If families looking to relocate to “top destinations” such as the US and Canada choose the right program for their children, they may be granted permanent residency as domestic students or even graduate from their chosen institution as residents or citizens, according to Tess Wilkinson, director of education services at Henley & Partners Education in the UK.
“We’re now seeing a real uptick in the types of families who are now becoming aware that there is an option for them,” she told The PIE News.
“For families looking at relocating, there can be real gains in the amount of fees they spend on education in places like Canada,” she explained. “They can they can save [up to] $150,000 on fees.”
The sheer number of clients asking for assistance in this area signals that education is swiftly becoming “one of the key drivers for people looking at second residences to citizenships”, she added.
Henley & Partners refers to itself as a “global leader in residence and citizenship by investment”. Its education arm, Wilkinson explained, helps to “advise transnational families who are looking for global education solutions”.
Working with families all over the world with children and adults of all ages – from K-12 to those seeking master’s degrees or MBAs – it “assists them to find the right match”, taking into account children’s individual needs and the types of residency or citizenship that may become available to its clients through educational opportunities.
“We can advise on all the top-tier destinations. So we have a family, for instance, who are considering the UK, the US and Australia and they’re putting in applications for all three countries,” Wilkinson shared.
We’re now seeing a real uptick in the types of families who are now becoming aware that there is an option for them Tess Wilkinson, Henley & Partners Education
With immigration policies in key markets such as the UK, the US, Canada and Australia shifting all the time, Wilkinson acknowledged that it “is not something that is simple”.
But she said that, with expertise across a number of key markets, Henley & Partners can provide families with education counsellors to help match children to institutions that suit them best, as well as help with applying to universities or summer programs.
The ‘big four’ international education destination countries are all seeing turbulence in their respective markets. Some of these restrictive policies are having an impact on students’ ability to study in the countries, hindering them from securing post-graduate residency in their chosen destination.
Australia and Canada are both subject restrictions on international students, while UK universities’ international departments have been blighted by a crackdown on overseas students’ ability to bring their families into the country with them.
Tess Wilkinson will be speaking at The PIE Live Europe at the PIEx Power Up Expanding horizons: accessing global education & opportunity via investment migrationon March 11 at 16:00. Tickets are available online here.
Hancy Maxis spent 17 years incarcerated in New York prisons. He knew that he needed to have a plan for when he got out.
“Once I am back in New York City, once I am back in the economy, how will I be marketable?” he said. “For me, math was that pathway.”
In 2015, Maxis completed a bachelor’s degree in math through the Bard Prison Initiative, an accredited college-in-prison program. He wrote his senior project about how to use game theory to advance health care equity, after observing the disjointed care his mom received when she was diagnosed with breast cancer. (She’s now recovered.)
When he was released in 2018, Maxis immediately applied for a master’s program at Columbia University’s Mailman School of Public Health. He graduated and now works as the assistant director of operations at Montefiore Medical Center in the Bronx. He helped guide the hospital’s response to Covid.
Maxis is one of many people I’ve spoken to in recent years while reporting on the role that learning math can play in the lives of those who are incarcerated. Math literacy often contributes to economic success: A 2021 study of more than 5,500 adults found that participants made $4,062 more per year for each correct answer on an eight-question math test.
While there don’t appear to be any studies specifically on the effect of math education for people in prison, a pile of research shows that prison education programs lower recidivism rates among participants and increase their chances of employment after they’re released.
Hancy Maxis spent 17 years incarcerated in New York prisons. He now works as the assistant director of operations at Montefiore Medical Center in the Bronx. Credit: Yunuen Bonaparte for The Hechinger Report
Plus, math — and education in general — can be empowering. A 2022 study found that women in prison education programs reported higher self-esteem, a greater sense of belonging and more hope for the future than women who had never been incarcerated and had not completed post-secondary education.
Yet many people who enter prison have limited math skills and have had poor relationships with math in school. More than half (52 percent) of those incarcerated in U.S. prisons lack basic numeracy skills, such as the ability to do multiplication with larger numbers, long division or interpret simple graphs, according to the most recent numbers from the National Center for Educational Statistics. The absence of these basic skills is even more pronounced among Black and Hispanic people in prison, who make up more than half of those incarcerated in federal prisons.
In my reporting, I discovered that there are few programs offering math instruction in prison, and those that do exist typically include few participants. Bard’s highly competitive program, for example, is supported primarily through private donations, and is limited to seven of New York’s 42 prisons. The recent expansion of federal Pell Grants to individuals who are incarcerated presents an opportunity for more people in prison to get these basic skills and better their chances for employment after release.
Alyssa Knight, executive director of the Freedom Education Project Puget Sound, which she co-founded while incarcerated, said that for years, educational opportunities in prison were created primarily by people who were incarcerated, who wrote to professors and educators to ask if they might send materials or teach inside the prison. But public recognition of the value of prison education, including math, is rising, and the Pell Grant expansion and state-level legislationhave made it easier for colleges to set up programs for people serving time. Now, Knight said, “Colleges are seeking prisons.”
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Jeffrey Abramowitz understands firsthand how math can help someone after prison. After completing a five-year stint in a federal prison, his first post-prison job was teaching math to adults who were preparing to take the GED exam.
Fast forward nearly a decade, and Abramowitz is now the CEO of The Petey Greene Program, an organization that provides one-on-one tutoring, educational supports and programs in reading, writing and now math, to help people in prison and who have left prison receive the necessary education requirements for a high school diploma, college acceptance or career credentials.
The average Petey Greene student’s math skills are at a fourth- or fifth-grade level, according to Abramowitz, which is in line with the average for “justice-impacted” learners; the students tend to struggle with basic math such as addition and multiplication.
“You can’t be successful within most industries without being able to read, write and do basic math,” Abramowitz said. “We’re starting to see more blended programs that help people find a career pathway when they come home — and the center of all this is math and reading.”
Abramowitz and his team noticed this lack of math skills particularly among students in vocational training programs, such as carpentry, heating and cooling and commercial driving. To qualify to work in these fields, these students often need to pass a licensing test, requiring math and reading knowledge.
The nonprofit offers “integrated education training” to help students learn the relevant math for their professions. For instance, a carpentry teacher will teach students how to use a saw in or near a classroom where a math teacher explains fractions and how they relate to the measurements needed to cut a piece of wood.
“They may be able to do the task fine, but they can’t pass the test because they don’t know the math,” Abramowitz said.
Math helped Paul Morton after he left prison, he told me. When he began his 10.5 years in prison, he only could do GED-level math. After coming across an introductory physics book in the third year of his time in prison, he realized he didn’t have the math skills needed for the science described in it.
He asked his family to send him math textbooks and, over the seven years until his release, taught himself algebra and calculus.
The recent expansion of federal Pell Grants to individuals who are incarcerated presents an opportunity for more people in prison to get these basic skills and better their chances for employment after release. Credit: Helen H. Richardson/The Denver Post via Getty Images
“I relentlessly spent six hours on one problem one day,” he said. “I was determined to do it, to get it right.”
I met Morton through the organization the Prison Mathematics Project, which helped him develop his math knowledge inside prison by connecting him with an outside mathematician. After his release from a New York prison in 2023, he moved to Rochester, New York, and is hoping to take the actuarial exam, which requires a lot of math. He continues to study differential equations on his own.
The Prison Mathematics Project delivers math materials and programs to people in prison, and connects them with mathematicians as mentors. (It also brings math professors, educators and enthusiasts to meet program participants through “Pi Day” events; I attended one such event in 2023 when I produced a podcast episode about the program, and the organization paid for my travel and accommodations.)
The organization was started in 2015 by Christopher Havens, who was then incarcerated at Washington State Penitentiary in Walla Walla. Havens’ interest in math puzzles, and then in algebra, calculus and other areas of mathematics, was ignited early in his 25-year- term when a prison volunteer slid some sudoku puzzles under his door.
“I had noticed all these changes happening inside of me,” Havens told me. “My whole life, I was searching for that beauty through drugs and social acceptance … When I found real beauty [in math], it got me to practice introspection.”
As he fell in love with math, he started corresponding with mathematicians to help him solve problems, and talking to other men at the prison to get them interested too. He created a network of math resources for people in prisons, which became the Prison Mathematics Project.
The group’s website says it helps people in prison use math to help with “rebuilding their lives both during and after their incarceration.”
But Ben Jeffers, its executive director, has noticed that the message doesn’t connect with everyone in prison. Among the 299 Prison Mathematics Project participants on whom the program has data, the majority — 56 percent — are white, he told me, while 25 percent are Black, 10 percent are Hispanic, 2 percent are Asian and 6 percent are another race or identity. Ninety-three percent of project participants are male.
Yet just 30 percent of the U.S. prison population is white, while 35 percent of those incarcerated are Black, 31 percent are Hispanic and 4 percent are of other races, according to the United State Sentencing Commission. (The racial makeup of the program’s 18 female participants at women’s facilities is much more in line with that of the prison population at large.)
“[It’s] the same issues that you have like in any classroom in higher education,” said Jeffers, who is finishing his master’s in math in Italy. “At the university level and beyond, every single class is majority white male.”
He noted that anxiety about math tends to be more acute among women and people of any gender who are Black, Hispanic, or from other underrepresented groups, and may keep them from signing up for the program.
Sherry Smith understands that kind of anxiety. She didn’t even want to step foot into a math class. When she arrived at Southern Maine Women’s Reentry Center in December 2021, she was 51, had left high school when she was 16, and had only attended two weeks of a ninth grade math class.
“I was embarrassed that I had dropped out,” she said. “I hated to disclose that to people.”
Smith decided to enroll in the prison’s GED program because she could do the classes one-on-one with a friendly and patient teacher. “It was my time,” she said. “Nobody else was listening, I could ask any question I needed.”
In just five months, Smith completed her GED math class. She said she cried on her last day. Since 2022, she’s been pursuing an associate’s degree in human services — from prison — through a remote program with Washington County Community College.
In Washington, Prison Mathematics Project founder Havens is finishing his sentence and continuing to study math. (Havens has been granted a clemency hearing and may be released as early as this year.) Since 2020, he has published four academic papers: three in math and one in sociology. He works remotely from prison as a staff research associate in cryptography at the University of California, Los Angeles, and wrote a math textbook about continued fractions.
Havens is still involved in the Prison Mathematics Project, but handed leadership of the program over to Jeffers in October 2023. Now run from outside the prison, it is easier for the program to bring resources and mentorship to incarcerated students.
“For 25 years of my life, I can learn something that I wouldn’t have the opportunity to learn in any other circumstances,” Havens said. “So I decided that I would, for the rest of my life, study mathematics.”
Contact editor Caroline Preston at 212-870-8965 or [email protected].
The Hechinger Report provides in-depth, fact-based, unbiased reporting on education that is free to all readers. But that doesn’t mean it’s free to produce. Our work keeps educators and the public informed about pressing issues at schools and on campuses throughout the country. We tell the whole story, even when the details are inconvenient. Help us keep doing that.
For example, at the age of 22, compared with the general population, care leavers and those who have ever been in care are four times less likely to enter higher education – 14 per cent of care-experienced people versus 56 per cent of the general population. Of those care leavers who do make it into higher education, 18 per cent drop out, more than double the withdrawal rate of their peers in the general population.
And it’s not just care leavers who experience unequal outcomes. The research looked more widely at anyone with experience of children’s social care – a group that is around 20 times larger than the care leaver population – and found stark inequalities in their access to and experience of higher education compared not only to the general population, but also compared to those eligible for free school meals. For example, “children in need” are two to three times less likely to attend higher education than the general population.
These results suggest that the experience of children’s social care has a lasting impact on educational prospects, and that the needs of affected young people are not being met by the current support system. Although the findings are perhaps not surprising, they are still shocking. Our report aims to act as a call to action for universities, policymakers and those seeking to close equality gaps in higher education.
Routes to an unlevel playing field
Not only is there an uphill struggle to the higher education “playing field” for those who have been in care, once there, the playing field itself is far from level. The data shows that getting those with experience of children’s social care into university is only the first challenge to address, and the high dropout rate demonstrates that targeted work is required to improve retention and support systems.
Care leavers – and others with experience of children’s social care – often take alternative routes to university. Over one-third (36 per cent) of care leavers take a vocational pathway, compared to just 13 per cent of the general population, and they are more likely to start university later in life rather than at the traditional age of 18. This suggests that the traditional academic pipeline does not serve them effectively, and that policymakers should aim to support these alternative pathways and set strategies for recruiting mature learners.
Care leavers and entry rates
There are some differences between those with experience of children’s social care overall and care leavers specifically. Although care leavers have poorer outcomes on most measures, care leavers have a relatively high entry rate at age 18/19, compared to other groups who have experienced children’s social care.
This could be due to a higher level of support being made available for this group in the transition from post-16 settings to higher education, reinforcing the importance of targeted interventions.
Accommodation outside of term time
Accommodation is another crucial area where care-experienced people are at a disadvantage, often without a stable home to go to during the term breaks. We need closer collaboration between local authorities and higher education providers to ensure they are collectively meeting their duty of support to care-experienced learners, and especially care leavers where the state has a corporate-parent responsibility.
This is one clear area where more joined-up working is needed to help ensure that care-experienced students have somewhere suitable to stay when universities close their doors outside of term time.
The people within the statistics
It is also important to note that many with experience of children’s social care enter higher education and thrive. As with all statistical reports, focusing on averages, however derived, risks missing the many important exceptions. That is, some individuals succeed despite the relatively long odds of doing so, and we should not interpret statistical results in a causal or absolute way.
We hope, in particular, that Virtual School Heads – a regional role that acts as a headteacher for all children with a social worker within a particular local authority – will find the research helpful when working on the strategic goal of improving educational inclusion and participation for care-experienced children and young people.
A call for change
The research underscores the fact that universities – including more selective or prestigious institutions – should rethink their approach to recruiting and supporting those with experience of children’s social care.
We outline some of the ways to support these groups – by recruiting mature learners, those from vocational pathways, and by strengthening retention strategies. One possible idea, previously suggested by the Social Market Foundation, is that providers could be offered an additional £1,000 for each care leaver they recruit as a “student premium”, beyond existing accommodation support. At TASO, we want to see higher education providers evaluating their interventions to attract and support those with experience of children’s social care, so we can start to build a picture of what works to benefit these students.
Our report makes it clear: universities, policymakers and local authorities must work together to ensure that those with experience of children’s social care are not left behind. The challenges they face in accessing and completing higher education are not inevitable but significant and targeted support is required to change the status quo. If higher education is a vehicle for social mobility, the continued focus on underrepresented groups – including those with experience of children’s social care – is vital.
Imagine a classroom in which young students are excitedly discussing their future aspirations and a career in medicine feels like a tangible goal rather than a distant dream. Now, imagine that most of the students come from historically marginalized communities — Black, Hispanic and Indigenous populations — that disproportionately face higher rates of chronic illness, shorter life expectancies and poorer health outcomes.
For many students from underrepresented backgrounds, a medical career feels out of reach. The path to becoming a doctor is daunting, full of obstacles like financial hardship, lack of mentorship and systemic inequities in education. Many students are sidelined long before they consider medical school, while those who persist face an uphill battle competing against peers with far more resources and support.
To mitigate these disparities, we must look beyond our hospitals and medical schools and into the places where young minds are shaped: our K-12 classrooms. Early exposure to health care careers can ignite curiosity and show students that they belong in places where they have historically been excluded.
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Organizations like the Florida State University College of Medicine, with its “Science Students Together Reaching Instructional Diversity and Excellence” (SSTRIDE) program, are leading the way in breaking down barriers to medical careers for underrepresented students. SSTRIDE introduces middle and high school students to real-world medical environments, giving them firsthand exposure to health care settings that might otherwise feel distant or inaccessible. Then, the program threads together long-term mentorship, academic enrichment and extracurricular opportunities to build the confidence and skills students need to reach medical school.
The 15 White Coats program in Louisiana takes a complementary but equally meaningful approach: transforming classroom environments by introducing culturally relevant imagery and literature that reflect the diversity of the medical profession. For many students, seeing doctors who look like them — featured in posters or books — can challenge internalized doubts and dismantle societal messages that suggest they don’t belong in medicine. Through fundraising efforts and scholarships, other initiatives from 15 White Coats tackle the financial barriers that disproportionately hinder “minority physician aspirants” from pursuing medical careers.
The impact of these programs can be profound. Research shows that students exposed to careers in science or medicine at an early age are far more likely to pursue these fields later in life. And medical students who belong to underrepresented groups are the most likely to return to underserved communities to practice. Their presence can improve communication, foster patient trust and drive innovation in addressing health challenges unique to those communities.
These programs can even have a ripple effect on families and entire communities. When young people pursue careers in medicine, they become role models for siblings, friends and neighbors. This creates a culture of aspiration in which success feels both possible and accessible, shifting societal perceptions and inspiring future generations to aim higher.
But programs like 15 White Coats and SSTRIDE cannot thrive without sustained investment. We need personal and financial commitments to dismantle the systemic barriers that prevent students from underrepresented groups from entering medicine.
Policymakers and educators must step up. Federal and state educational funding should prioritize grants for schools that partner with hospitals, medical schools and health care organizations. These partnerships should offer hands-on experiences like shadowing programs, medical summer camps and health care-focused career fairs. Medical professionals also have a role to play — they can volunteer as mentors or guest speakers, offering valuable guidance and demystifying the path to a medical career.
As a medical student, I know how transformative these experiences can be. They can inspire students to envision themselves in roles they might never have imagined and gain the confidence to pursue dreams that once seemed out of reach.
Let’s be clear, representation in medicine is not about optics. It’s about improving health outcomes and driving meaningful change. Building a stronger, more diverse pipeline to the medical profession is not just an educational priority. It’s a public health imperative.
An investment in young minds today is an investment in a health care system that represents, understands and serves everyone. Equity in health care starts long before a patient walks into a doctor’s office. It begins in the classroom.
Surya Pulukuri is a member of the class of 2027 at Harvard Medical School.
This story about health equity 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.
The Hechinger Report provides in-depth, fact-based, unbiased reporting on education that is free to all readers. But that doesn’t mean it’s free to produce. Our work keeps educators and the public informed about pressing issues at schools and on campuses throughout the country. We tell the whole story, even when the details are inconvenient. Help us keep doing that.
I often ignore my well-being—mind, body and spirit—while advancing my academic career. As a woman of color academic, balancing work and life feels very hard. My personal and professional lives are tangled, pulling at me in tiring ways. Relaxing seems wrong, and resting feels like a luxury.
I get so caught up in meetings and deadlines that on a typical day I often skip lunch. I forget to drink water and don’t even step outside for fresh air. My self-care plan has been “out of sight, out of mind.”
Now, in my 40s, I see the toll this has taken. I struggle with muscle spasms, neck pain, mental health issues and deep exhaustion. The hardest part? My six-year-old daughter says, “Mom works a lot.”
Enter Slow Living: A Revolutionary Recalibration
The slow living movement, rooted in the slow food movement, promotes a lifestyle centered on mindfulness, sustainability and quality over quantity. It encourages us to slow down and make intentional choices in a world that often values speed and productivity. This philosophy emphasizes the importance of relationships, well-being and balance.
For women of color in academia, slow living practices provide a means to counteract the intense pressures of teaching, administration, funding and publication. These pressures are heightened by systemic challenges such as microaggressions, tokenism, code-switching and the obligation to mentor students from similar backgrounds. This leads to cultural taxation and the demands of invisible labor, resulting in increased stress and burnout. The slow living approach promotes self-care and helps us reconnect with what truly matters, enhancing resilience and mental well-being.
The Invisible Burdens Women of Color Carry
Women of color in academia often face unique challenges that remain invisible to many of their peers. For example, the overwhelming burden of service work, particularly mentoring students of color, frequently contributes to feelings of isolation and burnout. While mentorship is vital and rewarding, it takes a significant toll, contributing to a sense of alienation, invisible labor and racial battle fatigue. The emotional and intellectual labor involved often detracts from time that could otherwise be spent on research, teaching or personal pursuits. Addressing these issues requires a deeper understanding of systemic obstacles and intentional efforts to foster equitable academic environments.
Furthermore, women of color academics often encounter challenges related to tokenism within predominantly white academic settings. Their roles can be perceived as symbolic, which leads to the expectation that they represent entire racial or ethnic communities. Faculty of color are frequently called upon to address student concerns regarding racism or to spearhead diversity, equity and inclusion initiatives, a burden not equally shared by their white colleagues.
Moreover, microaggressions—subtle yet harmful discriminatory behaviors—can create an environment in which faculty of color feel compelled to continually validate their competence. These experiences highlight the need for systemic change to cultivate a more inclusive atmosphere where women of color faculty can thrive and contribute their invaluable perspectives.
The Slow Living Solution
The principles of slow living offer women of color academics a robust way to reclaim their time and energy, enabling them to focus on their well-being, passions and purpose. Embracing slow living practices may aid us in navigating the often overwhelming demands of academic life with greater intention and balance, which may amplify self-agency.
Mindfulness practices such as morning meditation or walking in nature can provide essential moments of peace. Setting boundaries, saying “no” to additional commitments and taking mental health days are other strategies that allow academics to preserve their energy. Intentional time management helps reduce stress and ensures alignment with personal values, creating a more fulfilling academic experience. Institutional support for mindful practices can be crucial in promoting the well-being and retention of women of color faculty by creating environments that prioritize self-care, work-life balance and mental health.
Slow living enhances career satisfaction by aligning daily tasks with long-term goals. Reflecting on work can help identify opportunities that bring purpose and joy, like prioritizing collaborative projects that match personal values. A model that reflects this intentional approach is transformational leadership in academia. This model focuses on leaders encouraging collaboration, promoting shared goals and emphasizing personal growth and well-being. Women of color faculty may use this model to engage in work that is aligned with their values and supported by institutional leadership, promoting meaningful collaboration and decreasing the likelihood of feeling disconnected or burned out.
Incorporating slow living into academia can inspire a ripple effect across departments and institutions. Women of color faculty prioritizing well-being and balance set a powerful example for colleagues and students. These shifts can foster a culture that values mental health and personal fulfillment as much as professional achievement. Over time, tailored slow-living principles could encourage academic institutions to reimagine success metrics, emphasizing sustainability, collaboration and community impact.
From Individual Change to Institutional Transformation
Slow living can’t flourish in a vacuum. For women of color faculty to thrive, institutions must provide meaningful support. Structural changes can transform individual efforts into a sustainable culture shift—and, honestly, wouldn’t academia be better off for it?
Institutions can enhance the well-being and retention of women of color faculty through several structural changes. Implementing flexible work policies, such as remote teaching and flexible hours, helps faculty manage their professional and personal lives. A holistic approach to tenure and promotion that values work-life balance, teaching quality, mentorship and community impact fosters inclusivity. Mentorship programs and employee affinity groups provide essential support and collaboration. Additionally, dedicated mental health resources help mitigate burnout. Programs like the Advancing Faculty Diversity initiative at the University of California celebrate (and fund) faculty DEI contributions. Finally, incentivizing collaborative work can shift success metrics to prioritize impactful contributions, benefiting faculty and institutions.
A Paradigm Shift Worth Embracing
After years of pushing myself to the limit, I realized it was time for a change. While moving to a peaceful countryside cottage wasn’t possible, I discovered that small daily habits could transform my busy life. I started by walking: Each morning, I would take a 10-minute walk through my neighborhood, paying attention to the rhythm of my steps and allowing myself to immerse in the present moment fully. I also began typing slower, breathing mindfully and speaking intentionally. These simple changes introduced mindfulness, making me feel less frantic about productivity and helping me prioritize quality family time.
Embracing slow living in my professional life has been a game-changer. It’s helped me focus on well-being and redefine success as living better rather than just doing more. As academics, we should celebrate lifelong learning and incorporate slow living into our lives. After all, if we’re too busy to care for ourselves, what are we truly working for?
So here’s my challenge to you, dear reader: Take a deep breath. Walk a little slower. Break away from the chime of an email sitting in your inbox. Speak with intention. Let’s rewrite the script that tells us we must hustle to the point of harm. Our careers, families and, most importantly, we are worth it.
Kenyatta Y. Dawson is a program director and faculty member at Texas Woman’s University. She specializes in diversity, equity, inclusion, student success and professional development in higher education. Her research focuses on mentoring adult learners, career satisfaction and equity-driven leadership. Grateful to Texas Woman’s University’s Women’s Thought Leadership Program for advancing underrepresented voices, Dawson embraces the Write to Change the World mission for inclusivity and social impact.
