We’ve all heard it, on the news, in legislative chambers, and in late-night political rants: “Public schools are failing.” But here’s the truth I know from experience: public schools are not failing. They are fighting every single day.

Fighting to meet students' needs with dwindling resources.
Fighting to create joy and belonging under the weight of toxic narratives.
Fighting to hold communities together while being told they’re falling apart.

Most gestures during Teacher Appreciation Week are emotional, not structural. Biscuits don’t counterbalance class sizes of 35. A social media post won’t close the pay gap between teachers and other professionals with similar education levels. And no amount of wear-your-jeans-to-work days can address the reality that many teachers still work second and even third jobs to make ends meet.

If you walk into a North Carolina public school today, there’s a one-in-five chance the student you meet is Latinx. Now, walk into the front office and ask to speak to the principal. Odds are, the person in charge won’t share that student’s language, culture, or lived experience.

That disconnect isn’t just demographic, it’s structural. And I’ve felt it personally.

Starting RootED wasn’t part of a five-year plan. It was a decision made somewhere between exhaustion and hope, Between knowing what it feels like to be invisible in rooms where decisions get made, and believing it doesn’t have to be that way.

From book bans to legislative gag orders, the message is clear: some truths are too dangerous, some histories too uncomfortable, and some identities too inconvenient. These efforts don’t just silence educators; they erase the very experiences that help young people make sense of the world and their place in it.

As the son of immigrants, I know what it feels like to carry fear quietly.

As an educator, I’ve seen how that fear moves through families. How it shows up in hushed conversations, in missed school days, in the heaviness that settles over classrooms when a student wonders if their parent will be home that night.

When I read this year’s State of the Teaching Profession report, the thing that stopped me in my tracks wasn’t the attrition numbers, it was how many of our newest teachers are entering classrooms with emergency or temporary licenses. These are bright, passionate people answering a call. But we’re handing them a system held together by urgency, not sustainability. We’re asking them to be the solution to a pipeline we haven’t truly invested in.

In this edition of The RootED Weekly, we dig into the true impact of North Carolina’s voucher expansion—who’s benefiting, who’s being left behind, and why equity in education requires more than access. It requires accountability.

Read the full post to explore what’s at stake for public education—and what we must do next.

Welcome to the very first issue of The RootED Weekly—your new go-to space for unapologetic truth-telling, actionable resources, and reflections rooted in equity, leadership, and community.

Whether you’re a classroom teacher, a district leader, or a changemaker outside of schools—you belong here. Let’s grow together.