The roots of public education in the United States trace back to the early 19th century, with the belief that an educated populace was crucial to the success of a democratic society. Public education was initially seen as a way to uplift those who had historically been excluded from power, particularly the poor, women, and communities of color. In its ideal form, public education is meant to level the playing field, offering all children a chance to succeed regardless of their race, class, or family background. Historically, public education has been an essential tool for social mobility. From the landmark Brown v. Board of Education decision in 1954, which sought to desegregate schools, to the establishment of programs like Head Start and TRiO that helped first-generation college students access higher education, public schools have often been the only path to a better life for marginalized communities. These institutions have provided not just academic knowledge but social capital, building networks, fostering a sense of identity, and nurturing the critical thinking skills needed to challenge the status quo.

There’s a growing conversation about the future of public education in America, and unfortunately, some voices are calling for its dismantling. They argue that the system is too broken to fix and that the public education model is beyond repair. I firmly believe that dismantling the system is not the answer, reforming it is. While the calls for dismantling the public education system may sound appealing to some, particularly in an era where dissatisfaction with the status quo runs high, it’s crucial to understand the unintended consequences of such actions. The idea of dismantling public education underestimates the long-term damage it could do, especially for the very students who need it the most, those from marginalized communities, low-income backgrounds, and communities of color.

Recent national reports reveal persistent challenges in Oregon's education system, particularly in reading and math. According to the latest data from the National Assessment of Education Progress (NAEP), Oregon students, especially those in fourth and eighth grades, continue to perform below pre-pandemic levels. In fact, Oregon ranks among the lowest states in the nation for reading proficiency, with 69% of fourth graders and 70% of eighth graders failing to meet basic reading standards. These results reflect the continued struggle of students to recover from pandemic-related disruptions. In response, the Oregon Department of Education has expanded literacy initiatives to support schools that serve the most impacted communities. According to Charlene Williams, the state’s education department head, these efforts aim to ensure that students have access to high-quality instruction and resources. Additionally, summer and extended learning programs are now seen as essential tools for closing gaps and accelerating student progress.

Recent changes within the Office for Civil Rights (OCR) have placed civil rights protections in education at a crucial juncture. Specifically, protections related to race, gender, and disability are in danger, and the impact on students, especially in rural areas, could be profound. Having worked in rural schools, I’ve seen how these communities are often viewed through a deficit lens, geographically isolated and resource-starved, rural schools are seen as lacking. Yet, the reality is quite the opposite. Rural schools possess tremendous strengths: close-knit communities, personalized education, and strong relationships that foster student success. The danger lies in the erosion of civil rights protections, which already face significant barriers in rural areas. Weakening these protections could exacerbate disparities for marginalized students, particularly students of color, those with disabilities, and LGBTQ+ students.

It’s crucial to highlight the positive change that is happening in our communities. It’s easy to be overwhelmed by the headlines. Many headlines recently feel frightening and confusing, so it’s important to remember that there are people and organizations, like FBO, who are doing the hard work of driving progress. They are tackling tough issues head-on and working toward solutions that can make real, lasting impacts on children and families in Oregon. Amidst the chaos, these efforts offer hope and a path forward. In preparation for the 2025 legislative session, Foundations for a Better Oregon convened a diverse group of stakeholders at their Legislative Summit to chart the next steps for educational progress in the state. This year’s summit was particularly crucial, as it aimed to lay the foundation for how Oregon can continue to build on past successes like the Student Success Act, while addressing persistent challenges in public education.

As a public educator, I have grown weary of watching individuals with no background in education ascend to roles such as the United States Secretary of Education. The practice feels dismissive and diminishes the expertise required to lead our nation's schools. Appointing someone without classroom experience to shape national education policy disregards the complexity of teaching and the realities educators navigate each day. While these appointees often possess strong credentials in business or public service, they frequently misinterpret the fundamental principles that underpin effective education. They tend to approach schooling as a technical problem to be fixed, rather than a dynamic human endeavor that demands deep pedagogical understanding and emotional intelligence.

Fostering Democratic Engagement from an Early Age. From the earliest stages of education, students ought to engage actively in democratic processes within the classroom and in the broader community. This involves more than understanding the mechanics of democracy; it requires daily practice of its foundational principles. Through this engagement, young people learn to participate in decisions that shape their lives, their communities, and the society in which they live. We share a responsibility to cultivate environments where students feel safe, respected, and empowered to express their perspectives. Creating such spaces demands a culture in which every voice carries weight, and in which fairness, transparency, and mutual respect guide interactions. Involving students in decision-making reinforces the idea that democracy exists beyond the realm of government and should be a continual presence in their daily experiences.

Education serves as a fundamental mechanism for democracy, enabling individuals to participate meaningfully in civic life, make informed decisions, and advocate for the collective good. It empowers us with the knowledge and tools necessary to engage with the world around us, contributing to the healthy functioning of a democratic society. However, education is not only vital for democracy; it is also a deeply influential social determinant of health. The qualities that make education essential for a thriving democracy are the same qualities that underpin healthier, more vibrant communities. Education shapes more than our intellectual growth, it influences our opportunities, access to resources, and ultimately our ability to live healthy, fulfilling lives. Understanding how education intertwines with health illuminates the profound impact that learning can have, both on individuals and on society as a whole.

Rethinking the Traditional Summer Break in Oregon The long-standing tradition of an extended summer break raises important questions about its long-term benefits for Oregon’s students, educators, and families. Rather than maintaining the current model, we should consider more adaptive approaches—such as semester-based systems or year-round schooling with shorter, more frequent breaks. These alternatives may better serve students across varying socio-economic backgrounds while supporting educators and easing the burden on families. I approach this topic not as an expert, but as a concerned observer wondering whether year-round schooling or a semester-based system might better serve Oregon’s unique educational landscape.

I grew up in the '90s watching The Magic School Bus, where Ms. Frizzle would always say, "Take chances, make mistakes, get messy!" Frizzle’s iconic catchphrase captures how I believe learning should be: messy, full of mistakes, and always with the chance for growth. It’s in those moments of experimentation and failure that we learn the most, and that’s where critical thinking comes in. It’s through those messy moments that students learn to reflect, analyze, and make connections that help them grow both academically and as individuals.

Music unites communities, evokes emotion, and defines life’s most meaningful moments. During the holiday seasons, we are reminded of music’s enduring presence in our cultural celebrations and traditions. Yet beyond these moments of joy and connection, music education plays a critical role in cultivating the creativity, resilience, and cognitive growth that students need to thrive in every domain of life. Music education is not merely about creating professional musicians. It develops essential capacities that serve students well beyond the arts. As we reflect on our educational values this season, we must reassert music’s rightful place in public education across Oregon.

For most educators, summer does not constitute a break. Instead, summer serves as a crucial period of reflection, renewal, and preparation. Educators engage in extensive planning for the upcoming school year, revise and develop curricula, participate in professional learning, and often continue direct instruction through summer school or tutoring. These responsibilities, though essential for sustaining instructional quality, demand significant time and energy, often without compensation. The widely accepted notion of “summer vacation” obscures a more complex reality. Summer functions not as leisure but as a necessary interval for professional growth, logistical planning, and recovery from the cumulative toll of the academic year.

Educator Voice: From Tokenism to Transformation. As an educator, I frequently find myself “voluntold” to participate in initiatives that shape the trajectory of a school or district. Whether administrators introduce a new curriculum, revise assessment practices, or launch initiatives aimed at improving school climate, they often invite my input. In some instances, these invitations feel affirming. They signal a recognition of my professional insight and the potential for my feedback to influence broader educational practices. At other times, the process feels performative. Despite being asked to participate, I sense that decisions have already been finalized and that my presence serves more as a formality than a genuine opportunity for collaboration. This tension reveals a fundamental issue: the difference between passive and active engagement in educational decision-making.

Teaching is a profession that requires both heart and stamina. Educators often enter the field with a deep commitment to making a lasting difference in the lives of their students. Over time, the combination of organizational demands and emotional labor can lead to exhaustion, disconnection, and doubt. In conversations about teacher well-being, two terms frequently arise: burnout and demoralization. These experiences appear similar however they reflect distinct challenges. Understanding the difference between them is essential for identifying root causes and offering meaningful support.