by Jim Ryan, The Hechinger Report January 19, 2026
The future of work will demand fluency in both science and technology. From addressing climate change to designing ethical AI systems, tomorrow’s challenges will require interdisciplinary thinkers who can navigate complex systems and harness the power of computation.
And that is why we can’t wait until high school or college to integrate computer science into general science.
The time to begin is during middle school, that formative period when students begin to shape their identities, interests and aspirations. If schools want to prepare young people for a future shaped by technology, they must act now to ensure that computer science is not a privilege for a few but a foundation for all.
One innovative way to close this gap is by integrating computer science into the general science curriculum at every middle school. This approach doesn’t require additional class periods or separate electives. Instead — by using computational thinking and digital tools to develop student understanding of real-world scientific phenomena — it reimagines how we teach science.
Science and computer science are already deeply interconnected in the real world. Scientists use computational models to simulate climate systems, analyze genetic data and design experiments. And computer scientists often draw inspiration from biology, physics and chemistry to develop algorithms and solve complex problems, such as by modeling neural networks after the brain’s architecture and simulating quantum systems for cryptography.
Teaching these disciplines together helps students see how both science and computer science are applicable and relevant to their lives and society.
Integrating computer science into middle school science instruction also addresses long-standing equity issues. When computer science is offered only as a separate elective, access often depends on prior exposure, school funding and parental advocacy. This creates barriers for students from underrepresented backgrounds, who may never get the chance to discover their interests or talents in computing.
Embedding computer science into core science classes helps to ensure that every student — regardless of zip code, race or gender — can build foundational skills in computing and see themselves as empowered problem-solvers.
Teachers must be provided the tools and support to make this a reality. Namely, schools should have access to middle school science curriculums that have computer science concepts directly embedded in the instruction. Such units don’t teach coding in isolation — they invite students to customize the sensors that collect data, simulate systems and design coded solutions to real-world problems.
For example, students can use computer science to investigate the question: “Why does contact between objects sometimes but not always cause damage, and how can we protect against damage?”
Students can also use sensors and programming to develop solutions to measure the forces of severe weather. In doing so, they’re not just learning science and computer science — they’re learning how to think like scientists and engineers.
Integrating general science with computer science doesn’t require more instructional time. It simply requires us to consider how we can use computer science to efficiently investigate the science all students already study.
Rather than treating computer science as an add-on, we can weave it into the fabric of how students investigate, analyze and design.
This approach will not only deepen their understanding of scientific concepts but also build transferable skills in logic, creativity and collaboration.
Students need to start learning computer science earlier in their education, and we need to start in the science classroom by teaching these skills in middle school. To ensure that today’s students grow into tomorrow’s innovators and problem-solvers, we must treat computer science as foundational, not optional.
This <a target=”_blank” href=”https://hechingerreport.org/high-school-college-computer-science-lessons/”>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&ssl=1″ style=”width:1em;height:1em;margin-left:10px;”>
Between kindergarten and second grade, much of the school day is dedicated to helping our youngest students master phonics, syllabication, and letter-sound correspondence–the essential building blocks to lifelong learning.
Unfortunately, this foundational reading instruction has been stamped with an arbitrary expiration date. Students who miss that critical learning window, including our English Language Learners (ELL), children with learning disabilities, and those who find reading comprehension challenging, are pushed forward through middle and high school without the tools they need. In the race to catch up to classmates, they struggle academically, emotionally, and in extreme cases, eventually disengage or drop out.
Thirteen-year-old Alma, for instance, was still learning the English language during those first three years of school. She grappled with literacy for years, watching her peers breeze through assignments while she stumbled over basic decoding. However, by participating in a phonetics-first foundational literacy program in sixth grade, she is now reading at grade level.
“I am more comfortable when I read,” she shared. “And can I speak more fluently.”
Alma’s words represent a transformation that American education typically says is impossible after second grade–that every child can become a successful reader if given a second chance.
Lifting up the learners left behind
At Southwestern Jefferson County Consolidated School in Hanover, Ind., I teach middle-school students like Alma who are learning English as their second language. Many spent their formative school years building oral language proficiency and, as a result, lost out on systematic instruction grounded in English phonics patterns.
These bright and ambitious students lack basic foundational skills, but are expected to keep up with their classmates. To help ELL students access the same rigorous content as their peers while simultaneously building the decoding skills they missed, we had to give them a do-over without dragging them a step back.
Last year, we introduced our students to Readable English, a research-backed phonetic system that makes English decoding visible and teachable at any age. The platform embeds foundational language instruction into grade-level content, including the textbooks, novels, and worksheets all students are using, but with phonetic scaffolding that makes decoding explicit and systematic.
To help my students unlock the code behind complicated English language rules, we centered our classroom intervention on three core components:
Rhyming: The ability to rhyme, typically mastered by age five, is a key early literacy indicator. However, almost every ELL student in my class was missing this vital skill. Changing even one letter can alter the sound of a word, and homographic words like “tear” have completely different sounds and meanings. By embedding a pronunciation guide into classroom content, glyphs–or visual diacritical marks–indicate irregular sounds in common words and provide key information about the sound a particular letter makes.
Syllabication patterns: Because our ELL students were busy learning conversational English during the critical K-2 years, systematic syllable division, an essential decoding strategy, was never practiced. Through the platform, visual syllable breaks organize words into simple, readable chunks that make patterns explicit and teachable.
Silent letter patterns: With our new phonics platform, students can quickly “hear” different sounds. Unmarked letters make their usual sound while grayed-out letters indicate those with a silent sound. For students frustrated with pronunciation, pulling back the curtain on language rules provided them with that “a-ha” moment.
The impact on our students’ reading proficiency has been immediate and measurable, creating a cognitive energy shift from decoding to comprehension. Eleven-year-old Rodrigo, who has been in the U.S. for only two years, reports he’s “better at my other classes now” and is seeing boosts in his science, social studies, and math grades.
Taking a new step on a nationwide level
The middle-school reading crisis in the U.S. is devastating for our students. One-third of eighth-graders failed to hit the National Assessment of Educational Progress (NAEP) benchmark in reading, the largest percentage ever. In addition, students who fail to build literacy skills exhibit lower levels of achievement and are more likely to drop out of school.
The state of Indiana has recognized the crisis and, this fall, launched a new reading initiative for middle-school students. While this effort is a celebrated first step, every school needs the right tools to make intervention a success, especially for our ELL students.
Educators can no longer expect students to access grade-level content without giving them grade-level decoding skills. Middle-school students need foundational literacy instruction that respects their age, cognitive development, and dignity. Revisiting primary-grade phonics curriculum isn’t the right answer–educators must empower kids with phonetic scaffolding embedded in the same content their classmates are learning.
To help all students excel and embrace a love of reading, it’s time to reject the idea that literacy instruction expires in second grade. Instead, all of us can provide every child, at any age, the chance to become a successful lifelong reader who finds joy in the written word.
Kim Hicks, Southwestern Jefferson County Consolidated School
Kim Hicks is the Director ESL Program at Southwestern Jefferson County Consolidated School in Hanover, Indiana.
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From the start, Na’Siah Martin and H’Sanii Blankenship’s July trip to Washington, D.C., was destined to be a riveting stop on the teenagers’ passage to adulthood. There were the scheduled meetings with lawmakers, the monuments, the reflecting pool near where Martin Luther King Jr. broadcast his dream for racial equality 62 summers ago.
For years, the pair have been involved in the Boys and Girls Clubs of the Austin Area, the revered summer and after-school program that was now making it possible for the two blossoming leaders to meet with Texans in Congress and present their game plan for tackling mental health challenges among student-athletes, a struggle both were deeply familiar with.
But two weeks before their arrival on Capitol Hill, President Donald Trump’s administration threw one of many curveballs lobbed during the first months of his second term. The U.S. Department of Education notified state education officials on the last day of June that it would pause the disbursement of nearly $7 billion in funds for teacher development, support for students learning English, and before- and after-school programs predominantly serving low-income families, pending a review of how schools had put the money to use. That notice went out a day before states expected to begin receiving the money.
For Texas, it meant a potential loss of nearly $670 million. For Martin and Blankenship, it potentially meant losing the Boys and Girls Club, a space that has aided their growth as both leaders and individuals. Martin, 18, graduated from Navarro Early College High School in June and has participated in the club since elementary school. Blankenship, a 17-year-old incoming senior at the same school, has participated in the club for about as long as Martin.
The focus of their trip immediately broadened: They now wanted to convince federal lawmakers that cutting the funds would harm Texas kids.
“These programs aren’t just for fun,” Blankenship said. “They actually give us resources, help us grow into adults instead of just coming here and just goofing around and stuff like that. These programs, they help us cope with things we need to cope with.”
The education funding freeze was typical of the Trump administration. In recent months, it has also cut billions of dollars in food assistance and health care for families in poverty; frozenbillions in grants and contracts financially supporting universities; canceled billions for foreign aid and public broadcasting stations; laid off thousands of employees working in critical federal agencies; and sought to overhaul the U.S. immigration landscape through actions like attempting to end birthright citizenship.
Those cuts and changes have often been sweeping and abrupt, disrupting federally funded services and programs serving large swaths of people of color, people with disabilities, low-income families, LGBTQ+ Americans and immigrants. And they have come at the same time the administration has moved to lower taxes for some of America’s wealthiest households.
“We can’t look at just the cuts to education in isolation,” said Weadé James, senior director of K-12 education policy at the Center for American Progress. “I think what we’re witnessing is really the undoing of a lot of progress, and also actions that are really going to keep a lot of families trapped in cyclical and generational poverty.”
Boys and Girls Club director Jacob Hernandez watches club members play spades at Navarro Early College High School. Credit: Montinique Monroe for The Texas Tribune
Ongoing changes to the country’s educational landscape are only one part of Trump’s larger goals to eliminate what the second-term president has deemed “wasteful” spending and crack down on anything he views as diversity, equity and inclusion initiatives. A large piece of his efforts involve closing the Department of Education and sending “education back to the states,” though most decisions about education and public school funding already happen at the state and local levels.
“Teachers will be unshackled from burdensome regulations and paperwork, empowering them to get back to teaching basic subjects. Taxpayers will no longer be burdened with tens of billions of dollars of waste on progressive social experiments and obsolete programs,” Trump Secretary of Education Linda McMahon said in a statement earlier this year. “K-12 and college students will be relieved of the drudgery caused by administrative burdens—and positioned to achieve success in a future career they love.”
The disarray has resulted in profound consequences for Texas, one of the largest and most diverse states in the nation, home to more than 9,000 school campuses and 5.5 million students — the majority of whom live in low-income households and come from Hispanic and Black families. Public schools serve as a safety net for many of them. They are one of the few places where some children have consistent access to meals, where working-class parents know their kids will be taken care of.
The prospect of federal cuts to school programs triggered a wave of concern across the state. For 44-year-old Clarissa Mendez, it jeopardized the after-school program her two daughters attend while she works as a nurse in Laredo.
“I’m on shaky grounds right now because I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Mendez said last month. “I understand there has to be cuts. I understand the government needs to find out how to save money. But why does it have to affect us and our kids?”
For Gay Hibbitts, a 57-year-old trying to become a certified teacher in rural Throckmorton, the worries began months earlier.
Earlier this year, the federal government cut roughly $400 million from a program that helps teaching candidates like her pay for their education as they gain hands-on classroom experience. That left participating rural districts with one of two options: cover the costs at a time when schools are financially struggling to make ends meet, or get rid of their preparation programs during a teacher shortage.
In both scenarios, Hibbitts said, children would pay the price.
“They’re the main ones that are going to suffer,” she said.
For as long as Martin and Blankenship can remember, they have each helped raise their younger siblings, a responsibility that has been rewarding but stressful. On the one hand, Martin said, her siblings look up to her, and her academic success has motivated them to do well in school. On the other hand, Blankenship said, taking on adult responsibilities at an early age meant missing out on the type of exhilarating childhood experiences many kids desire.
Since joining the Boys and Girls Club, the program has provided them the space to be kids.
They receive tutoring and time to finish homework. They go to live sporting events, watch movies and listen to music — SZA some days, Lauryn Hill on others. They play sports, cards and board games. They can earn scholarships. They find mentorship.
“We’re the future adults, so I feel like if you help us now with programs like this, that make us happy, that give us stress relief, that let us be kids, because we can’t be kids at home, I feel like that’ll equate to happier adults,” Martin said.
Na’Siah Martin, left, and H’Sanii Blankenship traveled to Washington, D.C., in July and had a chance to discuss with lawmakers the Trump administration’s pause on roughly $7 billion in federal funding, which threatened to shutter the Boys and Girls Club. Credit: Montinique Monroe for The Texas Tribune
Neither Martin nor Blankenship enjoys public speaking. Martin actually fears it. But with the Austin Boys and Girls Club’s future in jeopardy, they decided to lean into the discomfort and use the face time with lawmakers and their staffers to make a case for the after-school program.
The pair and several other clubmates sat down with the staff of Texas Republican Sens. John Cornyn and Ted Cruz. They also met with Rep. Greg Casar, an Austin Democrat. The kids wore blue polo shirts with the words “America Needs Club Kids” etched in white. Martin, rocking a black one-button blazer, led the way.
“I gotta let these people know,” she thought.
Erica Peña is responsible for taking care of about 400 kids as she coordinates Hebbronville Elementary’s summer and after-school programs. Working with an assistant and about 25 paid volunteers, the 37-year-old often stays after hours — sometimes as late as 7 p.m. — depending on when parents can leave work to get there.
Peña breaks the after-school schedule into blocks. The first hour is for tutorials and worksheets, the later hours are usually for more fun activities like arts and crafts, kickball and cooking.
But shortly after the federal education funds were paused, the district notified Peña that it could no longer afford to keep her or the program.
“I cried, to be honest,” Peña said. “I was very upset, because I love my job, I love my students, and a lot of it is about them.”
Clarissa Mendez and her daughters Catiana Ester Mendez, left, and Catalaya Avaneh Mendez pose for a photo at their home in Hebbronville on July 30, 2025. Credit: Gabriel V. Cárdenas for The Texas Tribune
Hebbronville, in far South Texas, is home to about 4,300 mostly Hispanic Texans, one-third of whom live below the poverty line. The town has no H-E-B or Walmart. The local health clinic is often busy. The town has a few day care centers, but they can get pricey.
For the average Texas family, child care is financially out of reach. The median annual cost sits at $10,706 a year — or $892 each month. That’s more than one-fourth of the average cost for in-state tuition at a four-year public college, according to the Economic Policy Institute. Access to no-cost options, like the Hebbronville after-school program, has positive effects on student attendance, behavior and learning, multiplestudies have found over the years. Such programs also keep families from having to choose between leaving their children unattended or taking time off work to stay home.
“That has a direct impact on future economic prospects for that entire family,” said Jenna Courtney, CEO of the Texas Partnership for Out of School Time, a youth advocacy organization.
Mendez, the 44-year-old Hebbronville mother with two daughters, commutes about an hour to and from Laredo every weekday to make it to her job as a nurse. She goes in at 9 a.m. and gets out at 5 p.m. Her husband operates heavy equipment and has an unpredictable work schedule.
After picking up her daughters, Mendez cooks for them and spends some time with them before she starts working from home for an additional three to four hours. The after-school program Mendez’s daughters attend allows her to save some money on daycare costs. Credit: Gabriel V. Cárdenas for The Texas Tribune
The after-school program “gives me enough time to get to town to pick them up,” she said. But with the district planning to shutter operations, Mendez needed to find care providers who could look after her children until 6-6:30 p.m., when she gets home. She pays about $1,000 a month for that service during the summer when the school program is out of session. It would likely cost her another $800 per month during the academic year.
“That’s a big chunk of our money,” Mendez said.
Without the program, she would need to find a second job.
“We’ll do what we gotta do,” she added. “But I don’t understand.”
Catalaya Avaneh Mendez plays with her sister Catiana Ester Mendez as their mother watches them at her home. The Trump administration recently froze funding that benefits after-school programs, placing financial stress on parents such as the Mendez. They would have to find and pay for daycare for their children if those programs ended. Credit: Gabriel V. Cárdenas for The Texas Tribune
Hibbitts, the 57-year-old from Throckmorton, recently joined a federally funded program that would allow her to support students in her rural hometown between Abilene and Wichita Falls. It places aspiring full-time teachers in classrooms under the supervision of more seasoned teachers and provides financial assistance for their education and living expenses.
In exchange, the district gets to retain educators familiar with the community and eager to teach.
Based on her own experience as a Throckmorton student in the 1970s, Hibbitts knows the monumental role teachers can play in a child’s life.
“They were almost like your second mother,” she said.
Texas has the largest rural population of any state in the country. Of its roughly 5.5 million students, 13% attend class on a rural campus. Those schools often have to educate their students with less: Less access to the internet and technology, less staffing, and less money to pay and retain teachers.
Educator Gay Hibbitts, left, speaks with her mentor, Amy Dick, a secondary social studies teacher, inside a classroom at Throckmorton Collegiate ISD on July 29, 2025. Hibbitts was part of a federally funded educator preparation program serving about 30 participants across 11 rural Texas districts. Credit: Desiree Rios for The Texas Tribune
Texas lawmakers have acknowledged that rural teachers often do not make as much as their urban and suburban counterparts, and that many have left the profession because of a lack of support. Public schools over time have also grown more reliant on hiring unlicensed educators, a trend playing out more profoundly in the rural parts of Texas.
In response, state officials recently passed laws aimed at raising teacher pay, particularly in rural schools, and enhancing teacher preparation programs.
During her first year in the Throckmorton program, Hibbitts learned how to incorporate state learning standards into lesson plans. She learned how to keep students engaged. She helped a child who struggled academically and acted out at the beginning of the school year become a “model student” who thrived in reading by the year’s end.
Then, one Sunday afternoon in April, her superintendent called her.
The Trump administration had abruptly cut the federal dollars that helped schools fund educator preparation initiatives like the one she was participating in. It would affect about 30 people across 11 rural districts in Texas.
Hibbitts was one of them.
Hibbitts participates in a safety training at Throckmorton Collegiate ISD. The funding for Hibbitts’ educator preparation program, which covered her two years of college and training costs, was cut on April 25 under the Trump administration, leaving her uncertain about her future. Credit: Desiree Rios for The Texas Tribune
In Hebbronville, Mendez and Peña each had to confront their own harsh realities. Mendez would have to search for child care in a community with few affordable options. Peña, the after-school program coordinator, would have to find a new job.
In Austin, Martin and Blankenship had trouble picturing life without the Boys and Girls Club.
Club leaders began preparing a memo to notify parents about the funding uncertainty and what it could mean for their kids. Nothing had come of the Republican, Democratic and legal efforts seeking the release of the frozen funds. The Texas kids who spoke with congressional lawmakers and staff at the U.S. Capitol hadn’t heard anything either. When the administration would make a decision about the funds was anyone’s guess.
When Blankenship got the news, he sprinted out of his room in excitement and told his mom. The moment was just as surreal for Martin.
“Knowing that it could have been me, my story, or any other club kids’ story,” Martin said, “it made me happy. But it was like, ‘Dang. I was a part — we were a part of that.’”
Peña, the Hebbronville Elementary program coordinator, was relieved. The mood in her group chat with people from the district’s after-school programs was “pretty ecstatic.” They all cried. Getting the funds meant they no longer had to look for new jobs, and parents like Mendez wouldn’t have to go searching for a place to take care of their kids after school.
Hibbitts is pursuing a bachelor’s degree in general studies with an emphasis in education and a minor in psychology at West Texas A&M. Credit: Desiree Rios for The Texas Tribune
Hibbitts, meanwhile, wasn’t immediately able to bask in the good news, as it did not restore the federal funds for her district’s teacher preparation program. But in early August, her supervisor notified her that the program was officially back up and running for the 2025-26 school year. The news cleared the way for the 57-year-old to graduate at the end of the year and to start teaching full time by the next.
“This has been life changing for somebody of my age, to be able to step up and to step into the world of education,” Hibbitts said. “I’m finishing my dream. And as my kids like to say, ‘Mom, you’re going to be 58 years old walking the stage.’”
Still, she recognizes that so much uncertainty around federal funding means there is no guarantee others will get the same chance.
Uncertainty is what Peña also keeps coming back to.
“It just gets me upset with the administration, because, why? What was the purpose of the freeze? Why did you do that? You’re hurting people, not just adults, but children,” Peña said. “It’s like in a divorce, you don’t want to put the children in the middle. If something were to happen between parents, you never put children in the middle. And by doing that, you put children in the middle.”
This article originally appeared in The Texas Tribune, a member-supported, nonpartisan newsroom informing and engaging Texans on state politics and policy. Learn more at texastribune.org.
Today’s middle schoolers continue to struggle post-pandemic to read and write at the level needed to successfully navigate more complex academic content in the upper grades and beyond, according to a new report from NWEA, a K-12 assessment and research organization.
Based on NWEA’s research, current 8th graders would need close to a full academic year of additional instruction to catch up to their pre-pandemic peers in reading. This trend was reiterated in recent assessment results from the National Assessment on Educational Progress (NAEP), with only 30 percent of eighth-grade students performing at or above the NAEP proficient level.
While early literacy initiatives have garnered attention in recent years, the fact remains that many students struggle to read and are not prepared for the rigors of middle school. Students quickly find themselves challenged to keep up as they no longer receive explicit, structured reading instruction, even as they are expected to comprehend increasingly complex materials across subjects, like science, history, or English Language Arts.
“Our current middle and high schoolers were just starting their literacy journey when the pandemic hit, and we cannot lessen the urgency to support them. But, middle school literacy is complex even for students who are reading on grade level. This demands intentional, well-funded, and focused policy leadership that includes support across the K-12 spectrum,” said Daughtery. “Simply put, learning to read is not done when a student exits elementary school; support cannot stop there either.”
Policymakers and district leaders must adopt a systems-level approach that supports both early learners and the unique literacy needs of middle and high school students.
The new report provides four components that can be leveraged to make this happen:
Use high-quality, grade-appropriate assessments that provide specific data on the literacy needs of middle schoolers.
Look at flexible scheduling and policies that promote literacy development throughout the entire school day and help districts more effectively use instructional time.
Understand and support the unique literacy needs of middle schoolers across subjects and disciplines from a systems perspective and invest in teacher professional learning in all disciplines, including at the upper grades, within state and district literacy plans.
Curate relationships with external partners, like community organizations and nonprofits, who share similar goals in improving literacy outcomes, and can both support and reinforce literacy development, stretching beyond the school’s hours and resources.
eSchool Media staff cover education technology in all its aspects–from legislation and litigation, to best practices, to lessons learned and new products. First published in March of 1998 as a monthly print and digital newspaper, eSchool Media provides the news and information necessary to help K-20 decision-makers successfully use technology and innovation to transform schools and colleges and achieve their educational goals.
Like their peers nationwide, students at Crawford County Middle School in southern Indiana struggled academically in the pandemic’s wake. Principal Tarra Carothers knew her students needed help to get back on track.
So two years ago, she decided to double instructional time for math and English. Students now spend two periods per day in these critical subjects. Carothers believes the change has been a success, and a key trend backs her up: Crawford’s ILEARN scores in English language arts increased by over 8 percentage points from 2024 to 2025.
But overall, Indiana middle schools are heading in the opposite direction when it comes to English. In fact, despite gains in math, middle schoolers are struggling more than students in other grade levels in English, state test scores show. Since 2021, ILEARN English proficiency rates in seventh and eighth grades have fallen, with the dip particularly pronounced for seventh graders. And while their scores are up slightly compared with four years ago, sixth graders’ performance fell over the past year.
Indiana has made significant and much-publicized investments in early literacy, relying heavily on the science of reading, as many states have in the last few years. But that instructional transformation has come too late for current middle schoolers. Meanwhile, ILEARN English scores for third and fourth graders have risen by relatively small levels since the pandemic, although this improvement has been uneven.
The Board of Education expressed specific concerns about middle schoolers’ performance at a July 16 meeting. “We’ve gotta pick it up and make sure all of our middle school kids are reading, provide those additional supports,” said Secretary of Education Katie Jenner.
Some middle school leaders say strategies they’ve used can turn things around. In addition to increasing instructional time for key subjects, they point to participation in a pilot that allows students to take ILEARN at several points over the school year, instead of just once in the spring. Educators say relying on these checkpoints can provide data-driven reflection and remediation for students that shows up in better test scores.
Middle school an ‘optimum time’ for students’ recovery
Katie Powell, director for middle level programs at the Association for Middle Level Education, said she often asks teachers if middle schoolers seem different since the pandemic and “heads nod,” she said. These post-pandemic middle schoolers are harder to motivate and engage, self-report more stress, and are less likely to take risks academically, Powell said.
When the pandemic hit, “they were young, at the age of school where they’re developing basic reading fluency and math fact fluency,” she said. Current eighth graders, for example, were in second grade when the pandemic shut down schools and many learned online for much of their third grade year. Third grade is when students are supposed to stop learning to read and start “reading to learn,” Powell said.
Powell noted that middle schoolers are in the stage of rapid development with the most changes for the brain and body outside of infancy.
“This is actually an optimum time to step in and step up for them,” she said. “It is not too late. But it’s critical that we pay attention to them now.”
Crawford County Middle School has nine periods every day, and students spend two periods each in both math and English. While many schools have some version of block scheduling, many have a model in which students only go to each class every other day. But at Crawford, students attend every class every day. Their version of block scheduling results in double the amount of instructional time in math and English.
To make this switch, sacrifices had to be made. Periods were shortened, resulting in less time for other subjects. Carothers worried that student scores in subjects like science and social studies would decrease. But the opposite occurred, she said. Sixth grade science scores increased, for example, even though students were spending less time in the science classroom, according to Carothers.
“If they have better math skills and better reading skills, then they’re gonna perform better in social studies and science,” she said.
Meanwhile, at Cannelton Jr. Sr. High School, on the state line with Kentucky, the first three periods of the day are 90 minutes, rather than the typical 45. Every student has English or math during these first three periods, allowing for double the normal class time.
Cannelton’s sixth through eighth grade English language arts ILEARN scores increased by nearly nine percentage points last year.
Schools use more data to track student performance
Cannelton Principal Brian Garrett believes his school’s reliance on data, and its new approach to getting it, is also part of their secret.
Students take benchmark assessments early, in the first two or three weeks of school, so that teachers can track their progress and find gaps in knowledge.
This year, the state is adopting that strategy for schools statewide. Rather than taking ILEARN once near the end of the year, students will take versions of the test three separate times, with a shortened final assessment in the spring. The state ran a pilot for ILEARN checkpoints last school year, with over 70% of Indiana schools taking part.
The Indiana Department of Education hopes checkpoints will make the data from the test more actionable and help families and teachers ensure a student is on track throughout the year.
Kim Davis, principal of Indian Creek Middle School in rural Trafalgar, said she believes ILEARN checkpoints, paired with reflection and targeted remediation efforts by teachers, “helped us inform instruction throughout the year instead of waiting until the end of the year to see did they actually master it according to the state test.”
The checkpoints identified what standards students were struggling with, allowing Indian Creek teachers to tailor their instruction. Students also benefitted from an added familiarity with the test; they could see how questions would be presented when it was time for the final assessment in the spring.
“It felt very pressure-free, but very informative for the teachers,” Davis said.
The type of data gathered matters too. In the past, Washington Township middle schools used an assessment called NWEA, taken multiple times throughout the year, to measure student learning, said Eastwood Middle School Principal James Tutin. While NWEA was a good metric for measuring growth, it didn’t align with Indiana state standards, so the scores didn’t necessarily match how a student would ultimately score on a test like ILEARN.
Last year, the district adopted ILEARN checkpoints instead, and used a service called Otis to collect weekly data.
It took approximately six minutes for students to answer a few questions during a class period with information that educators could then put into Otis. That data allowed teachers to target instruction during gaps between ILEARN checkpoints.
“Not only were they getting the practice through the checkpoints, but they were getting really targeted feedback at the daily and weekly level, to make sure that we’re not waiting until the checkpoint to know how our students are likely going to do,” Tutin said.
Both Davis and Tutin stressed that simply having students take the checkpoint ILEARN tests was not enough; it had to be paired with reflection and collaboration between teachers, pushing each other to ask the tough questions and evaluate their own teaching.
“We still have a fire in us to grow further, we’re not content with where we are,” Davis said. “But we’re headed in the right direction and that’s very exciting.”
This story was originally published by Chalkbeat. Chalkbeat is a nonprofit news site covering educational change in public schools. Sign up for their newsletters at ckbe.at/newsletters.
July 28, 2025, by Dr. Chet Haskell: The headlines are full of uncertainty for American higher education. “Crisis” is a common descriptor. Federal investigations of major institutions are underway. Severe cuts to university research funding have been announced. The elimination of the Department of Education is moving ahead. Revisions to accreditation processes are being floated. Reductions in student support for educational grants and loans are now law. International students are being restricted.
These uncertainties and pressures affect all higher education, not just targeted elite institutions. In particular, they are likely to exacerbate the fragility of smaller, independent non-profit institutions already under enormous stress. Such institutions, some well-known, others known only locally, will be hard hit particularly hard by the combination of Trump Administration pressures and the developing national demographic decline for traditional-age students.(https://www.highereddive.com/news/decline-high-school-graduates-demographic-cliff-wiche-charts/738281/) These small colleges have been a key element of the American higher education scene, as well as for numerous local communities, for many decades.
It is widely understood that the vibrancy of American higher education comes, in part, from the diversity of its institutions and educational goals. The rich mixture of American colleges and universities is a strength that many other nations lack. Students have opportunities to start and stop their educations, to change directions and academic goals, to move among different types of institutions.
Smaller undergraduate colleges play important roles in this non-systemic system. They provide focused educational opportunities for younger adults, where they can build their lives on broad principles. Impressively large percentages of small college graduates go on to graduate education for various professions. Small colleges provide large numbers of graduates who enter PhD programs and eventually enter the professorate.
There are approximately 1179 accredited private institutions with enrollments of fewer than 3000 students. Of these, 185 have between 3000 and 2000 students. Another 329 have enrollments below 2000 but above 1000. A final 650 institutions have enrollments below 1000. These 1179 institutions students include few wealthy colleges such as Williams, Amherst, Carleton or Pomona, as well as numerous struggling, relatively unknowns.
A basic problem is one of scale. In the absence of significant endowments or other external support, it is very difficult to manage small institutions in a cost effective manner. Institutions with enrollments below 1000 are particularly challenged in this regard. The fundamental economics of small institutions are always challenging, as most are almost completely dependent on student enrollments, a situation getting worse with the coming decline of traditional college age students. There are limited options available to offset this decline. Renewed attention to student retention is one. Another is adding limited graduate programs. However, both take investment, appropriate faculty and staff capacity and time, all of which are often scarce.
These institutions have small endowments measured either in total or per student value. Of the 1179. There are only 80 with total endowments in excess of $200 million. While a handful have per student endowments that rival the largest private universities, (Williams, Amherst and Pomona all have per student endowments in excess of $1.8 million), the vast majority have per student endowments in the $40,000 range and many far less.
Most of these schools have high tuition discount rates, often over 50%, so their net tuition revenue is a fraction of posted expense. They are all limited by size – economies of scale are difficult to achieve. And most operate in highly competitive markets, where the competition is not only other small schools, but also a range of public institutions.
So, what is the underendowed, under resourced small college to do?
The most common initiatives designed to address these sorts of challenges are consortia, collaborative arrangements among institutions designed to increase student options and to share expenses. There are numerous such arrangements, examples being the Colleges of the Fenway in Boston, the Five Colleges of Western Massachusetts, the Washington DC Metropolitan Area Consortium, and the Claremont Colleges in California, among others.
The particulars of each of these groups differ, but there are commonalities. Most are geographically oriented, seeking to take advantage from being near each other. Typically, these groups want to provide more opportunities for students through allowing cross-registrations, sharing certain academic programs or joint student activities. They usually have arrangements for cost-sharing or cost reductions through shared services for costs like security services, IT, HR, risk management options, pooled purchasing and the like. In other cases (like the Claremont Consortium) they may share libraries or student athletic facilities. Done well, these arrangements can indeed reduce costs while also attracting potential students through wider access to academic options.
However, it is unlikely that such initiatives, no matter how successful, can fundamentally change the basic financial situation of an independent small college. Such shared services savings are necessary and useful, but usually not sufficient to offset the basic enrollment challenge. The financial impact of most consortia is at the margins.
Furthermore, participating institutions have to be on a solid enough financial basis to take part in the first place. Indeed, a consortium like Claremont is based on financial strength. Two of the members have endowments in excess of $1.2 billion (Pomona’s is $2.8 billion.) The endowments of the others range from a low of $67 million (Keck Graduate with 617 students) to Scripps with $460 million for 1100 students.) The Consortium is of clear value to its members, but none of these institutions is on the brink of failure. Rather, all have strong reputations, a fact that provides another important enrollment advantage.
One important factor in these consortia arrangements is that the participating institutions do not have to give up their independence or modify their missions. Their finances, alumni and accreditation are separate. And while the nature of the arrangement indicates certain levels of compromise and collaboration, their governance remains basically unchanged with independent fiduciary boards.
At the other end of the spectrum are two radically different situations. One is merging with or being acquired by another institution. Prep Scholar counts 33 such events since 2015. (https://blog.prepscholar.com/permanently-closed-colleges-list). Lacking the resources for financial sustainability, many colleges have had no choice but to take such steps.
Merging or being acquired by a financially stronger institution has many advantages. Faculty and staff jobs may be protected. Students can continue with their studies. The institution being acquired may be able to provide continuity in some fashion within the care of the new owner. Endowed funds may continue. The institution’s name may continue as part of an “institute” or “center” within the new owner’s structure. Alumni records can be maintained. Real estate can be transferred. Debts may be paid off and so forth. There are multiple examples of the acquiring institution doing everything possible along these lines.
But some things end. Independent governance and accreditation cease as those functions are subsumed by the acquiring institution. Administrative and admissions staffs are integrated and some programs, people and activities are shed. Operational leadership changes. And over time, what was once a beloved independent institution may well fade away.
The end of a college is a very sad thing for all involved and, indeed, for society in general. Often a college is an anchor institution in a small community and the loss is felt widely. The closure of a college is akin to the closure of a local factory. As Dean Hoke and others have noted, this is a particular problem for rural communities.
Are there other possible avenues, something between a consortium and a merger or outright closure?
One relatively new model has been organized by two quite different independent institutions, Otterbein University and Antioch University, that came together in 2022 to create the Coalition for the Common Good. Designed to be more than a simple bilateral partnership, the vision of the Coalition is eventually to include several institutions in different locations linked by a common mission and the capacity to grow collective enrollments.
At its core, the Coalition is based on academic symbiosis. Otterbein is a good example of the high-quality traditional undergraduate residential liberal arts institution. It has been well-run and has modest financial resources. Facing the demographic challenges noted earlier (in a state like Ohio that boasts dozens of such institutions), it developed a set of well-regarded graduate programs, notably in nursing and health-related fields, along with locally based teacher education programs and an MBA. However, despite modest success, they faced the limitations of adult programs largely offered in an on-campus model. Regardless of quality, they lacked the capacity to expand such programs beyond Central Ohio.
Antioch University, originally based in Ohio, had evolved over the past 40 years into a more national institution with locations in California, Washington State and New Hampshire offering a set of graduate professional programs to older adults mostly through distance modalities in hybrid or low-residency forms. Antioch, however, was hampered by limited resources including a very small endowment. It had demonstrated the capacity to offer new programs in different areas and fields but lacked the funds necessary for investment to do so.
Within the Coalition, the fundamental arrangement is for Antioch to take over Otterbein’s graduate programs and, with Otterbein financial support, to expand them in other parts of the country. The goal is significant aggregate enrollment growth and sharing of new revenues. While they plan a shared services operation to improve efficiencies and organizational effectiveness, their primary objective is growth. Antioch seeks to build on Otterbein’s successes, particularly with nursing programs. It already has considerable experience in managing academic programs at a distance, a fact that will be central as it develops the Otterbein nursing and health care programs in a new Antioch Graduate School of Nursing and Health Professions.
It is assumed that additional new members of the Coalition will resemble Otterbein in form, thus further increasing opportunities for growth through enhanced reach and greater scale. New members in other geographic locations will provide additional opportunities for expansion. One early success of the Coalition has been the capacity to offer existing Antioch programs in Central Ohio, including joint partnerships with local organizations, health care and educational systems. Crucially, both institutions remain separately accredited with separate governance and leadership under a Coalition joint “umbrella” structure.
This is not to assert that this model would work for many other institutions. First, many schools with limited graduate programs will be reluctant to “give up” some or all these programs to another partner in the same fashion as Otterbein has with Antioch. Others may not fit geographically, being too remote for expansion of existing programs. Still others may not wish to join a group with an avowed social justice mission. Finally, as with some consortia, the Coalition arrangement assumes a certain degree of institutional financial stability – it cannot work for institutions on the brink of financial disaster, lest the weakest institution drag down the others.
Are there other organizational variants that are more integrated than consortia, but allow the retention of their independence in ways impossible in a merger or acquisition model? What can be learned from the Coalition initiative that might help others? How might such middle-ground collaboration models be encouraged and supported?
How can philanthropy help?
This is an opportunity for the segments of the philanthropic world to consider possible new initiatives to support the small college elements of the education sector. While there will always be efforts to gain foundation support for individual colleges, there will never be enough money to buttress even a small portion of deserving institutions that face the financial troubles discussed above
Philanthropy should take a sectoral perspective. One key goal should be to find ways to support smaller institutions in general. Instead of focusing on gifts to particular institutions, those interested in supporting higher education should look at the multiple opportunities for forms of collaborative or collective action. Central to this effort should be exploration of ways of supporting diverse collaborative initiatives. One example would be to provide sufficient backing to a struggling HBCU or women’s college to enable it to be sufficiently stable to participate in a multi-institutional partnership.
As noted, institutional consortia are well established as one avenue for such collaboration. Consortia have existed for many years. There are consortia-based associations that encourage and support consortia efforts. However, every consortium is unique in its own ways, as participating institutions have crafted a specific initiative of a general model to meet their particular situations and need. Consortia can be important structures for many institutions and should be encouraged.
But there is a large middle ground between consortia arrangements and mergers and acquisitions. The Coalition for the Common Good is but one such arrangement and it is still in its early stages. What has been learned from the experience thus far that might be of use to other institutions and groups? How might this middle ground be explored further for the benefit of other institutions?
One thing learned from the Coalition is the complexity of developing a new model for collective action. Antioch and Otterbein separately pursued individual explorations of options for two or more years before determining that their partnership together should move forward. It then took a full year to get to the point of announcing their plans and another year to complete negotiations and sign completed legal documents and to obtain the necessary accreditor, regulator and Department of Education approvals. The actual implementation of their plans is still in a relatively early stage. In short, it takes time.
It also takes tremendous effort by leadership on both sides, as they must work closely together while continuing to address the daily challenges of their separate institutions. Everyone ends up with at least two major jobs. Communication is vital. Boards must continue to be supportive. The engagement of faculty and staff takes time and can be costly.
What is often referred to as “fit” – the melding of cultures and attitudes at both the institutional and individual levels – is essential. People must be able to work together for shared goals. The burdens of accreditation, while necessary, are time-consuming and multifaceted. There are many things that can go wrong. Indeed, there are examples of planned and announced mergers or collaborations that fall apart before completion.
Philanthropic institutions could support this work in numerous ways, first for specific initiatives and then for the sector, by providing funding and expertise to facilitate new forms of coalitions. These could include:
Providing financial support for the collaborative entity. While participating institutions eventually share the costs of creating the new arrangement, modest dedicated support funding could be immensely useful for mitigating the impact of legal expenses, due diligence requirements, initial management of shared efforts and expanded websites.
Providing support for expert advice. The leaders of two institutions seeking partnership need objective counsel on matters financial, legal, organizational, accreditation and more. Provision of expertise for distance education models is often a high priority, since many small colleges have limited experience with these.
Funding research. There are multiple opportunities for research and its dissemination. What works? What does not? How can lessons learned by disseminated?
Supporting communication through publications, workshops, conferences and other venues.
Developing training workshops for boards, leadership, staff and faculty in institutions considering collaborations.
Crafting a series of institutional incentives through seed grant awards to provide support for institutions just beginning to consider these options.
These types of initiatives might be separate, or they might be clustered into a national center to support and promote collaboration.
These and other ideas could be most helpful to many institutions exploring collaboration. Above all, it is important to undertake such explorations before it is too late, before the financial situation becomes so dire that there are few, if any, choices.
Conclusions
This middle ground is not a panacea. The harsh reality is that not all institutions can be saved. It takes a certain degree of stability and a sufficient financial base to even consider consortia or middle ground arrangements like the Coalition for the Common Good. Merging with or being acquired by stronger institutions is not a worst-case scenario – there are often plenty of reasons, not just financial, that this form of change makes great sense for a smaller, weaker institution.
It is also important for almost all institutions, even those with significant endowment resources, to be thinking about possible options. The stronger the institution, the stronger the resistance to such perspectives is likely to be. There are examples of wealthy undergraduate institutions with $1 billion endowments that are losing significant sums annually in their operating budgets. Such endowments often act like a giant pillow, absorbing the institutional challenges and preventing boards and leaders from facing difficult decisions until it may be too late. Every board should be considering possible future options.
In the face of likely government rollbacks of support, the ongoing demographic challenges for smaller institutions and the general uncertainties in some circle about the importance of higher education itself, independent private higher education must be more creative and assertive about its future. Also, it is essential to remember that the existential financial challenges facing these institutions predate the current Presidential Administration and certainly will remain once it has passed into history.
Just trying to compete more effectively for enrollments will not be sufficient. Neither will simply reducing expense budgets. New collaborative models are needed. Consortia have roles to play. The example of the Coalition for the Common Good may show new directions forward. Anyone who supports the diversity of American higher education institutions should work to find new ways of assuring financial stability while adhering to academic principles and core missions.
Chet Haskell is an independent higher education consultant. Most recently, he was Vice Chancellor for Academic Affairs and University Provost at Antioch University and Vice President for Graduate Programs of the Coalition for the Common Good.
The State of Israel was created in 1948. The key word is created. While countries come into being in many different ways, such as violence, revolutions and treaties, the creation of the state of Israel was unique and has proven highly controversial.
To understand the chaos that is now taking place in Israel and the Palestinian territories, one needs to return to that original creation.
The British government ruled the territory known as Palestine under the League of Nations from 1922 until 1948. Already in 1917, the British government issued what is known as the Balfour Declaration which envisioned a Jewish state in what had been claimed a historic Jewish homeland.
Jewish organisations had argued that the land called Israel has been the religious and spiritual center for Jews for thousands of years. While many countries recognized the new State of Israel in 1948, its creation did not effectively redress the dislocation of those who had been living on the territory that Israelis would inhabit.
Following the end of World War II, European Jews who had been displaced during the Holocaust flocked to Israel. The United Nations divided the land into two states, one Jewish, one Arab, which further divided the Arab territory into three sections — the Golan Heights at the Syrian border, the West Bank at the Jordanian border and the Gaza Strip at the Egyptian border.
The creation of deep divisions
The division gave more than 50% of the land to Israel, leaving the Arabs with 42% even though they made up two-thirds of the population.
This resulted in massive Arab displacement and is why the Jewish Independence Day of May 14 is followed by the marking of Nakba Day by Arabs, translated as “The Catastrophe”.
Since Israel’s founding in 1948, there have been several outbreaks of violence between Israel and its neighbors. Among them were the 1948–49 War of Israeli Independence; 1956 Suez Canal Crisis; 1967 Six-Day War; 1973 Yom Kippur War; 1982 Lebanon War and various large-scale Palestinian uprisings known as Intifadas.
None of these conflicts resulted in reparations for the hundreds of thousands of Arabs displaced by Israel’s creation, many of whom ended up in crowded refugee camps in Gaza, the West Bank and neighboring countries.
Further inflaming tensions, Israeli settlers have continued establishing communities in the West Bank, which was conquered by Israel in the 1967 Six-Day War. The international community considers these colonies illegal, and some of the settlers have been found guilty of violence against the Arabs who live there.
Working towards peace
There have been several attempts to have peace agreements between Israel and its neighbors.
The most important are the Camp David Accords of 1978 which was finally reduced to simple diplomatic relations between Egypt and Israel, and the 1993 Oslo accords which established formal relations between Israel and the Palestinian leadership, giving the latter self-governance over the Gaza Strip and the West Bank. Recently, there were talks about a larger regional agreement including Saudi Arabia.
Then came 7 October 2023, when Hamas, an Islamist militant group, attacked Israeli settlers killing more than a thousand people, many of them women and children, and taking over 200 Israeli hostages.
Israel’s response to the Hamas attack, which it justified as legitimate self-defense, has seen more than 32,000 Gazans killed with over 70,000 wounded, mostly civilians with many elderly and children. Much of Gaza’s infrastructure has been destroyed, including hospitals and humanitarian aid has been blocked. Fighting has continued for more than six months as Israel seeks to destroy Hamas and at the same time free the hostages.
The emotions behind the conflict are extreme. The Israelis condemn Hamas as a terrorist organisation whom they argue are out to kill all Jews and destroy the State of Israel. Hamas, which was the official ruling organisation in the Gaza Strip, maintains that Palestinians have been reduced to living in an open-air prison since it took control of Gaza in 2005 when Israel disengaged.
Israel and the international community
The fighting in Gaza has raised many questions relevant to international humanitarian law. South Africa brought a case before the International Court of Justice in The Hague accusing Israel of genocide. The Court ruled that there was “plausible” genocide and ordered several provisional measures Israel must follow, among them increasing access to humanitarian aid.
Beyond Israel, Hamas and the International Court of Justice, various resolutions have been proposed before the United Nations Security Council concerning a ceasefire. Although the latest resolution did pass, with the United States abstaining and not using its veto power, no ceasefire has taken place, although increased humanitarian aid is now entering Gaza.
But the situation of the Palestinians remaining in Gaza remains precarious at best.
The Israel/Hamas conflict has spread to other countries in the region, including Iran, which has long been a supporter of Hamas. On 1 April 2024, Israeli warplanes destroyed a building in Damascus, Syria, part of an Iranian Embassy complex, killing several Iranian officers involved in covert actions in the Middle East.
Shortly after, Iran sent hundreds of drones and cruise missiles towards Israel, which were largely intercepted by Israeli and U.S. air defenses. Subsequently, several drones were downed by Iran’s air defense system near Isfahan, but it is not clear whether they came from Israel or other sources.
What is clear is that there has been enormous international pressure to de-escalate the current situation in order to stop the Israel/Hamas conflict from growing into a regional conflict involving Iran and other countries, or even a more global escalation of violence.
Questions to consider:
1. How did the United Nations divide Palestine to create the state of Israel?
2. What happened to the people displaced in 1948 when Isreal was created?
3. What kind of compromises do you think might have to take place for there to be peace between Israelis and Palestinians?
Indianapolis, IN — Project POTUS, a national middle school history initiative from the Benjamin Harrison Presidential Site, has named winners for this year’s competition.
Since the founding of our nation, there have been nearly half a billion American citizens. Of those, over 12,000 of us have served in Congress. Just 115 have become Supreme Court Justices. Only 45 citizens have become President of the United States. There’s something exceptional about each POTUS — good, bad, or otherwise. Project POTUS? challenges students in middle school to research an American president and create a video, 60 seconds or less, representing the POTUS chosen in a way that is creative, supported by good history research, and fun. A Citizen Jury made up of nearly 100 people reviewed all qualifying submissions and selected this year’s winners.
Grand Jury’s Grand Prize and Spotlight Award Selections
Grand Prize Winner ($500 award)
6th grader Peter Gestwicki from Muncie, Indiana won grand prize for his video about Theodore Roosevelt. Watch his winning video here.
Spotlight Award Winners ($400 award winners)
8th grader Grace Whitworth from St. Richard’s Episcopal School in Indianapolis, Indiana won for her video about President Thomas Jefferson. Watch her winning video here.
8th grader Izzy Abraham from Sycamore School in Indianapolis, Indiana for her video about President Calvin Coolidge. Watch his winning video here.
8th grader Clara Haley from St. Richards Episcopal School in Indianapolis, Indiana for her video about President George W. Bush. Watch his winning video here.
8th graders Delaney Guy and Nora Steinhauser from Cooperative Middle School in Stratham, New Hampshire for their video about President James Polk. Watch their winning video here.
37 students throughout the country each won their Presidential Category and received $100 awards. Check out all of their videos here.
The 2026 Project POTUS competition begins Election Day, November 4, 2025 and all submissions must be entered by Presidents Day, February 16, 2026. Learn more here.
Project POTUS is made possible by the generous support from Russell & Penny Fortune.
About the Benjamin Harrison Presidential Site
The Benjamin Harrison Presidential Site is the former home of the 23rd U.S. President. Now celebrating its 150th anniversary, it is a stunningly restored National Historic Landmark that shares the legacy of Indiana’s only President and First Lady with tens of thousands of people annually through guided tours, educational programs, special events and cultural programs. Rated “Top 5 Stately Presidential Homes You Can Visit” by Architectural Digest, the Harrison’s 10,000 square foot Italianate residence in downtown Indianapolis houses nearly 11,000 curated artifacts spanning more than two centuries of American and presidential history. Recently expanded and restored through a $6 million campaign, the Benjamin Harrison Presidential Site is also consistently ranked a Top 5 Thing To Do in Indianapolis by TripAdvisor. Signature programs and initiatives include: Future Presidents of America; Project POTUS, Candlelight Theatre; Juneteenth Foodways Festival; Wicket World of Croquet; and Off the Record. Founded in 1966 as a private 501c(3) that receives no direct federal support, the Benjamin Harrison Presidential Site is dedicated to increasing public participation in the American system of self-government through the life stories, arts and culture of an American President. Find out more at PresidentBenjaminHarrison.org.
eSchool Media staff cover education technology in all its aspects–from legislation and litigation, to best practices, to lessons learned and new products. First published in March of 1998 as a monthly print and digital newspaper, eSchool Media provides the news and information necessary to help K-20 decision-makers successfully use technology and innovation to transform schools and colleges and achieve their educational goals.
Students need more support around education paths and career options, including hands-on experiences, according to a new nationwide survey from the nonprofit American Student Assistance.
The survey of more than of 3,000 students in grades 7-12 offers insights into teens’ plans after high school. The research, Next Steps: An Analysis of Teens’ Post-High School Plans, uncovers evolving trends in teenagers’ attitudes, perceptions, and decision-making about their post-high school plans.
“This analysis of teens’ post high school plans reveals shifts in students’ thinking and planning. We need to change the way we help young people navigate the complex and evolving landscape of education and career options,” said Julie Lammers, Executive Vice President of ASA. “Starting in middle school, our young people need early access to opportunities that empowers them to explore careers that match their interests and strengths; hands-on, skills-based experiences in high school; and information and resources to navigate their path to postsecondary education and career. All of this will enable them to graduate informed, confident, and empowered about what they want to do with their futures.”
The survey offers notable findings regarding parental influence on teens’ planning, perceptions of nondegree pathways like trade or technical school, apprenticeships, and certificate programs, and a continued drop-off in kids’ plans to go to college immediately after high school graduation.
Key findings include:
Teens’ interest in college is down while nondegree paths are on the rise. Nearly half of all students said they aren’t interested in going to college, with just 45 percent saying two- or four-year college was their most likely next step. Meanwhile 38 percent of teens said they were considering trade or technical schools, apprenticeships, and technical bootcamp programs, although only 14 percent say that such a path is their most likely next step.
Parents are one of teens’ biggest influencers—and they’re skeptical of nondegree options. A vast majority (82 percent) of teens said their parents agree with their plans to go to four-year college, while only 66 percent said parents supported plans to pursue a nondegree route. In fact, teens reported parents were actually more supportive (70 percent) of foregoing education altogether right after high school vs. pursuing a nondegree program.
A concerning number of young people don’t have plans for further education or training. Nearly one quarter (23 percent) said they have no immediate plans to continue formal education or training upon graduation. Teens not planning to continue education after high school indicated they were thinking of beginning full-time work, entering a family business, starting their own business, or joining the military.
Teens, and especially middle schoolers, are feeling better prepared to plan their futures. In recent years policymakers, educators, employers, and other stakeholders have pushed to make career-connected learning a more prominent feature of our education to workforce system. Survey results say it’s paying off. Agreement with the statement “my school provides me with the right resources to plan for my next steps after high school” grew from just 59 percent in 2018, to 63 percent in 2021, to 82 percent in 2024. Notably, the largest increase occurred at the middle school level, where confidence in in-school planning resources jumped from 60 percent in 2018 to 90 percent in 2024.
Girls are much more likely to plan to attend college than boys. Boys and girls are equally interested in college when they’re in middle school, but by high school, more than half (53 percent) of girls say they’re likely to attend college compared to just 39 percent of boys. The gender gap is smaller when it comes to nondegree pathways: 15 percent of high school boys say they will likely attend vocational/trade school, participate in an apprenticeship, or take a certificate program, compared to 10 percent of high school girls.
City kids aren’t as “into” college. Urban teens were least likely (39 percent) to say they plan to go to college. Suburban teens are much more likely to plan to attend a college program (64 percent) while 46 percent of rural students planned on college.
Students of color are college bound. More than half (54 percent) of Black teens and 51 percent of Hispanic youth are planning to go to college, compared to 42 percent of White teens.
eSchool Media staff cover education technology in all its aspects–from legislation and litigation, to best practices, to lessons learned and new products. First published in March of 1998 as a monthly print and digital newspaper, eSchool Media provides the news and information necessary to help K-20 decision-makers successfully use technology and innovation to transform schools and colleges and achieve their educational goals.
Being arrested by armed riot police on my own campus was not, somehow, the most jarring thing that has happened to me since the spring of 2024. More disturbing was the experience of being canceled by my hometown.
In June 2024, I was supposed to give the second of two lectures in a series entitled “History of the Middle East and the Israeli-Palestinian Conflict” at the public library in San Anselmo, Calif., a leafy suburb of San Francisco best known as the longtime home of George Lucas.
I grew up in San Anselmo during the Sept. 11 era and vividly remember how stereotypes and misperceptions of the Middle East were used to justify war in Iraq and discrimination against Arabs and Muslims at home. I was shaped by the commonplace refrains of that moment, especially that Americans needed to learn more about the Middle East. So, I did. I learned Arabic and Farsi and spent years abroad living across the region. I earned a Ph.D. in Middle Eastern history and am now a professor at a public university in Colorado. I see teaching as a means of countering the misrepresentations that generate conflict.
But as the second lecture approached, I began receiving alarmed messages from the San Anselmo town librarian. She told me of a campaign to cancel the lecture so intense that discussions about how to respond involved the town’s elected officials, including the mayor. I was warned that “every word you utter tomorrow night will be scrutinized, dissected and used against you and the library” and that she had become “concerned for everyone’s well-being.” Just hours before it was scheduled to begin, the lecture was canceled.
I later learned more about what had transpired. At a subsequent town council meeting, the librarian described a campaign of harassment and intimidation that included “increasingly aggressive emails” and “coordinated in-person visits” so threatening that she felt that they undermined the safe working environment of library staff.
In Middle Eastern studies, such stories have become routine. A handful have received public attention—the instructor suspended for booking a room on behalf of a pro-Palestinian student organization, or the Jewish scholar of social movements investigated by Harvard University for supposed antisemitism. Professors have lost job offers or been fired. Even tenure is no protection. These well-publicized examples are accompanied by innumerable others which will likely never be known. In recent months, I have heard harrowing stories from colleagues: strangers showing up to classes and sitting menacingly in the back of the room; pressure groups contacting university administrators to demand that they be fired; visits from the FBI; a deluge of racist hate mail and death threats. It is no surprise that a recent survey of faculty in the field of Middle East Studies found that 98 percent of assistant professors self-censor when discussing Israel-Palestine.
Compared to the professors losingtheirjobs and the student demonstrators facing expulsion—and even deportation—my experience is insignificant. It is nothing compared to the scholasticide in Gaza, where Israeli forces have systematically demolished the educational infrastructure and killed untold numbers of academics and students. But the contrast between my anodyne actions and the backlash they have generated illustrates the remarkable breadth of the censorship that permeates American society. The mainstream discourse has been purged not just of Palestinian voices, but of scholarly ones. Most significantly, censorship at home justifies violence abroad. Americans are once again living in an alternate reality—with terribly real consequences.
On Oct. 7, 2023, it was clear that a deadly reprisal was coming. It was equally evident that no amount of force could free Israeli captives, let alone “defeat Hamas.” I contacted my university media office in hopes of providing valuable context. I had never given a TV interview before, so I spent hours preparing for a thoughtful discussion. Instead, I was asked if this was “Israel’s Pearl Harbor.”
Well, no, I explained. It was the tragic and predictable result of a so-called peace process that has, for 30 years and with U.S. complicity, done little more than provide cover for the expansion of Israeli settlements. Violence erupts when negotiation fails. Only by understanding why people turn to violence can we end it. I watched the story after it aired. Nearly the whole interview was cut.
I accepted or passed to colleagues all the interview requests that I received. But they soon dried up. Instead, I began receiving hate mail.
It quickly became clear that I had to take the initiative to engage with the public. I held a series of historical teach-ins on campus. The audience was attentive, but small. I reached out to a local school district where I had previously provided curriculum advice. I never heard back. I contacted my high school alma mater and offered to speak there. They were too afraid of backlash. I was eventually invited to speak at two libraries, including San Anselmo’s. Everyone else turned me down.
In April 2024, the Denver chapter of Students for a Democratic Society organized yet another protest in their campaign to pressure the University of Colorado to divest from companies complicit in the Israeli occupation. This event would be different. As one of the students spoke, others erected tents, launching what would become one of the longest-lasting encampments in the country.
There was no cause for panic. The encampment did not interfere with classes or even block the walkway around the quad. Instead, it became the kind of community space that is all too hard to build on a commuter campus. It hosted speakers, prayer meetings and craft circles. But as I left a faculty meeting the day after the start of the encampment, I sensed that something was wrong. I arrived on the quad to find a phalanx of armed riot police facing down a short row of students standing hand in hand on the lawn.
Fearing what would happen next, two colleagues and I joined the students and sat down, hoping to de-escalate the situation and avoid violence. The police surrounded us, preventing any escape. Then they were themselves surrounded by faculty, students and community members who were clearly outraged by their presence. We sat under the sun for nearly two hours as chaos swirled around us. The protesters cleared away the tents to demonstrate their compliance. It made no difference. Forty of us were arrested, zip-tied and jailed. I was charged with interference and trespassing. Others faced more serious charges. I was detained for more than 12 hours, until 3:00 in the morning.
The arrests backfired. When the police departed, the protesters returned, invigorated by an outpouring of community support. I visited the encampment regularly over the following weeks. When the threat of war with Iran loomed, I gave a talk about Iranian history. When the activists organized their own graduation, they invited me to give a commencement address. I spoke about their accomplishments: that they had taken real risks, made real sacrifices and faced real consequences in order to do what was right. The encampment became the place where I could speak most freely, on campus or off.
While the encampment came to an end in May, the prosecutions did not. The city offered me deferred prosecution, meaning that the matter would be dropped if I did not break the law for six months. I am not, to put it lightly, a seasoned lawbreaker, so the deal would have effectively made everything disappear. I turned it down. Accepting the offer would have prevented me from challenging the legality of the arrests, and I was determined to do what I could to prevent armed riot police from ever again suppressing a peaceful student demonstration. It was a matter of principle and precedent. A civil rights attorney agreed to represent me pro bono. I would fight the charges.
During my pretrial hearings, I learned more about the cancellation of my lecture in San Anselmo. A local ceasefire group served the town with a freedom of information request that yielded hundreds of pages of emails. Two days before the talk was scheduled, one local resident sent an “all hands on deck” email that called for a coordinated campaign against my lecture “in hopes of getting it canceled.” A less technologically savvy recipient forwarded the message on to the library, providing an inside view.
The denunciations presented a version of myself that I did not recognize. The letters relied on innuendo and misrepresentation. Many claimed that I was “pro-Hamas” or accused me of antisemitism, which they invariably conflated with criticism of Israeli policy. Several expressed concern about what I might say, rather than anything I have ever actually said, while others misquoted me. Fodder for the campaign came largely from media reports of my arrest and video of my commencement address, both taken out of context. One claimed that the talk was “a violation of multiple Federal and California Statutes.” Another claimed that I “seemed to promote ongoing violence”—the lawyerly use of the word “seemed” betraying the lack of evidence behind the accusation.
Perhaps the most popular claim was that I am biased, an activist rather than a scholar. My opponents seemed especially offended by my use of the word “genocide.” But genocide is not an epithet—it is an analytical term that represents the consensus in my field. A survey of Middle East studies scholars conducted in the weeks surrounding the talk found that 75 percent viewed Israeli actions in Gaza as either “genocide” or “major war crimes akin to genocide.”
I was most struck by how many people objected to the idea of contextualizing the Oct. 7 attack; one even called it “insulting.” But contextualization is not justification. Placing events in a wider frame is central to the study of history—indeed, it is why history matters. If violence is not explained by the twists and turns of events, it can only be understood as the product of intrinsic qualities—that certain people, or groups of people, are inherently violent or uncivilized. In the absence of context, bigotry reigns.
I did what I could to fight back against the censorship campaign. After reading the library emails, I reached out to journalists at several local news outlets to inform them about the incident. None followed up. The only report ever published was written by an independent journalist on Substack.
In the weeks leading up to my trial, I wrote an op-ed calling for the charges to be dropped. I noted that the protest was entirely peaceful until the police arrived. I asked how our students, especially our undocumented students or students of color, can feel safe on campus when the authorities respond to peaceful demonstrations by calling the police. I sent the article to a local paper. I never heard back. I sent it to a second. Then a third. None responded. It was never published.
In October, prosecutors dropped the charges against me. The official order of dismissal stated that they did not believe that they had a reasonable likelihood of conviction. I have now joined a civil lawsuit against the campus police in the hope that it will make the authorities think twice before turning to the police to arrest student demonstrators.
Scholars of the Middle East are caught in an inescapable bind. Activist spaces are the only ones left open to us, but we are dismissed as biased when we use them. We are invited to share our insights only if they are deemed uncontroversial by the self-appointed gatekeepers of the conventional wisdom. If we condemn—or even just name—the genocide unfolding before our eyes, we are deplatformed and silenced. The logic is circular and impenetrable. It is also poison to the body politic. It rests on a nonsensical conception of objectivity that privileges power over truth. This catch-22 is no novel creation of the new administration. The institutions most complicit in its creation are the pillars of society ostensibly dedicated to the pursuit of justice—the press, the courts and the academy itself. They have constricted the boundaries of respectable discourse until they fit comfortably within the Beltway consensus. Rather than confronting reality, they have become apologists for genocide and architects of the post-truth world. They have learned nothing from Iraq. Nor do they want to. They don’t want to learn about the Middle East.
Alex Boodrookas is an assistant professor of history at Metropolitan State University of Denver. The opinions expressed here are his own and do not represent those of his employer.