with the school’s other math teacher. The two started meeting daily to align their lesson plans and set consistent, higher standards, ensuring smooth transitions from algebra to geometry and beyond.

Seeing the improvements has been gratifying, Herrera said.

“I like teaching, and this shows we’re doing a good job,” Herrera said.

Jordan King, a junior at Emery High who is Black, said he appreciates the small, close-knit campus culture, and that most of his teachers are Black or Latino.   

“There’s so many people of color in leadership roles. They understand what students go through, the struggles,” King said. “They’re not biased when they teach history, for example. And they’re nice people in general.”

King, who’s on the school’s debate and track teams, hopes to go to college after he graduates. As the student representative on the school board, he’s considering pursuing politics, law or history. 

He credits his teachers with inspiring him to excel.

“I definitely push myself more than I used to. I go to tutoring all the time, missing track or debate if I have to,” King said. “I want to make my family proud, let them know they raised a scholar, a good kid who’s going to achieve things.”

A focus on writing skills

At the elementary school, principal Samantha Burke credits three initiatives for the turnaround in test scores and chronic absenteeism. The first is a focus on writing skills, starting before students can even read. In kindergarten, students “write” stories by drawing pictures, gradually adding words and short sentences, to develop story-telling skills. In older grades, students practice a variety of writing styles, such as opinion pieces, fictional narratives and expository pieces, with increasing complexity. 

For example, an assignment for third-, fourth- or fifth-graders might be to write a multi-paragraph story about a celebration, followed by instructions to add plot twists, suspense and a surprise ending. Burke and her staff came up with the idea because they noticed that during remote learning, students were reading a bit, but doing very little writing because teachers weren’t able to offer individual guidance.

“We found that focusing on writing has helped students with reading, too,” Burke said. “They learn spelling, vocabulary, grammar, patterns. It’s had so many benefits.”

Elementary English language arts scores jumped 5 percentage points, from 33% meeting or exceeding the standard in 2022 to 38% last year.

Another change focused on accountability. Teachers started showing students their standardized test scores, and Burke met with each student individually to discuss the results and set goals. Students who scored at or above grade level standards were honored with awards and celebrations.

“It was highly time consuming but it created higher expectations. Students understand they need to do the best you can,” Burke said. “You could see a shift. Students started taking school more seriously.”

The third initiative focused on attendance. The school hired an attendance clerk to follow up with families who struggled to get their kids to school. School officials also planned regular events “to make school more fun,” such as pool parties, ice cream days, dance and capoeira martial arts classes and family nights with bingo and movies.

Chronic absenteeism was still high last year — 33% — but declined more than 8 percentage points from the previous year.

“When I saw our scores, there was a sense of relief,” Burke said. “These practices we’re building, they’re not for naught. We’re on the right track. Now we have to continue moving the needle.”

This was originally published at CalMatters.org.

But some in education say it’s time to reconsider this de facto requirement: Many schools — particularly those serving large numbers of Black, Hispanic or low-income students — don’t offer the course. And even when they do, it’s of dubious value, they say. 

“High school calculus is a complete waste of time and a form of torture,” said Alan Garfinkel, professor of integrative biology and physiology and medicine at UCLA. “The view … that math is a bunch of symbolic expressions, and you bang on them with tricks to get other symbolic expressions, is a bankrupt concept of math, dating from the 19th century.”

The course, as it’s often taught at the high school level, is inaccessible and often perceived as irrelevant to students’ interests, critics say. of high school graduates earned credit for calculus in 2019, according to data culled by the National Assessment of Educational Progress, a statistic no doubt shaped by its unavailability. 

Only 52% of schools with high student of color enrollment offered the course in 2017-18 compared to 76% of schools with low student of color enrollment, according to a from the Learning Policy Institute. 

The study, which analyzed data primarily from the U.S. Department of Education’s Civil Rights Data Collection, found the course was also scarce in more impoverished communities: Just 45% of high schools enrolling a high proportion of students from low-income families offered the class compared to 87% of high schools with a low proportion of these students. 

In addition to its uneven availability, some say calculus isn’t entirely relevant to college-level studies and that other classes, including those in statistics and data science, should be considered just as worthy. 

“There is a perception that calculus is required for admission to selective colleges, regardless of the fact that only about a handful of higher ed institutions in the U.S. actually require the course for all students,” said Melodie Baker, national policy director at , an organization that promotes math policies that support equity in college readiness and success.

The push for calculus, said Dave Kung, director of policy at the , harkens back to an earlier era in U.S. history: It was all about producing physicists and engineers to beat the Soviets in various ways. Other mathematics, including statistics and linear algebra, took a back seat, he said.

“The fact that calculus is the default college math pathway is an artifact of a time that’s now long gone,” he said. “Other branches of mathematics have risen in importance in the digital age, but our curriculum hasn’t been updated to reflect that change.”

Sarah Spence Adams, professor of mathematics at Olin College of Engineering in Needham, Massachusetts, said she understands why high school counselors place such power in the course: College admissions officials had come to rely upon it, perhaps unfairly. 

“Without that stamp of approval, it may be seen as harder and more labor intensive to determine if college applicants have pushed themselves academically,” said Spence Adams, who also teaches electrical and computer engineering. 

She does not believe a single course is necessary for college success. 

“I am rightfully worried that the disproportionate focus on calculus is unfairly excluding students, particularly students who come from backgrounds that have been historically excluded — and are still being excluded — from STEM majors and the well-paying careers that can follow,” she said. 

Access to the course varies across the country, influenced by race and wealth. Only 27% of New York state high schools with high student-of-color enrollment offered calculus compared to 81% of schools with low student-of-color enrollment, The Learning Policy Institute found. In New Jersey, the organization reported, the difference was 50 percentage points: It was 49 percentage points in Maryland, Ohio and Pennsylvania.

Those who question calculus’s importance are not just considering students who wish to pursue the humanities: They say it might not be a necessity for those who want careers in STEM.

“A background in calculus is certainly helpful — and many colleges do expect it for students pursuing STEM degrees — but research shows that deeper mastery of prerequisites for calculus is more important than calculus itself,” Baker said. “High school students should not rush through the curriculum to take the course. And even most selective colleges can support students who didn’t have access to calculus in high school.”

Bill Tucker, senior advisor of the Pathways Program at the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation, said the current sequence of mathematics courses from middle to high school means many students are being placed on a track starting in the fifth grade. 

Oftentimes, he said, neither they nor their parents know why, but the availability of algebra at the 7th- or 8th-grade level also can be a predictive factor. 

“Students are on the calculus track — or not,” Tucker said, adding all high schoolers should have the option of taking the course. 

The Gates Foundation has devoted $1.1 billion over the next four years — the start of a decade-long pledge — with the goal of improving the availability and quality of mathematics instruction to students across the country with a focus on Black, Latino and low-income children. 

The money, which arrives after years of pandemic strain and related learning loss — particularly in mathematics — will support the creation and use of high-quality instructional materials designed to increase student motivation, engagement and persistence. 

It will also be used to boost the number of teachers prepared to provide top-notch math instruction and to better align the math course pathways leading from high school to college. 

“Having calculus as the gatekeeper for competitive college admissions doesn’t make sense because of all of the inequities … and because it is taking one form of math and giving it a special place,” he said. “We want to have that equal opportunity … but we don’t want to make it so every student has to go to that door.”

Baker was among several who said the unofficial standard must change. 

“The focus on calculus in high school is a vicious cycle that needs to stop: It’s inequitable and will not lead to a stronger body of college applicants or a stronger society,” she said. “It will lead to more of the same and delay 21st-century advancement that relies on data and technology.”

Disclosure: The Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation provides financial support to ����Ӱ��.

Sandberg, who stepped down earlier this month as the longtime chief operating officer of Meta, Facebook’s parent company; and Goldberg, founder and CEO of Fresno Unlimited, took the mentorship aspect seriously. Both assumed that role themselves for two students in the inaugural 30-member scholarship class that became the first to graduate college last month.

“I am so hopeful about the impact these students will have in the world and am confident they will build a brighter future for us all,” Sandberg told ����Ӱ�� via email this month.

The Goldberg scholarship was created to honor Dave Goldberg — Sandberg’s husband and Rob Goldberg’s brother — who died in 2015 at age 47. Dave Goldberg, the CEO of SurveyMonkey, was close with KIPP Foundation CEO Richard Barth, and all the scholarship recipients are alumni of the charter school network, which predominantly serves low-income students of color. 

Sandberg’s mentee was Maleah Densby, a Duke University graduate who struggled with veering from her long-determined plan of being a pre-med major and eventually, a doctor. Floundering at first in her hardcore STEM classes, Densby, a top student, credited Sandberg with helping her to see that her grades did not define her or her dreams.

“Over the last four years, I’ve seen Maleah excel in her classes, wrestle through hard decisions, and navigate challenges both small and big. I’m so inspired by her drive and determination — and grateful for the special relationship we have built,” Sandberg said.

 “I have tried to teach her a thing or two, but I am certain she has taught me more, especially about perseverance.”

First-generation, low-income students face multiple barriers graduating college — nationwide, the six-year completion rate is 28% — and while the Goldberg Scholars had many additional supports, COVID also blew a hole through their college careers.

Rob Goldberg’s mentee was Metzli Garcia, a 2022 UCLA graduate and the first in her family to earn a college degree. Her dad cried, she said, when she told him she had gotten into UCLA and graduating “is a super big deal for my family.” When staying that high-stakes course became difficult, Garcia said, having someone like Goldberg believe in her made a powerful difference.

Goldberg said for him, that person had been his older brother.

“Dave was the person who instilled confidence in me and helped me to believe my dreams were attainable,” he told ����Ӱ��. “When I was 22, I started a company … Dave had started a digital media company a year before and not only did he help me become a founder and an entrepreneur (at a time when there was no internet or access to online resources about starting a company), he also showed me how impactful it was to take time out of your day to help others, and to put other people first.”

There are now 93 students in the Goldberg scholarship pipeline, including the 17 who just graduated from KIPP high schools across the country and are headed to college this fall. Looking back on the first four years, Goldberg said he learned what an enemy imposter syndrome can be for these young people.

“I was raised to believe that college would always be in my future and it wasn’t until I met these brave Goldberg Scholars that I realized that higher education is not something that is inherent in all of our futures — let alone a place where everyone feels they belong,” he said. “Overcoming these feelings of self-doubt makes Metztli’s achievements, and the entire inaugural class’s accomplishments, all the more impressive.”

Here are five of those graduates:

MALEAH DENSBY

Duke University 

METZLI GARCIA

UCLA

HORUS HERNANDEZ

University of Houston 

JALIWA ALBRIGHT

Duke University

BREON ROBINSON

Duke University

Disclosure: Campbell Brown oversees global media partnerships at Meta. Brown co-founded ����Ӱ�� and sits on its board of directors. Walton Family Foundation provides financial support to KIPP and ����Ӱ��.

But here at ����Ӱ��, we thought we’d use the occasion of March Madness to celebrate top schools for an entirely different reason — elevating graduates into the workforce and empowering social mobility. 

Colleges vary widely in how well they set graduates up for career success and aid them in climbing the “income ladder.” Recently Jorge Klor de Alva, president of the Nexus Research and Policy Center, worked with the Harvard-based Opportunity Insights dataset to match and analyze data from thousands of colleges as well as millions of income tax returns to determine every school’s ability to take students born to parents in the bottom 40 percent of income distribution and to help them go on to achieve earnings in the upper 40 percent of household income by their early 30s. 

By identifying the percentage of students who made this ascension, Klor de Alva was able to compare schools in an apples-to-apples fashion in a reimagined March Madness bracket. 

“A score of 0.50 on our bracket means 50 percent of students whose parents were in the lowest 40 percent were able to climb to the top 40 percent in earnings,” he wrote in a recent essay. “Our Social Mobility Tournament Bracket spotlights the extent to which disadvantaged students enrolled in the selected colleges have managed to reach family-sustaining earnings 10 years after leaving the school.” 

As we enter Sweet 16 weekend, here’s what the finalists would look like if used Klor de Alva’s social mobility percentages to determine winners: 

In real life, Bryant University’s basketball team lost their First Four game and failed to progress in the brackets. But, after seeing our “Social Mobility Tournament,” Bryant would be the 2022 contest winner if the focus was celebrating schools that helped students prosper.

For context, here’s the full March Madness bracket, scored by social mobility percentage (click to enlarge): 

Of note: UCLA, which previously won our Social Mobility Tournament in 2017, makes it all the way the Social Mobility Sweet 16 before being knocked out by Wisconsin’s Marquette University. 

To learn more about the calculations, the rationale and the importance of celebrating schools in moving students up the ladder, read Klor de Alva’s deep dive right here.