Unknown's avatar

Posts by nflanagan

Nancy Flanagan is an education writer and consultant focusing on teacher leadership. She spent 30 years in a K-12 music classroom in Hartland, Mich, and was named Michigan Teacher of the Year in 1993. She is National Board-certified, and a member of the Teacher Leaders Network. She divides her time between wondering how things got so messed up and dreaming up ways to re-energize America's best idea--a free, high-quality education for every child.

Dispatch from New Mexico

We are in Carlsbad, New Mexico at 5:30 on a Saturday night, hoping to grab a quick dinner at a Chili’s that seems to be THE happening place for families. There are kids running around outdoors—it’s a balmy 70 degrees—while their parents wait for a table. We grab the only two seats at the bar.

It’s clear that this is also the place where the working men of Carlsbad relax. All of the stools and tables in the bar area are filled with big, tattooed dudes. If we were in Michigan, they’d be in Carhartt, but here, it’s baseball caps and faded black T-shirts. The friendly, attractive bartender—who’s also wearing a black T-shirt with “Just Dump Him” surrounded by a heart–is taking drink orders in English and Spanish. She seems to know everyone in the place.

The guy sitting next to me is on his phone—speaking Spanish—in intense conversation, for maybe 10 minutes, punctuated by laughter.  A teenager carrying a bucket of ice appears to refill the bar supply and the guy hails him. Cruz! the kid says—and they hug over the bar and chatter some more. It feels like we’re guests in this place, with the regulars just carrying on around us.

Then the guy next to me says—Do you mind if I ask something? Sure, I say (wiping my mouth—Chili’s does have great ribs). How long have you been married? he asks. Forty-seven years, we tell him. I knew it, he says. I’m jealous. I’ve been watching you interact. You have what I wanted, but I am divorced.

We chat for about 15 minutes, occasionally looping in another guy, sitting next to my husband, who has an artificial leg. They’re mine workers. We tell them we’re going to Carlsbad Caverns, a bucket list thing, and they offer (good) advice. We hear about their kids and see adorable photos. I show them photos of the dog we adopted, Atticus, a stray who was reclaimed and trained by inmates in a Michigan prison.

My husband asks for the check and the bartender says it’s already been paid—by Cruz. I turn to protest and he says he does this all the time (the bartender nods, yup, he does). I’m not rich, he says—but I have plenty. More than enough. My pastor showed me how giving comes back to you. I thank you for showing me that love can last for 47 years.

The next morning, we go to Carlsbad Caverns and they’re spectacular indeed. That evening, in another New Mexico hotel, we watch a fabulous half-time show, full of color and love. It’s also in Spanish.

And the next day, we read all the wonderful (and alas, despicable) comments on Bad Bunny’s loving tribute to Puerto Rico, its history of oppression, his celebration of a unique culture, the importance of joy and love.

Fact: There are over 50 million Spanish speakers in the United States, and half a billion world-wide. We’re one of the few countries where speaking a second language is not considered essential, and where many states and school districts do not emphasize the value of learning to address the world through more than one language lens.

My own pastor, Reverend Lynne Fry, wrote this, which summarizes the point beautifully:

I’m hearing many people saying, “I just wish there were translated subtitles or some English lyrics”….

This is the point.

Where else in the everyday white American experience are we asked to be in a situation where we don’t know the cultural code, don’t speak the language, we feel like we are missing something?

This is frequently what it feels like to be an immigrant, a foreigner, an outsider, a minority. This is what many of our grandparents or great grandparents dealt with. This is what millions of Americans still experience every day.

Those who are white, English-only speakers were invited to experience it for 15 minutes. For many, the discomfort was intolerable. Many didn’t even try.

When invited to walk a mile in someone else’s shoes, even if the fit is uncomfortable, will we?

What can—should—educators do to teach our children the beauty of other cultures, other languages, other faces? How can we reach over and share with the stranger?

Carlsbad Caverns, the Big Room. My photo.

The Fault Line in American politics?

I’ve spent a lot of time considering this graphic.

IS education the fault line in American politics?

First shock: There are 33 states with more-educated people than (purple) Michigan, where there are world-class colleges and universities. What makes us an under-achiever?

2nd: Consider Trump’s mouth-blabber remark: “I love the poorly educated.” As well he should. They’re his base.

Digging deeper– what makes someone with a college degree more likely to vote Democratic? Does a college education make someone more broad-minded, more aware of the social and political factors influencing their well-being? Or is this all just about economics– being able to afford a college degree?

And personally–something I have been wrestling with since 2016–is there something I could have done, as a teacher, to model that broad-mindedness to my students?

ICE: Not your friendly neighborhood cops

I was talking with an acquaintance, and made a comment about ICE being reported in Leelanau County. Don’t you want to see illegal immigrants gone? she asked. Besides, they’re only picking up the ones with a criminal record.

I was dumbfounded. I knew she was likely a Republican; our points of contact have nothing to do with politics. But still– it came as a shock to know that she felt ICE was doing good, justifiable work– keeping her safe, here in nearly all-white Leelanau County.

This didn’t feel political. It felt personal. How could anyone who’s paying attention to the news support an out-of-control federal agency, ripping families apart and harming American citizens, with our tax dollars? Could you be a good person while accepting government-sponsored violence against innocent people?

There were lots of questions I could have asked, researched and validated arguments to be made, beginning with data about the non-criminals and citizens who have been detained. But–shamefully, I admit–I said nothing, just changed the subject to the reason we were meeting.

Thinking it over, I resolved not to just ‘let it go’ anymore. It’s true that many of these folks have made up their mind and are impervious to facts. And, at this moment, nobody is out in the streets when the wind chill is 25 below.

But–thinking people, actual good citizens, care about the people who live in and serve their communities. We are not seeing public safety being played out. We are seeing the base of a presidential posse–men with vicious grudges and biases empowered to destroy public services and schools. We all need to speak up.

Even when it’s socially awkward or unlikely to change minds.

Why? Well– read the article below. It’s a gift article, so you can read the whole thing.

Put Teachers in Charge of Their Own PD?

It feels weird to be opining about professional development when teachers in Minnesota are dealing with the effects of mayhem in the street, poisoning the normal ebb and flow of public schooling.

Is it exam week in the Minneapolis Public Schools, I find myself wondering—how will they handle that on-line, with a significant chunk of kids missing? Friends who teach in Minnesota share heartbreaking stories or ask me to donate $10 toward a project their students put together: getting food to families too frightened to shop. Incredible stressors for educators and also retired educators—thank you for all you are doing to keep schooling as safe as possible.

Coincidentally, it was a group of dynamic teachers in the Twin Cities area who first showed me what it really could look like to be in charge of their own professional learning. More on that later.

First, let me say the obvious. Teachers actually are, and always will be, in charge of whatever they decide they need to improve their teaching. For some, it will be a career-long quest to learn and try new things, building a practice with what works best. Others might be less enthused about the latest mandated program. You can lead a teacher to PD, but you can’t make them believe it’s useful.

The question is not what teachers need and want, to grow. It’s what administrators think they need, in the time set aside for professional development.

When principals and central office leaders are making the decisions (and hiring outside consultants)? EdWeek Research Center found that almost half of the respondents said the PD they are required to take is irrelevant. By contrast, 41% of the more than 650 school leaders surveyed at the same time said the PD they provided was “very relevant.”

This is an evergreen issue, of course. My district dabbled in a ‘choose your own PD’ model for a few years, giving teachers the choice to work in their own rooms or attend planned presentations. The lure of hours of uninterrupted time to plan lessons, run copies, review new materials, catch up on grading or chat with a partner teacher was irresistible.

Going home without a tote bag full of work? Priceless. But when only a handful of people showed up for the paid presenter? Embarrassing for the administrator who did the hiring. I say this having been one of those presenters once, setting up for 35 attendees and then having only four show up for a half-day workshop on National Board Certification.

In fact, it was a group of National Board Certified Teachers from a public high school in Minneapolis who proved to me that teacher-led professional development could be incredibly exciting and precisely targeted to the work of teaching specific students.

The name of the HS is not important—but it was a school with a high percentage of immigrant students, so there were ESL issues and poverty issues and old-building facility issues. Sometimes the assigned curricula just did not work for the students they had.

A progressive principal bought into the idea of genuine teacher leadership and re-arranged the classic HS schedule so that he was teaching classes daily, opening up time for teachers to take on traditional administrative tasks. Like professional development.

Teachers surveyed their colleagues—What do you need to know to teach your students well? What issues do you want to talk about?—and set up weekly brown-bag lunch chats and after-school gatherings at a local restaurant, with snacks paid by the school budget. There was intensive mentoring for new teachers and regular time set aside for teachers to tweak curriculum, as they were teaching it. Peer observations and conversations were built into daily practice.

A lot of what they were doing was around the use of time, shaving it off here and adding it there—only an experienced teacher can understand the difference adding 20 minutes to lunch makes, where some of the best professional development happens spontaneously.

The most impressive thing was not that teachers were ‘in charge of their own PD’—but that teachers were collaborating to build professional learning and conversations that made sense to them, on the fly.

The first question from the audience (of teachers): Did everyone in your building buy into this new, ongoing PD model? Answer: No. A couple left the building for what they saw as greener pastures. But several skeptics stayed and eventually became converts. And now, they said, when we hire, we let new teachers know they will be surrounded by support in that first year. It’s who we are—a team.

I’ve been thinking about that school, a lot, as we watch Trump’s quasi-militia wreak havoc on blue cities. Is there such a thing as professional preparation for having your teachers and students harassed? Are there materials that might help explain the chaos to kids? Will there someday be ed-conference sessions on the intersection of civic education and government coercion?

We didn’t start this fire. But teachers—beaten down and dissed by our own government—will have a role to play in rebuilding the idea of representative democracy. Right now, that’s our best hope.

Where Do Kids Get Their Information?

Their music and media tell them individualism will pull them out of squalor. The people behind those messages shove the economic ladders from underneath them.   (Jose Vilson)

One of the most stunning bits of clarifying data I’ve seen in the past few weeks is this chart from Media Matters, with data from February 2025:

It’s a graphic of most listened-to online news and commentary shows, color-coded and sized to represent the magnitude and political leanings of the American audience. It’s year-old data, remember—but it goes some way toward answering the question I’ve spent the past year obsessing over: Who ARE these people and how could they have re-elected the corrupt man who led the insurrection against their pretty-good government?

I’m old enough to remember 2008, when Barack Obama’s online media savvy and fund-raising prowess was attracting voters and the envy of the other party, stuck in Walter-Cronkite land. Kids who were primary consumers of social media then, are in their 30s now, and apparently have shifted to eating up Joe Rogan, Ben Shapiro and Nick Fuentes.

But what are kids listening to in 2026?  I think the JLV, in two sentences, above, sums up what I’m thinking: They’re young. They’re being bamboozled by glitzy media and music, convinced that their own swagger will save them. And then it doesn’t. In fact, they’re a generation that almost certainly will experience less prosperity and fewer prospects than their parents’ generation.

I volunteer in an after-school program for middle-schoolers, usually on afternoons dedicated to homework (or missing assignments). It’s no secret to any teacher that a lot of incomplete and missing work happens because the students don’t know how to do it. They will finally tell you—I don’t get this—after making excuses and going to their locker or the bathroom three times. This happens a lot with math, but also with conventional Q & A, end-of-chapter reviews and short writing assignments.

Our kids have their own Chromebooks and most of the teachers provide several vetted information sources beyond the textbook, which is great. But only if students go there, and wade around. Unfortunately, chatbots have now given them a get-out-of-jail quick option.

These students are—I emphasize—not dumb (or any similar but less insulting word). After homework is completed, we often play board games or cards. They understand and can negotiate things that the games require—similes and other wordplay, strategy and logic, memory. Some are also readers (passing around personally owned books that I never ask to see). There are conversations full of humor and current music and YouTube video references.

But at age twelve or so—where are they getting their information about the world at large? On the day after the 2024 election, our coordinator stopped by to remind volunteers NOT to speak about the election. Not that any of the kids mentioned it. It was as if it hadn’t happened.

A couple of days ago, there was a local protest in town about the Venezuelan invasion, and Indivisible posted photos on their Facebook page. This drew a flood of bot comments and an irritated response from protest organizers. Bots have taken over the normal give-and-take on many social media advocacy platforms. We are no longer getting honest news from legacy sites, and right-wing frat-boy videographers get millions of eyeballs on their dishonest grift.

If we can’t count on legacy media, who’s going to sort through those red and blue bubbles of independent media? It’s going to take more than hope and good will to teach kids to be critical consumers of media and music, to discern the difference between glittering generalities and sometimes unpleasant truth.

Somebody needs to clue them in to the fact that not all elected and appointed leaders can be trusted, and actors and musicians run the gamut from good guys to sleaze . There are malignant forces in the world,  people who are capable of extreme evil, which, as Hannah Arendt pointed out, is typically characterized by mediocrity. 

Of course, teachers are proscribed from sharing their opinions on the best sources of accurate and unbiased information, lest they be labeled DEI or woke. Makes you wonder how the public opinion on DEI and woke, two ideas that were once debatable if not accepted, solidified into broadly understood negative concepts. Where did that “information” come from?

Because I hang out with middle schoolers on the regular, I don’t think it’s too late to take a stand for discretion around the truthfulness of media sources. But simply letting the red bubbles win is a mistake.

TIASL Good Books of 2025

I’ve read a lot of books this year—114, according to my Goodreads account (more on that in a minute). Interestingly, not many of them were five-star reads. Kind of like the discourse around 2025 in general: a whole lot going on, little of it particularly enlightening or inspiring.

I tried to focus on fictional books, because the large bulk of what I read, day to day, is newsletters and newspapers, op-eds and social media posts, as we collectively watch the Great American Dismantling. Fiction serves as escape, and even medicine for the disheartened soul. Quality fiction, that is—books that have something to say while entertaining the reader.

I’m sharing eleven good books I read in 2025—two non-fiction, nine fiction, plus two series that I’ve come to love.

But first, a question: Is anyone using Storygraph to record your reading? I’d like to disengage from Goodreads—it’s a Jeff Bezos thing, plus there are now some irritations around their features. I got a Storygraph account but found it confusing and cluttered.

One of my dearest friends, with whom I exchange book titles regularly, finds all on-line book-reading apps confusing and unnecessary, and still records her reads and to-reads in a spiral notebook. At the end of the year, she counts. Or doesn’t. Because how many books doesn’t matter—it’s about how much you enjoyed the books, where they lead you.

I wish I could go full-blown purist, too. But I like tracking not only how many, but whether I’ve already read something (series titles will fool you, when they all sound the same). Any advice on book apps?

So here are my best 2025 reads—some new books, some merely recent. If you want to read my reviews (they’re short), click on the bolded title.

Non-fiction

I only read two memorably great non-fiction books this year, and both were memoirs written by women I deeply admire. I’d put Atwood on my list of ten favorite authors, and while her memoir is endlessly detailed, it’s also full of snark and deliciously tart observations. I wrote a whole blog (linked below) on Ravitch’s book, a behind-the-scenes look at the life of a personal education hero.

Book of Lives (Margaret Atwood)

An Education: How I Changed My Mind about Schools and Almost Everything Else (Diane Ravitch)

Fiction

It wasn’t a great year for fiction reading. Maybe it was the heavy lifting fiction had to do to drop me into another world without being lightweight or predictable. I have collected a couple dozen promising books on my e-reader to take on a winter vacation, because it’s clear we’re in for another year where reality is intolerable. In the meantime, here are nine—very different–books I could recommend.

The Heart of Winter (Jonathan Evison)

The Frozen River (Ariel Lawhon)

The Wilderness (Angela Flournoy)

Heartwood (Amity Gaige)

So Far Gone (Jess Walter)

The Jackal’s Mistress (Chris Bohjalian)

James (Everett Percival)

The Ministry of Time (Kaliane Bradley)

The Safekeep (Yael van der Wouden)

I’d also like to mention two book series that have reached must-read levels for me, like the books of Louise Penney, Donna Leon, John Sandford or others whose latest installments are anticipated returns to familiar worlds and characters.

Thursday Murder Club (Richard Osman)

I found the first book in the 5-book series cute and cozy, but unremarkable. But with each outing, I added stars, and the fourth book was outstanding. The most recent—The Impossible Fortune—was just as good.

At Midnight Comes the Cry (Julia Spencer-Fleming)

I was pleased to see that Spencer-Fleming’s 10th outing in her small-town cop-meets-Episcopal priest series made the NYT list of best mysteries of 2025. It may be Spencer-Fleming’s last book, so if you want to set off on a series, give it a try.

And now—talk among yourselves. What did you read and love? Disagree with my list?

Most  Depressing Blogs of 2025

“A generation raised under the [moral tone set by FDR] went on to build the modern middle class, defeat fascism, and help construct a postwar world that valued democracy, human rights, and shared prosperity.

Contrast that with the bigoted, hateful, revenge-filled claptrap children have heard for the past decade from the emotionally stunted psychopath currently occupying the White House.”                                                                                                          Thom Hartmann

My goal in blogging—something I’ve been doing for almost 25 years—has always been to write about what it’s like to be a teacher in the United States. I wanted to focus on teacher leadership, to write about the ‘inconsistencies and inspirations, the incomprehensible, immoral and imaginative, in American education.’

Because—back in 2001, when I got my first paid gig writing on the internet (there were unpaid local newspaper columns before that), there were many inspiring things to write about, from my own experience as a classroom teacher. There were also important questions about instruction, thorny policy issues and curricular problems to solve, but it really felt as if public school educators were on the same page—valuing democracy, human rights, shared prosperity, as Thom Hartmann says.

You could see a turning point coming. Topics from my December 28, 2016 “best blogs” review when I was writing for Education Week: Charters aren’t the answer. Women are disrespected even in a field where they’re a huge majority. We still don’t know what “teacher leadership” looks like—or might accomplish. Standards may shape practice, but they don’t automatically raise achievement. Competition and marketing aren’t the answer, either. And the future of public education is in serious jeopardy.

Going through the blogs I wrote this year was an exercise in dismay. Although I had many rewarding experiences volunteering in schools, in 2025, pulling the camera back to see where we’re going in pubic education is – no other word—monumentally depressing.

Here are 10 blogs from 2025 that I think represent our current trajectory, such as it is. Wish I could offer readers better news:

Teachers are Patriots! Who Knew?

You might say that teachers’ observations and informal experiments—Teach it this way? Or that?—are the most valuable action research data to build a successful practice. But don’t say it too loud, because research is tied tightly to the source of the money that funds it—and the commercial products and politics that drive educational change.

Progressive” Schools

Speaking as a person who has spent decades working in public schools and with public school teachers across the country, schools are generally among the most conventional and cautious institutions on the planet, subject to pressures and opinions from a wide range of (often clueless) critics. And likely headed by someone who adamantly does not want to get phone calls from honked-off parents.

Moral Clarity in the Classroom

If we were to sit down together over a cup of coffee, I could tell you dozens of stories from my teaching career that illustrate both moral clarity in my classroom, as well as times when I absolutely failed at establishing a trusting, collaborative ecology. It’s probably enough to say that I got way better at it, over 30+ years.

What I Still Believe about Public Education

Why would we abandon public schools’ infrastructure and experienced personnel? Crushing public education is not policy—it’s vandalism. It makes no sense.

Maybe the question is not: Is Public Education Over? Maybe the question is: What’s worth saving in public education?

Political Violence in the Classroom

Times do change. People do change. And I would assert that changing people for the better happens in good schools, every day. Not all classrooms, not all playgrounds, not all teachers—but public schooling is an overall force for good, for a better, healthier nation.

The Good News in August and Why It’s Baloney

 This is not just another start of school. This is (among other things) the first school year since 1979 when there hasn’t been a functional Department of Education. It’s a year when there’s now concrete evidence that addressing equity and appreciating diversity can get you fired. It’s a year when federal funding —especially for the neediest schools—can disappear overnight. Maybe never to return.

What’s Better than DEI?

Actually, if you’re taking away (via federally approved punishments and reduced funding) inclusion, equity and diversity, what you’ve got left is exclusion of non-preferred students, discriminatory distribution of resources, and separation of student groups based on physical characteristics. In other words, Arkansas in 1957. What happens when a latter-day Orval Faubus emerges?

Boys

While it’s important for boys to have personal agency in their learning, and be trusted by their teachers, boys need to have role models, as well. Who are we offering up as heroes, men whose lives and actions are worthy and admirable? Men worth emulating, who care for their spouses and children, men whose values serve as guardrails, men who are civically engaged?

Boys are growing up in schools where their neighbors on the school board worry about “weaponizing empathy.”  Where men at the highest levels of government power are uninformed bulliescareless in their actions but never held accountable.  

Five Things Your Child’s Teacher Accomplished Last Week

When I first heard about Elon Musk’s email blast to over two million federal employees directing them to submit approximately five bullet points of what they accomplished in the previous week, I was reminded of a couple of school administrators from my past.

Eugene Robinson called Musk’s scheme “an exercise in contempt”—also a great description of some of the so-called professional development teachers routinely endure. When a principal doesn’t trust their professional staff to know what they’d like to do with time available for their own learning or planning, you end up with meaningless exercises like “five things I did last week.”

Ultimately, it’s about control.

Who’s in Favor of Authoritarianism?
For the current administration, bent on “saving” federal dollars for their own preferences, breaking up this monolith will be a giant display of power that impacts some 50 million students and their families. Think you’re in charge of your local school, your classroom? Think again. Easy peasy.

No, the federal government–and supporting Republicans and conservative courts–say. No, we don’t want your media literacy classes. No, we don’t want kids nosing around in issues like fairness and equity in our recent history. No speaking Spanish. No arts classes or events to help students make sense of the world they live in. No vaccines to protect them, or accurate health information.

O Christmas Tree

A Fox host said this weekend that more Americans need to buy artificial Christmas trees because tree farms are needed for AI data centers: “There will be transmission lines that have to go through developments and farms. That’s the nature of a growing economy. Everybody needs to get on board. Buy a fake tree.”  (Meidas)

I live in northern Michigan. Michigan is the third highest producer of Christmas trees in the U.S., harvesting around 2 million trees each year. We have over 500 tree farms, most concentrated in the upper half of the Mitten.

Friends of mine, growing up, had low-paying summer jobs trimming the little firs and pines into their eventual iconic triangle shapes. It’s a crappy job in early summer—dangerous and scratchy—but hey. Lots of teenagers have crappy jobs. It’s America.

I have never had an artificial tree. Some of my best friends, as the saying goes, have beautiful artificial trees, for all kinds of reasons—convenience, cleanliness, allergies—and I am seriously Not Judging.

But learning from Fox News that I should buy an artificial tree—presumably to make tree farming, a local industry, fail so that the devalued land could be looted for an AI data center—made my holiday blood boil.

Tree farms—like this one—do not despoil the rolling, wooded terrain of northern Michigan, unlike AI data centers. Most are family businesses, employing local people, investing for decades in trimming and watering, for an annual end-of-year payoff. Unlike AI data centers.

As it happens, a proposed AI Data Center in nearby Kalkaska was withdrawn after resistance to the project was quickly organized. I was surprised—Kalkaska is the quintessential up-north town, with pine-paneled bars and pot shops as the main business thrust, plus a giant trout fountain in the middle of town.

You’d think they’d jump at the chance to build a huge data factory—construction jobs in an uncertain economy when unemployment is rising?  But no. They knew that “the nature of a growing economy” was going to come back to bite them with ugly power lines, jacked-up utility prices and the loss of 1500 acres of state-owned land.

When Fox News decides that fake trees are patriotic, urging us to buy plastic trees mostly made in China, to support the modern economy, something is very wrong.

But you already knew that.

We have purchased beautiful live trees from three different local sources—two of which have gone out of business in the past decade. We are scaling back this year, with a 9-foot Fraser Fir (the photo, a 12-foot Fraser, is from two years ago). Neither of us wants to get on anything higher than a stepstool anymore.

The tree cost $60, a $10 increase over last year, with the elderly, babushka-ed lady at the cash register apologizing to each and every customer. They have to charge more, she says, to stay in business. There are lots of post-teens working—hard—in the miserable cold, probably the same ones who had summer jobs trimming trees with machetes.

Our tree was cut less than 24 hours before we took it home, bundled and tied into the back of our pickup by those same local guys. It can eventually be chipped into mulch. It smells nice.

Best of all, it’s a subtle strike-back at the wave of Artificial “Intelligence” rolling toward us.

O Tannenbaum. Wie Treu sind deine Blatter.

Happy Holidays to all Teacher in a Strange Land readers.

Are Schools the Problem?

I was somewhere between irritated and curious when I saw the headline: America’s Children Are Unwell. Are Schools Part of the Problem? The subhead: From A.D.H.D. to anxiety, disorders have risen as the expectations of childhood have changed.

Well, yeah. A.D.H.D. is now better defined and diagnosed. And I certainly believe that anxiety is on the rise with our youngest people—their world came crashing down five years ago with a global pandemic.

Although I don’t think the subhead writers were thinking of this, anxiety must be through the roof for children of the undocumented, attending school while praying that their mom will come home after work and that they will still be citizens after the Supreme Court gets another whack at the Fourteenth amendment.

But have our expectations of children really changed? And are schools at fault?

Annoying headline aside, there’s a lot of alarming data in the article:

‘One million more children were diagnosed with A.D.H.D. in 2022 than in 2016. The numbers on autism are so shocking that they are worth repeating. In the early 1980s, one in 2,500 children had an autism diagnosis. That figure is now one in 31. Nearly 32 percent of adolescents have been diagnosed at some point with anxiety; the median age of “onset” is 6 years old. More than one in 10 adolescents have experienced a major depressive disorder, according to some estimates.’

It’s actually an informative read. Diane Ravitch deftly reviewed the piece in a blog post entitled Our Pressure Cooker Schools Are Destroying Children and Childhood. In fact, people have been writing about the ever-growing pressure on kids to excel for decades (especially those in high schools where getting into the Ivies or considering a gap year is common).

A couple of decades ago, ironically, we were talking about high-pressure Asian schools and why Singapore topped the international test scores. Was that what our kids needed—a literal kick in the pants? More competition? And why wasn’t the school providing that?

Here’s the thing: Schools in general—more about that word in a minute—aren’t the cause of students’ mental health issues. Schools do what they can with what they’re given, and what they are directed to do, for the most part.

First, a “school” is not precisely defined. Let’s say a good school has competent teachers, capable and cooperative support staff, thoughtful administrators, a clean and safe facility and enough resources to serve the kids assigned there. Those features can all be undone by bad policies and the social factors surrounding the school.

When the halls are lined with buckets catching snowmelt, when there is no library or science equipment, when one of the children hid a gun in his backpackwhere do we place blame? On voters who turned down the school bond issue? On the beleaguered principal? The careless parents who set a bad example? State legislatures that take money away from high-poverty public schools and give it to those who can afford private schools?

To say that “schools” are responsible for an uptick in mental health issues for students is not only unfair—it’s not accurate. The world—especially in 2025—is a scary place. For many (not all, but many) kids, school is the safest place for them to be, and I include in that number children who live in nice houses and have plenty to eat.

Have our expectations for children changed? Yes, and often in damaging ways.

Just talk to teachers. They’ll tell you that kindergarten is the new first grade. They’ll share stories of kids whose behavior is driven by shame and frustration. They’ll tell you that 15 minutes of outdoor play is a benefit, not a waste of time better used on worksheets. They’ll testify that building a cooperative community is always the first step toward learning, in pre-school and in chemistry class. They can tell stories about seeing kids work through an academic roadblock, with patience and humor—not shaming and blaming.

Veteran teachers will also pinpoint the time at which screen time and access to inappropriate, even dangerous, content began to change the way kids talk to and about each other.

Maybe we start addressing mental health issues by understanding just what it is that is making children anxious and distracted, and putting our attention and resources there.

 Don’t misunderstand—I’m not saying that schools (in addition to all the other jobs they’re expected to do) can “fix” a child with failing mental health. But schools can be a significant factor in contributing to a child’s sense of security, belonging and worth.

Youth. For Christ? At School?

I should probably preface what I’m about to say by noting that I self-identify as a liberal Christian. Without getting too far into the theological weeds—or alienating those who are rightfully skeptical about some current Christian churches’ lack of commitment to feeding the poor, etc.—I have been a church member and/or employee for decades, off and on.

All the way back to the 5th grade, in fact, playing “Angels We Have Heard on High” on my flute and swapping out my little-kid animal ears for a white robe and tinsel halo in the church Christmas pageant. Good times.

Or maybe—not so good. I’ve dealt with the insertion of religious tunes into public school holiday programs for my entire career. It’s the evergreen issue for music teachers in December. Bottom line: Public schools need to tread lightly, when it comes to the separation of church and state, even at times when you are hearing angels on high in your local grocery store or used car lot.

I retired—for good—from my last church music director position after Easter, and have since had the pleasant experience of being asked to play in several local churches, which are always looking for free talent.

Last summer, I was surprised to play a service and see two dozen teenagers seated together. There was a junior trad-wife fashion sense for the girls, all with long, curled hair and cute summer dresses. The girls were mostly carrying Bibles; the boys, with their llama-head haircuts, were carrying phones (and scrolling on them during the sermon).

Later, I learned that they were a newly organized chapter of Youth for Christ, meeting with their leaders (an attractive, early-20s married couple), in their home for coffee and prayer before school. Several of them had been baptized by that couple in Lake Michigan, earlier that month.

The guy sitting next to me at the service whispered that he was hoping that these kids were associated with Charlie Kirk’s Turning Point USA, which claims over 1000 chapters in high schools across the country: ‘Turning Point USA is also getting an assist from Republican leaders. The U.S. Department of Education announced it was partnering with the organization, along with dozens of other conservative groups, to launch a coalition to produce educational programming for schools and universities in advance of America’s 250th birthday next year.’

Eek.

I can’t tell you, precisely, what made me most uneasy about seeing perhaps 25 teenagers attending a conservative church en masse. None of the small, rural churches in this county have dozens of HS-aged members, for starters—so their organizational point was obviously somewhere other than an actual church. And the occasional teenager who showed up at the church where I worked never came dressed like a candidate on Bama Rush or looking like a Department of Labor poster boy.

It turns out that the Youth for Christ leaders are salaried, and were posted here to start a chapter, a task they accomplished by volunteering at a local school district. They got some help from a friendly uncle (real estate here is sky-high), and found a place downtown to meet, then began recruiting the kids they met while volunteering as tutors and cafeteria supervisors.

And, miracle of miracles, parents in this conservative community didn’t like it. There were 78 non-consent forms, representing 109 minor children, filed with the Youth for Christ leaders and their organization, saying, essentially: Hands off our kids. If we want them to have religious experiences, we’re in charge of that.

It’s a small school—109 minor children represent a third of the school population. YFC is undeterred, planning to establish a ‘teen hangout’ in the tiny resort downtown, courtesy of Generous Uncle. And downtown merchants, perennially cramped for space, parking and business have turned this into a zoning issue. They might actually win—as I noted, this is a conservative, business-friendly town.

But I want to return to the Christianity—if that’s the right word—inherent in recruiting members for your religious club from a public school setting. When I think about all the angst about not referencing equity, inclusion or diversity in school curricula, and all the book-banning Moms 4 Censorship types showing up at school board meetings, shouldn’t there have been outrage over paid recruiters “volunteering” and proselytizing during lunch?

Not long after Charlie Kirk was killed, CA Governor Gavin Newsome remarked on his goal of organizing young men as effectively as the TPUSA model does. He asked why left-leaning young men have not collectively fought the ‘epidemic of loneliness’ with liberal activism. I don’t have an answer for that, but it’s a good question.

In the season where Jesus sneaks into the daily life of families and communities—Joy to the World!—I am in favor of parents’ careful attention to who’s recruiting their kids.