Tag: Education

  • It will take patience and courage to fix K-12 education without the Department of Education

    It will take patience and courage to fix K-12 education without the Department of Education

    by John Katzman, The Hechinger Report
    November 19, 2025

    The Trump administration’s dismantling of the U.S. Department of Education this week provides a rare opportunity to rethink our current top-down approach to school governance.

    We should jump on it. It’s not sexy to talk about governance, but we can’t fix K-12 education until we do so, no matter how we feel about the latest changes.

    Since the Department of Education opened in 1980, we’ve doubled per-pupil spending, and now spend about twice as much per student as does the average country in the European Union. Yet despite that funding — and the reforms, reports and technologies introduced over the past 45 years — U.S. students consistently underperform on international benchmarks. And people are opting out: 22 percent of U.S. district students are now chronically absent, while record numbers of families are opting out of those schools, choosing charters, private schools and homeschooling.

    Most federal and state reform approaches have been focused on curricular standards and have accomplished little. The many billions spent on the Common Core standards coincided with — or triggered — a 13-year decline in academic performance. The underlying principles of the standards movement — that every student should learn the same things at the same time, that we know what those things are and that they don’t change over time — have made our schools even less compelling while narrowing instruction to what gets tested.

    Related: A lot goes on in classrooms from kindergarten to high school. Keep up with our free weekly newsletter on K-12 education.

    We need to address the real problem: how federal, state and district rules combine to create a dense fog of regulations and directives that often conflict or constrain one another. Educators are losing a rigged game: It’s not that they’re doing the wrong things, it’s that governance makes them unresponsive, bureaucratic, ineffective and paralyzed — can you name an industry that spends less on research and development?

    Fixing governance won’t be simple, but it shouldn’t take more than 13 years to do it: three years to design a better system of state governance and 10 more to thoroughly test and debug it.

    I would start by bringing together experts from a variety of disciplines, ideally at a new “Center for K-12 Governance” at a university’s school of education or school of public policy, and give them three years to think through a comprehensive set of state laws and regulations to manage schools.

    The center would convene experts from inside and outside of education, in small groups focused on topics including labor, funding, data, evaluation, transportation, construction, athletics, counseling, technology, curricula and connections to higher education and the workforce. Its frameworks would address various educational and funding alternatives currently in use, including independent, charter and parochial schools, home schooling and Education Savings Accounts, all of which speak to the role of parents in making choices about their children’s education.

    Each group would start with the questions and not the answers, and there are hundreds of really interesting questions to be considered: What are the various goals of our K-12 schools and how do we authentically measure schools against them? What choices do we give parents, and what information might help them make the right decisions for their kids? How do we allow for new approaches to attract, support and pay great teachers and administrators? How does money follow each student? What data do we collect and how do we use it?

    After careful consideration, the center would hand its proposed statutes to a governor committed to running a long-term pilot to fully test the model. He or she would create a small alternative department of education, which would oversee a few hundred volunteer schools matched to a control group of similar schools running under the state’s legacy regime; both groups would include schools with a range of demographic and performance profiles. The two systems could run side by side for up to a decade.

    Related: Schools confront a new reality: They can’t count on federal money

    Each year, the state would assess the two departments’ performance against metrics like graduation and college-completion rates, teacher retention, income trajectories, civic participation, student and parent satisfaction, and, yes, NAEP scores. Under intense scrutiny by interested parties, both groups would be free to tweak their playbooks and evaluate solutions against a range of real-world outcomes. Once definitive longitudinal data comes in, the state would shutter one department and move the governance of its schools over to the other, perhaps launching a new test with an even better system.

    This all may seem like a lot of work, but it’s a patient approach to a root problem. Schools remain the nation’s most local public square; they determine income mobility, civic health and democratic resilience. If we fail to rewire the system now to support them properly, we guarantee their continued decline, to the detriment of students and society. Instead of celebrating students, teachers and principals who succeed despite the odds, we should address why we made those odds so steep.

    That’s why we should use this moment to draft and test something audacious, and give the next Supreme Court a happier education case to decide: how to retire a legacy system that finally lost a fair fight.

    John Katzman has founded and run three large ed tech companies: The Princeton Review, 2U and Noodle. He has worked closely with many large school districts and has served on the boards of NAPCS and NAIS.

    Contact the opinion editor at [email protected].

    This story about fixing K-12 education was produced by The Hechinger Report, a nonprofit, independent news organization focused on inequality and innovation in education. Sign up for Hechinger’s weekly newsletter.

    This <a target=”_blank” href=”https://hechingerreport.org/opinion-it-will-take-patience-and-courage-to-fix-k-12-education-without-the-department-of-education/”>article</a> first appeared on <a target=”_blank” href=”https://hechingerreport.org”>The Hechinger Report</a> and is republished here under a <a target=”_blank” href=”https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/”>Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License</a>.<img src=”https://i0.wp.com/hechingerreport.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/cropped-favicon.jpg?fit=150%2C150&amp;ssl=1″ style=”width:1em;height:1em;margin-left:10px;”>

    <img id=”republication-tracker-tool-source” src=”https://hechingerreport.org/?republication-pixel=true&post=113457&amp;ga4=G-03KPHXDF3H” style=”width:1px;height:1px;”><script> PARSELY = { autotrack: false, onload: function() { PARSELY.beacon.trackPageView({ url: “https://hechingerreport.org/opinion-it-will-take-patience-and-courage-to-fix-k-12-education-without-the-department-of-education/”, urlref: window.location.href }); } } </script> <script id=”parsely-cfg” src=”//cdn.parsely.com/keys/hechingerreport.org/p.js”></script>

    Source link

  • Why early STEAM education unlocks the future for all learners

    Why early STEAM education unlocks the future for all learners

    Key points:

    When we imagine the future of America’s workforce, we often picture engineers, coders, scientists, and innovators tackling the challenges of tomorrow. However, the truth is that a student’s future does not begin in a college classroom, or even in high school–it starts in the earliest years of a child’s education.

    Early exposure to science, technology, engineering, arts, and mathematics (STEAM) builds the foundation for critical thinking, collaboration, and creativity. Research indicates that children introduced to STEAM concepts before the age of eight are significantly more likely to pursue STEM-related fields later in life. Yet for too many children, especially neurodivergent learners and those in underserved communities, STEAM education comes too late or not at all. That gap represents a missed opportunity not only for those children, but also for the industries and communities that will rely on their talents in the future.

    The missed opportunity in early education

    In most school systems, STEAM instruction ramps up in middle school or high school, long after the formative years when children are naturally most curious and open to exploring. By waiting until later grades, we miss the chance to harness early curiosity, which is the spark that drives innovation.

    This late introduction disproportionately affects children with disabilities or learning differences. These learners often benefit from structured, hands-on exploration and thrive when provided with tools to connect abstract concepts to real-world applications. Without early access, they may struggle to build confidence or see themselves as capable contributors to fields like aerospace, technology, or engineering. If STEAM employers fail to cultivate neurodivergent learners, they miss out on theirunique problem-solving skills, specialized strengths, and diverse thinking that drives true innovation. Beyond shrinking the talent pipeline, this oversight risks stalling progress in fields like aerospace, energy, and technology while weakening their competitive edge.

    The result is a long-term underrepresentation of neurodivergent individuals in high-demand, high-paying fields. Without access to an early STEAM curriculum, both neurodivergent students and employers will miss opportunities for advancement.

    Why neurodivergent learners benefit most

    Neurodivergent learners, such as children with autism, ADHD, or dyslexia, often excel when lessons are tactile, visual, and inquiry-based. Early STEAM education naturally aligns with these learning styles. For example, building a simple bridge with blocks is more than play; it’s an exercise in engineering, problem-solving, and teamwork. Programming a toy robot introduces logic, sequencing, and cause-and-effect.

    These types of early STEAM experiences also support executive functioning, improve social-emotional development, and build persistence. These are crucial skills in STEM careers, where theories often fail, and continued experimentation is necessary. Additionally, building these skills helps children see themselves as creators and innovators rather than passive participants in their education.

    When neurodivergent children are given access to STEAM at an early age, they are not only better equipped academically but also more confident in their ability to belong in spaces that have traditionally excluded them.

    Houston as a case study

    Here in Houston, we recognize the importance of early STEAM education in shaping our collective future. As the world’s Energy Capital and a hub for aerospace innovation, Houston’s economy will continue to rely on the next generation of thinkers, builders and problem-solvers. That pipeline begins not in a university laboratory, but in preschool classrooms and afterschool programs.

    At Collaborative for Children, we’ve seen this firsthand through our Collab-Lab, a mobile classroom that brings hands-on STEAM experiences to underserved neighborhoods. In these spaces, children experiment with coding, explore engineering principles, and engage in collaborative problem-solving long before they reach middle school. For neurodivergent learners in particular, the Collab-Lab provides an environment where curiosity is encouraged, mistakes are celebrated as part of the learning process, and every child has the chance to succeed. Additionally, we are equipping the teachers in our 125 Centers of Excellence throughout the city in practical teaching modalities for neurodivergent learners. We are committed to creating equal opportunity for all students.

    Our approach demonstrates what is possible when early childhood education is viewed not just as childcare, but as workforce development. If we can prioritize early STEAM access in Houston, other cities across the country can also expand access for all students.

    A national priority

    To prepare America’s workforce for the challenges ahead, we must treat early STEAM education as a national priority. This requires policymakers, educators and industry leaders to collaborate in new and meaningful ways.

    Here are three critical steps we must take:

    1. Expand funding and resources for early STEAM curriculum. Every preschool and early elementary program should have access to inquiry-based materials that spark curiosity in young learners.
    2. Ensure inclusion of neurodivergent learners in program design. Curricula and classrooms must reflect diverse learning needs so that all children, regardless of ability, have the opportunity to engage fully.
    3. Forge stronger partnerships between early education and industry. Employers in aerospace, energy, and technology should see investment in early childhood STEAM as part of their long-term workforce strategy.

    The stakes are high. If we delay STEAM learning until later grades, we risk leaving behind countless children and narrowing the talent pipeline that will fuel our nation’s most critical industries. But if we act early, we unlock not just potential careers, but potential lives filled with confidence, creativity and contribution.

    Closing thoughts

    The innovators of tomorrow are sitting in preschool classrooms today. They are building with blocks, asking “why,” and imagining worlds we cannot yet see. Among them are children who are neurodivergent–who, with the proper support, may go on to design spacecrafts, engineer renewable energy solutions, or code the next groundbreaking technology.

    If we want a future that is diverse, inclusive, and innovative, the path is clear: We must start with STEAM education in the earliest years, for every child.

    Latest posts by eSchool Media Contributors (see all)

    Source link

  • Teaching as a Sacred Life (opinion)

    Teaching as a Sacred Life (opinion)

    Some people dream about retirement as heaven; I see it as hell. I do not wish to retire. I am only 80 and have been a college professor for a mere 56 years. I’m a workaholic and I have every reason to continue. My office is my Shangri-La. In a small space, it is a mini-museum of an entire career—2,000 books, plaques for well beyond a dozen teaching and scholarship awards, many photographs, travel mementos from around the world, and artifacts of every kind. All organized and I know where everything is. I look around and remember. And there is much to remember. Students from across the institution sometimes drop in just to marvel at what this office says about a career. I once wrote an article on one’s office as a teaching tool.

    I’m a fairly ordinary guy. My degrees would not raise any eyebrows—undergraduate from a directional-named tertiary regional university, Ph.D. from my home-state Midwestern university. A tour in Vietnam and church-related travels all over the globe add some zest. I have had some successes in the academic world—books, lots of articles, some wider recognition and campus leadership roles. I’ve been department chair for 35 years; “it is a small place.” I’ve had some offers all the way up to a presidency inquiry. I’ve spurned them all. 

    I am a teacher, the highest calling in this human existence and at a place best suited for my practice. A colleague called our role “a slice of heaven breaking into this earthly realm.” He was right. It isn’t what I do; it is who I am. Back when I began graduate school, jobs in my discipline were plentiful. My early predecessors scrambled for prestigious appointments and got them. I declared from day one that what I wanted was a small liberal arts college where I could affect students’ lives. Some accused me of low aspirations. My adviser proclaimed, “You can do better than that.” However, things changed for historians dramatically in the mid-1970s, and the opportunities, prestigious and other, dried up. But I was fortunate; my desires came about.

    Teaching is about mentoring students. And I have had my share. Of the majors, at least, I remember almost all of them, now in the upper hundreds. They have done well. I’m committed to that. I remember from my first year, my first high-profile student received a prestigious national Ph.D. award. I was ecstatic. She retired many years ago as a prominent scholar and provost. And I am just as enthusiastic about the several graduates from this past spring who went on to top graduate and professional schools and good career opportunities.

    I am proud to hope that I have played a role in their becoming. If it is my fortune, they will join the ranks who check in periodically, send cards and letters, get married (and divorced), have kids, and come by to see me occasionally. Maybe it is just to confirm if the old man is still alive. I have several second-generation majors and a couple of third-generation ones—again, “it is that kind of place.” I have stories about their parents and grandparents, a bit disconcerting to their elders. I’m a storyteller and I have an almost inexhaustive supply. I’ve lived a lot of life, and this is a tool to employ in speaking to new generations of students. We travel quite a bit, and every place we go, every book read, movie watched, indeed every experience, I approach didactically. How does this become part of my classroom and student learning?

    I’ve heard the cliché that we should teach learning to think, not what to think. Yes, but we also have a greater responsibility. I’m not tolerant enough to accept that genocide is OK, rape is just fine or that the world is flat and John F. Kennedy is alive in a hospital in Dallas. That is the antithesis of intellect. I have little patience for conspiracy theorists or patent immorality, even if there is a lot of both going around. Our goals must be higher, our expectations more worthy.

    But it isn’t just about the students. I’ve hired several department members, selected to perpetuate the purposes we want to achieve. My job is to model the norms and culture that have made us successful and for my colleagues to achieve their best selves. The greatest tribute that I have received in my career was from a now-deceased member of the department who proclaimed, “His greatest strength as a leader is that he is so deeply committed to our success that he is just as pleased to see our work succeed as he is to see his own work succeed.” I hope that I have lived up to that high accolade.

    I do not enjoy summer, because my colleagues and our students are not around much. No hanging out in the office talking about everything from books, politics, philosophy, culture, teaching and maybe a little gossip. I find it hard to come to grips with what a full year would be as an extended summer. I can only read and write so many hours a day, especially if I can’t see it manifest itself in the classroom. I’ve been at this long enough to know that no matter your stature, when you are gone, your shelf life is short. In four years, or three, in many cases today, you are just a name that the ever-cycling group of current students may or may not have heard about, but in any case, you aren’t impacting them directly.

    Everything about this academic life hasn’t been idyllic. Pay may have been less than ideal, frustrations exist, challenges are around every corner and today the very existence of my discipline, type of institution and indeed the liberal arts are under threat from forces internal and external.

    I know that someday my portion of the quest will come to an end. Health is precarious, the mind fragile, life full of the unsuspected. I’ve witnessed that from 50-plus years of colleagues. I know my vulnerabilities—back surgeries, hearing and creeping infirmities. Things can change in the blink of an eye. But as long as mind and body cooperate, I remain a teacher, the highest calling with which we mortals are graced. It is my slice of heaven, and, as for my students and my sacred department office space, I do not want to give up either prematurely.

    Joe P. Dunn is the Charles A. Dana Professor of History and Politics at Converse University.

    Source link

  • Volunteer EMTs Provide Medical Response Support on Campus

    Volunteer EMTs Provide Medical Response Support on Campus

    On a normal day on the Florida State University campus, it’s not unusual to see a student drive by in a vehicle equipped with sirens and the name “Medical Response Unit” plastered to the side.

    “I saw everybody driving around in the golf carts and I really wanted to know what was happening,” said neuroscience major Anakha Vargheese.

    The vehicles are part of a student-led emergency medical response unit, connected to the student health center, that trains student volunteers to provide health care and assistance to their peers.

    For the university, the unit provides emergency response support and health education to all students. For volunteers, the experience gives them needed work-based learning and professional development for future careers as medical professionals.

    In action: FSU’s Medical Response Unit includes more than 150 trained student volunteers on staff, including Vargheese, who serves as director of administration for the unit. Volunteers are certified in various roles, including emergency medical technicians and paramedics.

    To be eligible, students must be empathetic and committed to improving campus health and welfare. All volunteers agree to participate for four semesters including training, so students are primarily admitted in their first or second year of college.

    The unit is well-known on campus, and the competition to earn a spot on the crew is fierce. In the most recent application cycle, MRU received 350 applications for 50 positions, said Bryce Couey, a senior biology major who serves as executive director for the MRU.

    At the start of the term, students accepted to the program are assigned to a crew of three or four people, including one trainee who shadows the crew for the semester. Crews serve two-hour-and-fifteen-minute shifts between 7:45 a.m. and 6 p.m. and may be called on to help bandage a sprained ankle, provide transport to the campus health center or address whatever other issues may arise.

    MRU volunteers provide care for campus community members at campus events, including football tailgates and an annual carnival.

    During the academic year, volunteers cover various campus events, including football tailgates, baseball games, student organization events, intramural sports, the homecoming parade and an annual circus event, which is Vargheese’s favorite.

    “One thing coming into the MRU that I really wanted to gain was clinical experience,” Vargheese said. “But another additional thing that I got out of it was the community and the people. So just being able to spend time with your friends and your crew at these really special events, it’s really fun.”

    The unit has an assortment of vehicles to perform emergency responses, including SUVs, electric carts and a mobile first aid trailer, each equipped with emergency lights, sirens and medical equipment.

    The unit also provides educational training sessions and certification for other students, including Stop the Bleed, which provides a national training certificate for bystanders to control a bleeding emergency before professionals arrive.

    In addition, the unit leads two trainings developed in house for FSU students to recognize and respond to emergency situations, said program director Michael Stewart-Meza; one is tailored for students in fraternity and sorority life and another for the general campus population.

    The impact: The unit is one way FSU hopes to destigmatize receiving help among the campus community.

    “Before and after their shifts, [volunteers] are roaming around campus and attending class in their MRU uniforms,” Stewart-Meza said. “It develops a comfortability that other students will have with them. They’re their classmates, they’re their friends and they’re in the sororities and fraternities with them.”

    Both Couey and Vargheese initially joined MRU to gain clinical experience for their premed education, but the experience has also taught them personal and professional skills, as well as helped them create a sense of connection on campus.

    “It has made me a better person,” Couey said. “I was very introverted when I joined the unit, and I feel as if the people in the unit and the unit itself have gotten me out of my shell and allowed me to grow into the best version of myself.”

    “Being out there in the field and treating patients, caring for them in whatever way that we can, it’s really affirming and rewarding,” said Vargheese. “Without MRU here at college, I don’t know what I’d be doing. I really found my place.”

    Source link

  • Is Higher Ed Broken?

    Is Higher Ed Broken?

    During the recent government shutdown, I bravely traveled to Philadelphia for the annual meeting of the Association of Public and Land-grant Universities’ annual meeting. Then I hung out at Bryn Mawr College, where Marjorie Hass, president of the Council of Independent Colleges, gave a fantastic talk about curriculum to a big group (that included not that many faculty). Finally, I Amtraked up to a conference at Drew University in New Jersey. In one week, I made the rounds of what most people think of as “college.”

    In my role as creator of Inside Higher Ed’s wacky weekly newsletter The Sandbox, I go to plenty of higher ed conferences. The Drew gathering was a horse of another color. It convened 150 people from various sectors of learning—tech gurus, mentorship experts, K–12 educators, innovators in experiential learning, those who have started new organizations and institutions—to talk about the future of higher ed.

    The Drew convening opened with a talk by Michael Horn of the Harvard Graduate School of Education. As a reminder, in 2013, he and Clayton Christensen predicted in a New York Times op-ed that online education was going to disrupt our sector and that 25 percent of struggling colleges and universities were going to close. He presented new research that shows dozens of brand-name schools in New England could now be in deep financial doo doo.

    One of the questions at Drew was “What is the purpose of higher education?” If you ask faculty, the answers are likely to loftily uphold ideals we all believe: to open minds, spark curiosity, even help build citizens who will maintain our (endangered) democracy. Most will rightly claim that colleges and universities are engines of economic opportunity.

    When I asked my students at a regional public what they wanted out of their education, they parroted these ideas. They came to be challenged, to meet people unlike themselves, to think differently. College, they complained noted, instills discipline and helps them ease into adulthood. Most believed in the value of a traditional liberal arts education.

    This is not surprising because, well, they’re college students and they’ve been chugging the Kool-Aid we serve them. We live these values when they come to our campuses. My old friend Stanley Hauerwas, the potty-mouthed esteemed theologian, used to say in typical fashion, “I don’t want my students to make up their goddamned minds; they don’t have minds worth making up until I’ve taught them.” Coming to college can feel for many the way Dorothy did when she went over the rainbow. Life goes from drab sepia tones to a Technicolor.

    Twenty years ago, when I won the lottery became faculty, things were still pretty Emerald City–esque. I had landed a tenure-track job after a couple different careers as a nine-to-fiver. What a luxurious and privileged position! How many other employees have this kind of flexibility, job security and, well, lack of accountability?

    But boy howdy, we’re back in dusty Kansas.

    Because here’s the thing: As enrollments drop, state and federal support withers, and philanthropic dollars are necessary to keep our citizens safe, fed and healthy, the number of faculty at most institutions has remained mostly unchanged while expenses continue to rise. This is a math problem a fifth grader could solve. We need to adapt if we want to continue to prepare the next generations to keep our country going.

    A handful of elite institutions have turned themselves into high-end brands, with people mistaking exclusivity for excellence and the national media mistaking them for the whole sector, fueling the rankings arms race and copycat syndrome.

    Meanwhile, most of us are stuck in the messy middle, trying to do everything everywhere all at once. Research, workforce training, student life, athletics, DEI, study abroad, mental health—missions layered like geological strata. The result? Silos, identity crisis, bloat and burnout.

    The sad truth is that few people outside academe are convinced we’re doing a good job. That includes not just the disaffected without degrees who were told they were losers if they didn’t go to college, but plenty of professionals who did and are still paying off debt and are not convinced their kids should follow that path. Plus, the children of privilege are dropping out of fancy-pants schools to work at start-ups. For many young people, the choice now is not which college to attend but whether to bother going at all.

    There are still plenty of folks who want access to more education, and we have to remember that most degree seekers aren’t of traditional college age. But that doesn’t mean even they want to buy what we’re currently selling. There are nearly 4,000 institutions of higher learning in this country. Some will survive, others will thrive, and for some, it may end up looking like the Hunger Games.

    At dinner with a dozen presidents this fall, one told a story that captured how resistance to current reality can end. That president had been warning his faculty about the financial cliff ahead. They either didn’t believe him or couldn’t be bothered to figure out how to change. Then he told them the school was closing and handed out pink slips. That’s what happens when you wait for someone else to solve the math problem.

    Those in the group that Michael Horn and Clay Christensen said were going to go belly up—small privates and regional publics—are going to have to do some hard rethinking and find a way to be something other than, in the formulation of Jeff Selingo, “Comprehensive U.”

    We’ve been able to muddle through with tiny ivory towers on each campus: disciplinary niches, departments, divisions, colleges. The world, however, does not follow the ways of our little chessboard pieces that each move in their quirky little ways.

    We are in the midst of some serious paradigm shifts, folks. Not just in the last two decades, but in the past two years, since AI began to change every aspect of life as we know it, whether you like it or not (and yes, I know that many do not like it and stick their fingers in their ears saying la la la I can’t hear you).

    This is why the Drew convening felt like going from sepia tones to Oz. If there was a man behind the curtain, it was the visionary president of Drew, Hilary Link, whose scholarship on the Renaissance shows that we already have within us what we need, if we’re only able to see from a different perspective. This perpetual learner has been on an 18-month journey asking questions of all different types of thinkers and trying to figure out where to go next. The convening was a first step in consolidating what she’s learned, backed by a university board that understands the survival challenges and prizes boldness.

    In the final session, President Link asked me to talk about innovations I’ve seen as I talk to presidents around the country. The sad truth is that while there are many creative leaders well aware of the need to change, they face resistance from the usual suspects.

    Boards are often filled with well-meaning and accomplished people who went to college in another era and may not understand much about our current environment.

    And faculty cling to traditions that define their own legitimacy. The Angry Eight (or Furious Five or Irate Individual) on a campus can stop brilliant ideas in two sessions of the Faculty Senate. And while these longtime faculty members try to burn it all down, they rarely come up with realistic and informed solutions to move forward.

    Because of resistance from above or below, institutions are cycling through presidents faster than drug-aided Lance Armstrong could pedal, leaving little time for anything but triage. Finding good examples of meaningful innovation is hard.

    So, I pointed to a quirky example that has caught my attention. The Community Solution Education System consists of six private, previously independent not-for-profit institutions that act as one entity. They share infrastructure and an overarching mission while maintaining their individuality. This approach takes aim at the real obstacles: redundancy, inefficiency, low morale, leadership churn and the isolation that keeps colleges from learning from one another. It smashes the silos.

    Shared services for essential stuff—HR, IT, procurement—free up resources for student services. Networks of presidents and provosts who actually talk to one another about practical, scalable solutions. Small, niche-y colleges get the efficiencies of large ones without losing their soul.

    Collaboration and radical cooperation, not competition, might be higher ed’s best survival strategy. The Community Solution proves that shared purpose doesn’t have to mean sameness. It’s one of the rare higher ed innovations not about shiny tech or brand reinvention but about rebuilding the scorched environment of the ecosystem itself.

    The ground beneath us is shifting faster than ChatGPT could rewrite this essay. One of the speakers at the meeting in New Jersey aptly quoted the boss. Bruce Springsteen sang, “I can’t tell my courage from my desperation.” Yep. As long as it motivates you to get shit done, does it really matter which one it is?

    Rachel Toor is a contributing editor at Inside Higher Ed and the co-founder of The Sandbox, a weekly newsletter that allows presidents and chancellors to write anonymously. She is also a professor of creative writing and the author of books on weirdly diverse subjects. Reach her here with questions, comments and complaints compliments.

    Source link

  • Dismantling of ED Prompts Flurry of Reactions

    Dismantling of ED Prompts Flurry of Reactions

    Dismantling of ED Prompts Flurry of Reactions

    jessica.blake@…

    Tue, 11/18/2025 – 09:00 PM

    Numerous higher ed leaders, advocates and politicians weighed in on McMahon’s plan to ship several ED programs to other agencies. Here’s a snapshot of what they said.

    Byline(s)
    Jessica Blake

    Source link

  • Labour takes steps to bring higher education and local skills closer together

    Labour takes steps to bring higher education and local skills closer together

    The post-16 white paper promised to strengthen statutory guidance on local skills improvement plans (LSIPs), including “clearer expectations on higher education providers to engage” and a move to make the plans cover skills all the way up to level 8.

    This greater roles for universities in LSIPs was gestured at in Skills England’s ministerial guidance, and even announced by Labour in opposition.

    Now, the revised guidance has been published – and the push for higher education providers to play a more central role has indeed materialised.

    This is a local shop

    LSIPs were introduced in the Skills and Post-16 Education Act under the last government as employer-owned priorities and actions around skills needs and the provision of technical education in a designated local area of England. Some 38 different plans were approved by the Secretary of State in summer 2023, with annual progress reports following – you can find them all on this page if you don’t mind navigating through some confusingly designed websites.

    That legislation also introduced mechanisms to assess how well education providers were contributing to the plans – for example, accountability agreements for further education colleges. For higher education institutions, the only mention of accountability in the old guidance was an enjoinder to make a note of activity related to LSIP priorities in strategic plans. The previous government framing around LSIPs was notably quiet on the role of higher education, as we’ve noted before – which is not to say that many HE institutions didn’t get involved, to greater or lesser extents (the progress reports linked above demonstrate this, though in a non-systematic way).

    LSIPs cover a three-year period, so a new round in summer 2026 is Labour’s big chance to reshape them in its preferred fashion. Today’s guidance is to be used for an LSIP draft submitted by the end of March, and – pending government approval – the new plans will be published in or around June next year.

    The areas covered by LSIPs, and the corresponding employer representative bodies (ERBs), have also been shifting – today we get the latest areas confirmed, now sensibly contiguous with local authority areas. An additional wrinkle that Labour announced in last year’s devolution white paper is for so-called strategic authorities (“mayoral and non-mayoral combined authorities, combined county authorities, and the Greater London Authority”) to take joint ownership of LSIPs, along with ERBs. Eventually everywhere will be in a strategic authority – one day – but today’s guidance is in many places split depending on whether the LSIP is or is not in a more devolved part of England.

    Best laid plans

    LSIPs are a complicated undertaking at the best of times – as the government puts it, they “unite employers, strategic authorities, higher education, further education and independent training providers and wider stakeholders in solving skills challenges together.” Their effectiveness in really driving change remains unproven but – in theory – they respond to calls for a skills system that is planned at a local rather than central government level (or one that is not planned at all).

    The new guidance confirms just quite how complex an endeavour putting a plan together has become. New LSIPs will need to join up with the industrial strategy and its sector plans, “as far as they relate to industries within the local area.” This will also create synergies (or cross-purposes) with the new local growth plans for mayoral authorities announced at the spending review, which focus on economic development, and the Local Get Britain Working Plans (GBWPs) which are supposed to be looking at “broader causes of economic inactivity.”

    The guidance references a need for a read-across to the clean energy jobs plan (the LSIPs legislation placed a requirement on the plans to consider the environment), but this presumably will equally apply all the other forthcoming workforce strategies – now renamed as jobs plans, keep up – that different sectors are being obliged to come up with for purposes of linking migration and skills.

    And in perhaps the most notable shift of all, the new Labour version of the LSIP is instructed to pay heed to the post-16 white paper, and specifically the new prime ministerial targets for participation in higher-level learning. This is even presented as the first bullet point in the list of what the Secretary of State will take into account in the approval process. Reading between the lines, it looks like the government will be wanting plans which are relatively bullish on the growth of provision, including – but not only – at levels 4 and 5.

    Skills England is tasked with monitoring and oversight, as well as providing copious data to inform the plans’ development.

    Get HE in

    As set out in the new guidance at least, each LSIP will function as a little microcosm of the more coherent and cooperative education and skills landscape that Labour is swinging for in its white paper vision. Whether the plans can really drive these reforms, or simply reflect their framing, is another question – but there’s similar language about asking both further and higher education providers to lean in and

    work together in support of the ambitions set out in their respective LSIP, creating a more coherent post-16 education system with better pathways and opportunities to progress from entry up to higher level skills, enabled by the Lifelong Learning Entitlement.

    As mentioned, LSIPs will now be required to run the full gamut of technical education from entry level up to level 8, having previously been limited to level 6 provision as a cut-off. Asking employers and local areas to think about postgraduate-level skills needs is a bit of a watershed moment, even if the government itself seems to have only limited appetite for much policy change, and it will be fascinating to see what comes of it.

    Perhaps it’s the paucity of much proper government support for the higher education sector in recent years which leads me to celebrate this, but the language in the guidance around higher education’s fit within local systems feels spot on, in terms of how the sector would like itself to be understood:

    Higher education providers (HEPs) are focal points for higher level technical skills, research and innovation. The differences in mission, specialisms and strategic objectives between different types of institutions mean that HEPs can add unique value to local skill systems in a variety of ways, including through industry partnerships, research-led innovation, and national and international development initiatives; as well as feeding in higher education specific intelligence, such as graduate outcomes or skills pipeline data, to complement and add to further education and employer data.

    What getting stuck in looks like

    Both HE and FE providers will be expected to play a role in LSIP governance. Core elements of the new plans will need to include details of how both types of providers have been engaged in shaping the priorities and actions, as well as identifying challenges, and set out how they will support implementation and review progress.

    The potential actions included within LSIPs are varied, but it’s anticipated that they will speak to both improving the local skills “offer” – including changes that higher and further education providers can make to better align provision with the skills needs of the area and to simplify access – and to raise awareness of existing provision, helping both employers and learners to better understand what’s available.

    On the latter, there’s a nice moment where the guidance makes a genuinely sensible suggestion:

    Where engagement between higher education providers and LSIPs has not previously taken place, ERBs (and Strategic Authorities) may find engaging with the heads of careers and employability (who tend to work on skills development and measuring skills impact) a useful starting point.

    Higher education institutions will be “expected” (more on that later) to help ERBs and local government structures help map higher technical skills needs, share information about what they currently offer, and reflect on how their provision can be more responsive. And help with evaluation, and use their subject expertise and industry links to help develop the technical skills of staff elsewhere. And employ their national and international reach to gather best practice. It’s almost as if universities are teeming hives of resource and capable people, rather than ivory towers intent on remaining aloof from their local areas.

    Plus there’s an expectation for collaboration with further education and with other higher education providers to, “where appropriate”,

    create a more strategically planned response to skills needs, leading to improved local and regional coverage and coordination.

    It all sounds very nice if it works – and it all helps to flesh out the how of the white paper’s grand but largely un-operationalised ideas.

    Who’s accountable then?

    In its promises to give universities a “seat at the table” in LSIPs, it sounded like there was the possibility of Labour introducing a degree of accountability for higher education institutions, in the same way that applies to further education colleges (both through accountability agreements with DfE, and in a growing emphasis on local skills in Ofsted inspections). Research from the Association of Colleges has previously highlighted universities’ lack of formal accountability within the LSIP system as a mild bone of contention among stakeholders.

    This hasn’t happened – as far as accountability applies to higher education institutions’ role in the plans, it will remain limited to an expectation that activity is recorded in strategic or business plans, as was previously the case. There is now also encouragement for HEIs to “publicly communicate their role in the LSIP in other ways.” What we do get much more of is an emphasis on those responsible for the plans to seek out and involve the higher education sector.

    We therefore run up against the same issues that dog Labour’s HE agenda elsewhere – there might be an attractive vision of collaboration and coherence, which all things being equal the sector would be well-disposed towards, but at a time of maximum turmoil and with incentives pointing in other directions, can it really gel? Otherwise put: is dedicating enormous resource, goodwill and strategic direction to local needs a prudent choice for institutions battling to survive, or would they be better off focusing on recruiting every single last international student they can get their hands on for the rest of the Parliament? To which we might also add that the retrenchment in higher education civic work that seems to be taking place in some areas has likely already damaged some of the required structures and led to the loss of needed expertise.

    It’s a similar story elsewhere in the system: local government structures have never been more stretched, devolution-related reforms are still in their infancy, and while employer groupings may be well-placed to say what skills they would like more of, are they really effective stewards of fiendishly complicated local projects involving multiple actors and spotty data?

    A set of 39 well thought through and carefully monitored LSIPs at the heart of a responsive ecosystem of employers, HE and FE, and local government – each with one eye on the industrial strategy, and another on an area’s own specific character – would do wonders for Labour’s education and skills agenda. But the conditions need to be in place for it to emerge, and right now it feels like quite the reach.

    Source link

  • Australia’s providers and peak bodies have their say on education reforms

    Australia’s providers and peak bodies have their say on education reforms

    The Bill, which contains a suite of integrity-focused reforms that will impact Australia’s international and higher education sectors, is progressing through parliament.

    With that, stakeholders have been weighing in. Here are some of the key points raised in submissions, focusing on education agents, TEQSA powers, and consultation concerns.

    Changes for education agents

    The Bill is set to tighten oversight of education agents by broadening the legal definition of who qualifies as an agent and introducing new transparency requirements around commissions and payments.

    Universities Australia urged the government to adopt a definition of education agent that “captures only those receiving commission for the direct recruitment of students on behalf of Australian institutions”, arguing this would provide greater certainty to universities and ensure compliance requirements remain proportionate.

    The International Education Association of Australia (IEAA) also raised concerns that the proposed definition remains overly broad. In its submission, the association warned that, without clearer definitions and published guidelines, existing arrangements – such as subcontracted marketing services or partnerships with education businesses – could inadvertently fall within the scope of education agent, increasing compliance burdens and legal risks.

    For these reasons, IEAA reiterated its earlier recommendation that the definition be adapted from the National Code 2018, or that an exemption schedule be developed covering government agencies, TNE partners, and contracted marketing firms.

    TEQSA-related changes and powers

    Elsewhere, the legislation also sets out that education providers will require authorisation from the Tertiary Education Quality and Standards Agency (TEQSA) – Australia’s national higher education regulator – to deliver Australian degrees offshore.

    The Bill will also give TEQSA clearer authority to monitor, and, if necessary, restrict or revoke offshore higher-education delivery, backed by new reporting obligations requiring providers to notify TEQSA of key changes to offshore operations and submit annual reports on all offshore courses, with specific details yet to be defined.

    Julian Hill, the federal government’s assistant minister for international education, recently defended this part of the Bill saying: “All that this part of the Bill is doing is making sure that TEQSA, as the regulator, has a line of sight to what providers are doing offshore – that’s all.

    “Right now, TEQSA, as the regulator, simply doesn’t have the data-flow to know reliably which providers are delivering in which markets… There’s no more power; there’s no more red tape; it’s simply saying: ‘You need to get authorisation.’

    “It’s straightforward. Everyone who is currently delivering automatically gets authorised. But then they just have to tell the regulator, so that they can run their normal risk-based regulation.”

    In its submission, IEAA said it supports the changes, providing they “do not penalise existing Australian education providers’ partnership arrangements/contracts with their offshore partners”.

    However, IEAA suggests a “phased implementation timeline that allows for some providers who are mid-way through contract signing with offshore partners to not be unnecessarily caught up, delayed or burdened by this new measure suddenly being enforced”.

    IEAA also argued that the Bill’s nine-month decision period for TEQSA – which could be stretched to 18 months if extended – is too long, warning that such delays would hinder providers’ ability to respond to opportunities and innovate. A three- to six-month timeframe would be more appropriate, it said, noting that long approval windows could deter offshore partners already navigating lengthy timelines for establishing new TNE agreements.

    Requiring notifications for every change in course offerings would impose a significant – and unnecessary – administrative burden without delivering meaningful regulatory benefit
    Go8

    The Group of Eight also raised TEQSA’s new requirements in their submission, writing: “There is no material difference between courses offered by Monash University onshore in Australia and those at Monash Malaysia. Requiring notifications for every change in course offerings would impose a significant – and unnecessary – administrative burden without delivering meaningful regulatory benefit.”

    Go8 said that without further clarity on reporting requirements, it is “difficult to determine whether this aligns with the intended light-touch approach” that the government has signalled.

    “For self-accrediting universities, reporting obligations should be kept to an absolute minimum and clearly linked to risk mitigation, ensuring compliance does not create unnecessary administrative burden. Importantly, reports should not request information that TEQSA can access through existing systems,” said Go8 in its submission.

    Sector consultation

    A lack of consultation was a major point of contention during last year’s debate on the previous iteration of the Bill, and several submissions argue that this continues to be a concern.

    English Australia acknowledged the “extensive engagement” undertaken by Hill, as well as ongoing consultation by the Department of Education – and noted that several improvements had been made since the 2024 version, including the removal of proposed enrolment caps.

    However, the ELICOS peak body added that “the vast majority of feedback” provided during the inquiry has been ignored and that the limited consultation that characterised the earlier Bill has “equally marked the drafting of the current version”.

    English Australia urged the government to pause the Bill to allow time for a collaborative and robust consultation with the sector peak bodies, and also to allow time for economic modelling on the cumulative impact of its provisions on the international education sector and the wider economy.

    Independent Tertiary Education Council Australia (ITECA) takes a similar stance, describing engagement on matters within this Bill as “challenging”.

    “ITECA has been unequivocal in lending support to measures that will genuinely enhance integrity objectives,” wrote ITECA CEO Felix Pirie in its submission.

    “As you will appreciate, ITECA cannot lend such support in the absence of collaborative and open dialogue, especially when the sector is ambushed by the tabling of legislation in the parliament. Improved integrity must be delivered through improved integrity and transparency in government processes, decision-making and collaborative engagement with the sector.

    Pirie and his team are recommending that should the reforms pass, they be subject to review by an external reviewer within two years of commencement of those provisions.

    All submissions can be viewed at this link.

    Source link

  • McMahon Breaks Up More of the Education Department

    McMahon Breaks Up More of the Education Department

    McMahon has said the recent government shutdown proved that the Education Department isn’t necessary.

    Photo illustration by Justin Morrison/Inside Higher Ed | Anna Moneymaker/Getty Images | Pete Kiehart for The Washington Post via Getty Images

    The Education Department is planning to move TRIO and numerous other higher education programs to the Labor Department as part of a broader effort to dismantle the agency and “streamline its bureaucracy.”

    Instead of moving whole offices, the department detailed a plan Tuesday to transfer certain programs and responsibilities to other agencies. All in all, the department signed six agreements with four agencies, relocating a wide swath of programs. 

    For instance, the Labor Department is set to take over most of ED’s higher education programs, which include grants that support student success, historically Black colleges and universities, and other minority-serving institutions. Meanwhile, the State Department will handle Fulbright-Hays grants as well as those administered by the International and Foreign Language Education office. Indian Education and programs for tribal colleges are moving to the Interior Department. 

    Several of the offices that have overseen these grant programs were gutted in recent rounds of layoffs, but any staff members who are still managing them will move to the other agencies. ED also has sought to defund some of the grants, deeming them unconstitutional, so it’s not clear what is moving to the other agencies.

    The agreements were signed Sept. 30—the day before the government shut down. ED officials expect the transition to take some time.

    No programs, however, have been moved from the Office for Civil Rights, the Office of Federal Student Aid or the Office of Special Education and Rehabilitation Services. The department is still “exploring the best plan” for those offices, a senior department official said in a press call Tuesday afternoon.

    “These partnerships really mark a major step forward in improving management of select programs and leveraging these partner agencies’ administrative expertise, their experience working with relevant stakeholders and streamlines the bureaucracy that has accumulated here at ED over the decades,” the senior department official said. “We are confident that this will lead to better services for grantees, for schools, for families across the country.”

    Education Secretary Linda McMahon hinted at the sweeping announcement in a social media post Tuesday morning. The secretary posted an ominous video of a ticking clock followed by President Ronald Reagan urging Congress to dissolve the Department of Education. The video ended with a flickering screen that read “The Final Mission,” an echo of her first letter to Education Department staff in which she outlined how she would put herself out of a job.

    President Donald Trump directed McMahon in March to close down her department “to the maximum extent appropriate and permitted by law.”

    Liz Huston, a White House spokesperson, applauded the announcement  describing it as a “bold, decisive action to return education where it belongs—at the state and local level.”

    “The Trump Administration is fully committed to doing what’s best for American students, which is why it’s critical to shrink this bloated federal education bureaucracy while still ensuring efficient delivery of funds and essential programs,” she said in a statement. 

    These moves are the most significant steps McMahon has taken beyond the layoffs to comply with the president’s directive.

    Congress has pressed McMahon multiple times to acknowledge that neither she nor the president can fully shut the department down without lawmakers’ approval. But when addressing these concerns, McMahon has made a point to note that shutting the department and its programs down entirely is different than dismantling bureaucracy and co-managing operations with other cabinet-level departments.

    The department official echoed this Tuesday when talking with reporters, saying that policy and statutory oversight of the programs will still rest with employees at the Department of Ed. But execution of processes, particularly as it pertains to grants, will be managed by other agencies.

    “Education has broad authority under several statutes to contract with other federal agencies to procure services, and the department has had that authority since its inception,” the official said. “We at the Department of Ed have engaged with other partner agencies over 200 times through [inter-agency agreements] to procure various services of other partner agencies over the years—even the Biden administration did it.”

    The department has already moved Career, Technical and Adult Education to the Department of Labor. McMahon has said that effort was essentially a test run to see how other agencies could handle the department’s responsibilities. Democrats in Congress have decried the plan to move CTE to Labor as illegal. 

    Many of the department’s offices have already experienced dramatic disruptions this year, as McMahon used two reductions in force to cut the head count of her staff by more than 50 percent. The latest mass layoff, which took place during the government shutdown, has since been enjoined by a federal court. President Trump also agreed to return affected employees to “employment status” administration when he signed a stopgap bill to temporarily end the 43-day shutdown. 

    But it remains unclear whether those staff members have returned or will ever return to work. Multiple sources told Inside Higher Ed that the language of the bill may allow Trump to leave employees on paid administrative leave until the bill is no longer effective on Jan. 30 and then re-administer the pink slips.

    Prior to Tuesday’s announcement, many higher education experts as well as current and former ED employees were hesitant to declare the department dead. Some said as long as the department and its functions remain codified, it will still be alive. But one former staff member put it this way: “If you take the major organs out of a human, do you still have a human or do you have a corpse?” 

    Amy Laitinen, senior director of the higher education program at New America, a left-leaning think tank, said moving the offices to other federal agencies would not save tax dollars.

    “It fractures and weakens oversight of those dollars, it’s duplicative and it’s wasteful,” she said. “How are you tracking student outcomes to ensure taxpayer dollars are well spent when all of the entities responsible are scattered to the wind? For example, separating the agency in charge of financial aid policy (OPE) from the entity responsible for financial aid implementation (FSA) makes no sense.”

    Source link

  • Preparing for a new era of teaching and learning

    Preparing for a new era of teaching and learning

    Key points:

    When I first started experimenting with AI in my classroom, I saw the same thing repeatedly from students. They treated it like Google. Ask a question, get an answer, move on. It didn’t take long to realize that if my students only engage with AI this way, they miss the bigger opportunity to use AI as a partner in thinking. AI isn’t a magic answer machine. It’s a tool for creativity and problem-solving. The challenge for us as educators is to rethink how we prepare students for the world they’re entering and to use AI with curiosity and fidelity.

    Moving from curiosity to fluency

    In my district, I wear two hats: history teacher and instructional coach. That combination gives me the space to test ideas in the classroom and support colleagues as they try new tools. What I’ve learned is that AI fluency requires far more than knowing how to log into a platform. Students need to learn how to question outputs, verify information and use results as a springboard for deeper inquiry.

    I often remind them, “You never trust your source. You always verify and compare.” If students accept every AI response at face value, they’re not building the critical habits they’ll need in college or in the workforce.

    To make this concrete, I teach my students the RISEN framework: Role, Instructions, Steps, Examples, Narrowing. It helps them craft better prompts and think about the kind of response they want. Instead of typing “explain photosynthesis,” they might ask, “Act as a biologist explaining photosynthesis to a tenth grader. Use three steps with an analogy, then provide a short quiz at the end.” Suddenly, the interaction becomes purposeful, structured and reflective of real learning.

    AI as a catalyst for equity and personalization

    Growing up, I was lucky. My mom was college educated and sat with me to go over almost every paper I wrote. She gave me feedback that helped to sharpen my writing and build my confidence. Many of my students don’t have that luxury. For these learners, AI can be the academic coach they might not otherwise have.

    That doesn’t mean AI replaces human connection. Nothing can. But it can provide feedback, ask guiding questions, and provide examples that give students a sounding board and thought partner. It’s one more way to move closer to providing personalized support for learners based on need.

    Of course, equity cuts both ways. If only some students have access to AI or if we use it without considering its bias, we risk widening the very gaps we hope to close. That’s why it’s our job as educators to model ethical and critical use, not just the mechanics.

    Shifting how we assess learning

    One of the biggest shifts I’ve made is rethinking how I assess students. If I only grade the final product, I’m essentially inviting them to use AI as a shortcut. Instead, I focus on the process: How did they engage with the tool? How did they verify and cross-reference results? How did they revise their work based on what they learned? What framework guided their inquiry? In this way, AI becomes part of their learning journey rather than just an endpoint.

    I’ve asked students to run the same question through multiple AI platforms and then compare the outputs. What were the differences? Which response feels most accurate or useful? What assumptions might be at play? These conversations push students to defend their thinking and use AI critically, not passively.

    Navigating privacy and policy

    Another responsibility we carry as educators is protecting our students. Data privacy is a serious concern. In my school, we use a “walled garden” version of AI so that student data doesn’t get used for training. Even with those safeguards in place, I remind colleagues never to enter identifiable student information into a tool.

    Policies will continue to evolve, but for day-to-day activities and planning, teachers need to model caution and responsibility. Students are taking our lead.

    Professional growth for a changing profession

    The truth of the matter is most of us have not been professionally trained to do this. My teacher preparation program certainly did not include modules on prompt engineering or data ethics. That means professional development in this space is a must.

    I’ve grown the most in my AI fluency by working alongside other educators who are experimenting, sharing stories, and comparing notes. AI is moving fast. No one has all the answers. But we can build confidence together by trying, reflecting, and adjusting through shared experience and lessons learned. That’s exactly what we’re doing in the Lead for Learners network. It’s a space where educators from across the country connect, learn and support one another in navigating change.

    For educators who feel hesitant, I’d say this: You don’t need to be an expert to start. Pick one tool, test it in one lesson, and talk openly with your students about what you’re learning. They’ll respect your honesty and join you in the process.

    Preparing students for what’s next

    AI is not going away. Whether we’re ready or not, it’s going to shape how our students live and work. That gives us a responsibility not just to keep pace with technology but to prepare young people for what’s ahead. The latest futures forecast reminds us that imagining possibilities is just as important as responding to immediate shifts.

    We need to understand both how AI is already reshaping education delivery and how new waves of change will remain on the horizon as tools grow more sophisticated and widespread.

    I want my students to leave my classroom with the ability to question, create, and collaborate using AI. I want them to see it not as a shortcut but as a tool for thinking more deeply and expressing themselves more fully. And I want them to watch me modeling those same habits: curiosity, caution, creativity, and ethical decision-making. Because if we don’t show them what responsible use looks like, who will?

    The future of education won’t be defined by whether we allow AI into our classrooms. It will be defined by how we teach with it, how we teach about it, and how we prepare our students to thrive in a world where it’s everywhere.

    Latest posts by eSchool Media Contributors (see all)

    Source link