Latest news with #ESOL
Daily Mirror
24-05-2025
- General
- Daily Mirror
'Keir Starmer has got it wrong - here's why we're not an island of strangers'
Real Britain reports on All Souls church, which closed in 1986, became a magnet for anti-social behaviour, until community worker Inayat Omarji decided to try to do something about it At All Souls in Bolton, a striking brick and sandstone church built in 1881, Muhammed Ali likes to tell departing visitors to think about who they met there that day. "I say to them, 'when you go home write down something positive about the person that was sat next to you'," the 27-year-old says. "Sharing a space can be very powerful, a way to change things. Just by sitting next to someone there can be a shift in how we understand each other." Behind him, inside the church, a group of 30 women are enjoying a free chair exercise class. "People who live in different communities and don't know each other or who wouldn't usually mix, can do here." Muhammed, who runs a help desk at All Souls for a charity called Flowhesion, says, "You start to talk, there might be a few words or a conversation and then people start to get to know each other and then understand each other, learn how similar they are. We want people to look at one another and see the good things." All Souls has a history of radical community. Built for 19th century millworkers by two local brothers Nathaniel and Thomas Greenhalgh, it has a high roof and no pillars to ensure everyone – whatever their status – had a clear view of the altar and pulpit. The church closed in 1986 and became a local symbol of dereliction and neglect. Vandalised and plundered for its lead, it fell into disrepair for two decades until a local council community worker, Inayat Omarji, decided to try to do something about it. The abandoned church had become a magnet for anti-social behaviour in the area. What if, Inayat, thought, it could become a lodestone for community instead? 'I could see that if it was cleaned up it could make a really good place for the whole community,' Inayat, 50, says. "Now we've got all kinds of groups in there – bell ringers, yoga, karate, ESOL classes, business space.' It matters, he says, because "Bolton bears the brunt of what happens nationally. At the moment, nationally there is this uneasiness. It trickles down, so we have to keep an eye on what is happening." It's been a week since Prime Minister Keir Starmer weighed in on the UK's immigration debate with his 'Island of strangers' speech. At All Souls in Bolton, and across other communities in the North-West from Manchester 's Stretford to Merseyside's Birkenhead, we've found the opposite to be true – that where communities share space and resources, something very different is happening. Bolton was among the towns hit by last summer's riots, which followed false rumours spread around the horrific murder of three little girls in Southport. A mile and a half away, Far Right protestors clashed with mainly Asian counter-protesters in the town centre. Yet here in All Souls, no-one is giving up on bringing people together. "Keir Starmer spoke of an island of strangers – but places like All Souls tell a different story," Inayat, who is part of the We're Right Here community power movement, says. 'All Souls is for all souls, a space where people come together to build shared opportunities and meaningful connections. When communities are trusted with power, belonging becomes real." The idea of building 'Community Britain' community by community in villages, towns and cities across the United Kingdom is central to a new report from the Co-operative Party and HOPE not Hate, 'Holding onto Hope', released on yesterday. New polling from Focaldata, found the most common word associated with Britain today is "declining" with four in ten people saying their neighbourhood has declined and a worrying 70 per cent saying they feel ignored by politicians. But with 65 per cent of people backing more power for local government and local people, the authors make the case for growing community power as an antidote to the rise of the populist radical right. This call is backed by Unison and the Independent Commission on Neighbourhoods. "It's clear the path to rebuilding trust in politics runs through our communities," says Co-operative Party General Secretary, Joe Fortune. "A comprehensive communities strategy which puts genuine power in the hands of local people is an antidote to the trust crisis." CEO of HOPE not hate Nick Lowles says supporting communities and winning back lost trust is the only way to fight the rise of Reform UK. "After over a decade of austerity, communities in Britain feel isolated," he says. "In times of economic hardship, it is harder to come together, forge friendships and tackle local issues. Yet this report clearly shows the country is full of proud and friendly people who deeply care about their communities." On the other side of Greater Manchester, at Stretford Hall – another building built by the Victorians, this time by philanthropists John and Enriqueta Rylands as the town's first ever library – has been rescued by the community and turned into a thriving hub. "I don't like being on my own all the time, so I come here," says retired nurse Margaret Pendleton, 79. "I like the company. It's the people that I come for." Stephen North, 76, a retired Royal Mail worker, is sitting on the same table, enjoying soup and a roll. "I just walked in one day and found all this," he says. "Here, we are all friends. You meet lots of different kinds of people. That's what it's all about really isn't it?" British Army veterans, Ivan Bailey, 72 and Joe Nathan, 76 are also having lunch. "There's so much going on in the world right now but there's community in places like this," Ivan says. "There are lots of things that aren't right in the country, we all know that, but this gives you hope, doesn't it?" Across the Mersey in Birkenhead, friends Craig Pennington and Chris Torpey, 40, have set up Future Yard in one of the UK's most deprived postcodes – to address the dearth of local music venues and training opportunities on the Wirral. "We created Future Yard because we could see that it was needed and no-one else was going to do it," Chris says. "This is our area, and we wanted to do something good. To create the kind of opportunities for people that exist elsewhere." Across the country, in town after town, are people who see the beauty in bringing disconnected, alienated communities together – rebuilding pride in where they come from. All the government needs to do is give power back to the people and join the dots to build an island of communities. "Once you engage communities you have a community, not communities," Inayat says. "That's why having a space like this is so powerful."
The National
11-05-2025
- The National
Cycling group setting wheels in motion for women in Scotland
Women On Wheels' Tuesday begins with a morning session for beginners, where riders navigate cones and obstacles, gaining one-to-one advice on how to improve their cycling skills. In the afternoon, another session allows more confident riders to set out on a gentle ride around the surrounding area, through parks or woodland areas, with hills or more challenging terrain. The women attending these sessions are New Scots who have arrived in Scotland from countries including Iran, Nigeria, Tanzania and Ukraine. Some of the women are experiencing cycling as a new hobby, and for others, they are trying to rebuild their lives and navigate an unfamiliar city, looking for connections and routine. The purpose of the sessions is not only to improve riders' skills, but to give the women a better understanding of their local area, improving their confidence to navigate Glasgow. The sessions often cover bike rides in Queen's Park or Kelvingrove, and recently helped one woman build the confidence to cycle from Maryhill all the way to the southside. For some, cultural and religious rules have prevented women from learning to cycle in their home country. Soraya, a young woman from Tanzania, explained how she had cycled as a child before being forced to give it up due to restrictions that prevented women from cycling. She said: 'In my country, as a teenager I had to stop cycling. It is especially difficult as a Muslim and while wearing a headscarf.' Since attending the sessions in Glasgow, she has seen women of different faiths and nationalities take up the activity and says 'cycling now makes me feel free'. Eilidh has run multiple riding sessions with refugees across different charities in Glasgow for almost a decade. She has successfully brought together women from across groups such as Sunny Cycles and Bikes for Refugees, to a space where women are sure to feel welcomed and comfortable. As with many grassroots initiatives, she has hopped from project to project, supporting people until funding has run out. READ MORE: Doctor who grew up in Gaza gives 'emotional' speech at Highlands pro-Palestine march Her informal WhatsApp group chat ''Cycling Sisters' is part of the success of the sessions. This group brings together women from different charities, ensuring that women are never left behind if the funding for projects runs out. Rides and sessions are shared here, as well as photographs and funny videos. Most of the women have heard about the sessions through word of mouth. For many, it is not just a cycling group but a support network, which has allowed them to gain access to more support services in Scotland or even to hear about volunteering and work opportunities. As asylum seekers are not allowed to work, many women are keen to find volunteering jobs that fit around their ESOL (English for Speakers of Other Languages) courses, a college programme that helps refugees to learn English. Women On Wheels helps to put women in contact with other groups and on the most recent Tuesday ride, the session stopped at Urban Roots, a community-led gardening project, where one woman was introduced to volunteering opportunities. The women feel that cycling is not only beneficial for their physical health, but for their mental health and sense of belonging. Edith, from Nigeria, is one of dozens of women who has taken part in the cycling sessions and feels an increased sense of community and friendship since joining. Edith was introduced to Eilidh when she was still living in hotel accommodation in Glasgow and describes the sessions as giving her confidence and happiness in an extremely challenging time. Women On Wheels works closely with the Scottish Refugee Council and will be hosting an event for Refugee Festival Scotland, taking place from June 13-22. Women from across different refugee sessions will be invited to a dinner at the Milk Cafe where they can share delicious food, in keeping with their cultures. For many, hotel food has been unfamiliar and poor, with little opportunity to cook and eat their preferred dishes. In a time of polarised political discourse surrounding refugees and displaced people, Women On Wheels and its refugee sessions are a quiet and powerful network, whose amazing work has mostly gone unnoticed. For the women who take part, these sessions are more than a bike ride. They are a space to grow in confidence, build community and friends and gain a sense of freedom and knowledge about the local area.
Yahoo
19-04-2025
- General
- Yahoo
Immigrants Keep Lining Up to Learn English as City Hall Cuts Support
This article was originally published in THE CITY. Inside a classroom at the Center for Family Life in Sunset Park on a recent Monday morning, teacher Julian Colón was busy setting out notebooks, folders, pens and crayons on a table. Outside in the hallway, a sign taped to a wall reads 'CLASES DE INGLÉS POR ESTE CAMINO' — English classes this way. It was the first day of the spring semester in this predominantly Latino corner of the Brooklyn neighborhood, where Colón was expecting about 30 students in class. Get stories like this delivered straight to your inbox. Sign up for The 74 Newsletter But not everyone who wanted a seat at the table was there. More than 400 students are now on the center's waitlist, according to Maria Ferreira, its adult employment program director. 'I sit right by the reception, and every single day we get inquiries about ESOL,' Ferreira told THE CITY, using the acronym for English for Speakers of Other Languages. 'Every day we're adding people to the waiting list.' Demand for English classes has increased with the influx of migrants that began in 2022, according to a new report by United Neighborhood Houses, which represents 46 settlement houses that help serve immigrant populations, even as City Hall has slashed funding. At Flatbush-based social services giant CAMBA, program manager Jude Pierre said more than 700 prospective students are now waiting to get into one of its 10 city-funded ESL classes, which collectively accommodate about 200 students. Related 'With the migrant crisis…we ended up getting a lot of individuals coming here to register for classes to the point where we basically had to stop taking registrations,' Pierre told THE CITY. 'We got to the point where it didn't make any more sense to have thousands of people on a waiting list, knowing we would never get to most of them. We started saying, 'Sorry, we can't do this, because it's not fair to you,' and trying to refer them to other places.' Last year, the Department of Youth and Community Development reduced funding for literacy classes by nearly 30% to $11.9 million from $16.8 million, the report noted. Many long-time providers in areas where migrant shelters were clustered also lost out on DYCD dollars after the agency adjusted its funding eligibility formula,' as THE CITY previously reported. According to the report, many classes now depend entirely on discretionary dollars from the City Council, which increased its funding to $16.5 million in fiscal year 2025 from roughly $6.5 million in recent years to back organizations DYCD left behind. Several providers, however, told THE CITY that compared to DYCD's multi-year contracts, Council funding, which requires annual reconsideration, makes it difficult to plan ahead and maximize offerings. And for some, like CAMBA, Council funding was not enough to cover the losses from DYCD with the group reducing the number of students it serves by 174 and closing its waitlist, Pierre said. So far, providers say, demand among new arrivals has remained steady even as the Trump administration's mass deportation efforts have led many new arrivals fearful of working or sending kids to school or even walking the streets. 'Ideally, these programs would be supported by a robust, baselined program managed by DYCD that offered students and providers stability with year-over-year funding,' the report says. 'However, until DYCD revisits its unnecessarily restrictive stance…it is crucial that the City Council continue this support to make sure that adult learners continue to have access to quality classes.' While fewer than 3% of the 1.7 million immigrants in need of English classes are able to access it through city-funded programs, according to the report, students who were able to find their way into a class told THE CITY improved English has helped with their daily lives — and their job prospects. Currently, two-thirds of New Yorkers with limited English proficiency earn less than $25,000 a year, according to American Community Survey data cited in the report. Rosanie Andre, 42, came to New York City from Haiti in 2023, and said she started taking English classes at CAMBA last year after three months on a waitlist. Since then, she's been able to get a job serving food at Speedway while also delivering packages for Amazon per diem. 'When I did my interviews, you have to speak in English with the manager. And it helped me a lot because I understand people now,' Andre, a native Haitian Creole and French speaker, said in English. Learning English has also helped Andre communicate with her 6-year-old — who only started speaking after their move to New York City. 'And she started to speak English — English only. She knows nothing in Creole,' Andre said. 'I try to listen to my daughter and speak to her English-only.' With her English improving, Andre said she is better able to help her daughter with her homework. 'I try to explain her how to do it in English,' Andre said. 'If no CAMBA, I have difficulty to understand. Cuz when I come here, I don't understand nothing. When people speak, I smile because I understand nothing.' Roodleir Victor, 29, saw English classes as an essential stepping stone in furthering his education. He had completed his college coursework for an economics degree in his native Haiti, he said, though he ultimately fell just short of obtaining a degree because it would have required him to stay in the country's capital, which has been embroiled in political turmoil and gang violence. He started taking English classes when he moved to the city in 2023, he said, in hopes of continuing his studies here. For four days a week, he attended English classes in Flatbush from 1 to 4 p.m. before heading to Long Island to work at a pasta factory on a 5 p.m. to 5 a.m. overnight shift. Victor is now enrolled in a GED class, he said, and hopes to study computer programming after that. 'I would like to study at a university which I can learn technology. But it's difficult for me, because I don't have the support I need to go there,' Victor said in English. 'But for me personally, I believe in my capacity to adapt.' Back in Sunset Park, a 55 year-old asylum seeker was patiently waiting to enter the room half an hour before class started at 9 a.m. 'I'm just eager to learn,' the native of Ecuador said in Spanish. 'It's important because I want to communicate with others for a job.' The mother of five arrived in New York City three months ago, she said, after seeking asylum at the Mexico-California border then being detained there for three months. She's cleaning homes to help make ends meet, but hopes to land a job with steadier income soon. 'Whatever I can get I pick up, but those jobs come and go,' she said. 'I was in a workforce development program but the curriculum was in English so I started looking for classes.' Oscar Lima rolled into English class with his e-scooter just after class started at 9:30 a.m. The 34-year-old is now in his second semester of classes, he said, which he makes time for in between catering gigs, food deliveries and a third job as a barback. 'My bosses told me, 'You're a good worker, but you need to learn English,'' Lima said. 'And I decided that I didn't want to learn English myself.' Lima and other students now settled into their seats, turning their attention to Colón. 'Everybody, are we ready? Listos?' Colón asked. 'Yes,' the class responded timidly. Colón then began presenting ground rules on a digital whiteboard: Try to arrive within the five-minute grace period after the class start time, and come prepared with books, papers and pencils. 'The most important rule,' Colón continued, before repeating himself in Spanish. 'Please don't be afraid to participate and make mistakes.' At break time, Lima shared how he, his wife and his two sons had arrived in the city from Colombia about three years ago. While the family had started off at a shelter, Lima said, they're now able to afford an apartment of their own. His two kids — seven and ten years old — quiz him about names of objects around the house, he said, and often encourages him to learn English alongside with them. 'New York, it poses many challenges. It's difficult at the beginning, but it's not impossible,' Lima said in Spanish. 'My American Dream is my sons…I want my children to perhaps have what I didn't have, but at the same time I want to show them how to earn it, and how to work like good people.' The story was originally published on THE CITY.
Yahoo
18-04-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
I'm A Teacher. Here's The Shocking Truth About The "Woke" Indoctrination Of Students That Terrifies Conservatives.
I'm a bit of a masochist. I can't help but read the comments whenever the local news posts anything political on social media — especially when it's related to public education. I've spent most of my life building a career as a public educator who emphatically embraces and promotes diversity, equity, and inclusion, and I live in Florida, where public education is very much on the chopping block and our pouty, petulant goblin of a governor has made the classroom the front line of his culture war. In recent years, whenever I read the comment section of these stories, there are scores of MAGA folks screeching in chorus about evil liberal teachers indoctrinating kids with vegan transgender socialism. 'Their [sic] teaching are [sic] kids CRT [critical race theory]!' insists one commenter. 'They want white kids to feel guilty about their race!' cries another. On and on they go — affirming, commiserating and spreading their noxious grievances. And almost none of what they claim is true. Although I'm in public higher education now, I was a public high school teacher for over a decade. I worked at three radically different schools in three radically different counties. Most of my social circle is made up of teachers. If indoctrination were occurring at scale, I'd know about it. It's just not happening. Almost every teacher I've ever met (and that number is in the high hundreds at this point) is exceedingly careful not to discuss politics or religion while at school — even with other adults, even in the relative privacy of the break room, even one-on-one in their own classrooms during lunch or planning. It's a simple matter of self-preservation — if a single student were to hear you say, 'God, I hate Gov. Ron DeSantis,' they'd tell their friends, those friends would pass it on, and by the end of the day, you'd be in the principal's office explaining that no, you do not, in fact, have a 'Fuck DeSantis' tattoo on your chest. There are exceptions, of course. In the 13 years I spent teaching high school, a handful of teachers have been openly political. I was helping a fresh-out-of-college teacher set up his classroom in 2014 when he asked me, 'Can you believe they let these Muslim kids wear their habibs [sic] in class?' This was within 15 minutes of meeting him for the first time. 'I guess the dress code doesn't apply to them. I don't know why we bend the rules for them,' he continued. He had no idea if I was Muslim. He also didn't know if I was an immigrant — even though I'm visibly Hispanic — before he then went on a rant about 'the ESOL kids,' aka students in an English for Speakers of Other Languages program, who were 'probably illegal.' Another teacher I worked with at least had the patience to ratchet his way up to vocal bigotry. He started off slow, talking about the kids with 'crazy hair colors,' and later, 'the alphabet kids,' his way of labeling students who identified as LGBTQ+. Within a few weeks, he had started complaining about 'how sick and stupid' pronouns are. 'They can call themselves whatever they want,' he said, 'just don't expect me to play pretend too.' Those two cases are essentially the extent of educators expressing their personal beliefs at work that I ever encountered. Most teachers simply don't want to risk termination by talking about potentially contentious topics at work. To this day, aside from teachers who I've befriended and spoken with outside of work, I don't know the political or religious affiliation of nearly any of my former colleagues. Teachers are that averse to potentially career-ending conflict. Of course, that's my experience with teachers interacting with other teachers. But what about inside the classroom? I couldn't possibly know what happens in every other class while I'm busy teaching my own, right? Wrong. Students talk a lot about what their teachers do and say — and they particularly love to focus on the bad stuff. Is some of it rumor, hearsay or even deliberate lies? Sure. But when you hear the same things about the same teachers week after week, year after year, from different students — including trustworthy ones — you learn to separate fact from fiction. Students told me about exactly two instances of deliberate classroom indoctrination. The biggest repeat offender was an unassuming social studies teacher. Socially, she was reserved but kind, unerringly courteous and wholly nonconfrontational. Yet in her classroom, she focused intensely on the War of Northern Aggression and the idea that it was based on 'states' rights,' but specifically not slavery. Another offender — one I mentioned earlier — routinely ridiculed the idea of pronouns and gender identity in class, refusing to acknowledge students' gender identities. He eventually lost his position because of this behavior. Despite how all of this might sound, I am honestly not claiming that scores of conservative teachers are indoctrinating our students in the classroom. Over the course of my 13 years of personal observation and dozens of discussions (outside of work) with teacher friends, those are the only two instances that I have personally encountered. The fact that these two teachers held right-wing views appears purely coincidental to me. The bigger takeaway is that like in-person voter fraud, political indoctrination in public schools is incredibly rare. And there's a good reason why it's so vanishingly infrequent ... and it honestly might shock you. It's because almost every teacher out there is spending every ounce of their energy and patience trying to get their students to read just one paragraph without looking at their phones. They're too busy trying to get students to complete just one math problem without saying, 'This is too hard.' To write just one essay without using ChatGPT. To turn in just one assignment on time. And that's when they're not revising their lesson plans to align with the state's new Best-Ever Evidence-Based Data-Driven Standards That Are Guaranteed To Promote Mastery and Cultivate a Growth Mindset This Time. (Note: These will be deemed outdated and obsolete within two to four years, and replaced with Even-Better Standards, which will be functionally indistinguishable.) These revisions, of course, have to be scheduled around their student data chats, individualized education program meetings, professional learning communities, parent-teacher conferences, morning duty, hall duty and afternoon duty, all of which occur outside of mandatory faculty meetings (that always could have been emails). Of course, rational people know that there isn't rampant classroom indoctrination, but 'liberal teacher indoctrinating your children' has been a favorite bogeyman of the right for at least as long as I've been alive — part of a decades-long fight against public education that so many people have been sounding alarm bells over — and now I worry it's too goddamn late. Too many voters believed that schools are chopping off kids' genitals during recess. Too many voters believed that schools have litter boxes for kids who identify as cats. Too many voters believed that teachers promote feelings over facts. The most gullible among us voted for Donald Trump (he's a good businessman, after all!), and now the Department of Education is dead, graduate schools can no longer afford to bring in the next generation of scientists, doctors, engineers, lawyers and journalists, middle-class people are seeing their student loan monthly payments double, triple, or quadruple, and state and local public education funds are being gleefully snatched from public schools and funneled into for-profit corporate charter 'schools.' The generation of children and young adults whose education was already heavily disrupted by the pandemic is now left with far fewer, far worse post-secondary options than any generation before them in the modern age. And that's aside from rising unemployment, rising inflation and a housing market that is outrageously unaffordable. But hey, at least eggs are cheap now. Oh, wait... Marco Vanserra is the pseudonym of a professional educator and public school advocate. He specializes in making mathematics relevant and accessible to underserved communities in Florida. This article originally appeared on HuffPost in April 2025.
Yahoo
18-04-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
I'm A Teacher. Here's The Shocking Truth About The "Woke" Indoctrination Of Students That Terrifies Conservatives.
I'm a bit of a masochist. I can't help but read the comments whenever the local news posts anything political on social media — especially when it's related to public education. I've spent most of my life building a career as a public educator who emphatically embraces and promotes diversity, equity, and inclusion, and I live in Florida, where public education is very much on the chopping block and our pouty, petulant goblin of a governor has made the classroom the front line of his culture war. In recent years, whenever I read the comment section of these stories, there are scores of MAGA folks screeching in chorus about evil liberal teachers indoctrinating kids with vegan transgender socialism. 'Their [sic] teaching are [sic] kids CRT [critical race theory]!' insists one commenter. 'They want white kids to feel guilty about their race!' cries another. On and on they go — affirming, commiserating and spreading their noxious grievances. And almost none of what they claim is true. Although I'm in public higher education now, I was a public high school teacher for over a decade. I worked at three radically different schools in three radically different counties. Most of my social circle is made up of teachers. If indoctrination were occurring at scale, I'd know about it. It's just not happening. Almost every teacher I've ever met (and that number is in the high hundreds at this point) is exceedingly careful not to discuss politics or religion while at school — even with other adults, even in the relative privacy of the break room, even one-on-one in their own classrooms during lunch or planning. It's a simple matter of self-preservation — if a single student were to hear you say, 'God, I hate Gov. Ron DeSantis,' they'd tell their friends, those friends would pass it on, and by the end of the day, you'd be in the principal's office explaining that no, you do not, in fact, have a 'Fuck DeSantis' tattoo on your chest. There are exceptions, of course. In the 13 years I spent teaching high school, a handful of teachers have been openly political. I was helping a fresh-out-of-college teacher set up his classroom in 2014 when he asked me, 'Can you believe they let these Muslim kids wear their habibs [sic] in class?' This was within 15 minutes of meeting him for the first time. 'I guess the dress code doesn't apply to them. I don't know why we bend the rules for them,' he continued. He had no idea if I was Muslim. He also didn't know if I was an immigrant — even though I'm visibly Hispanic — before he then went on a rant about 'the ESOL kids,' aka students in an English for Speakers of Other Languages program, who were 'probably illegal.' Another teacher I worked with at least had the patience to ratchet his way up to vocal bigotry. He started off slow, talking about the kids with 'crazy hair colors,' and later, 'the alphabet kids,' his way of labeling students who identified as LGBTQ+. Within a few weeks, he had started complaining about 'how sick and stupid' pronouns are. 'They can call themselves whatever they want,' he said, 'just don't expect me to play pretend too.' Those two cases are essentially the extent of educators expressing their personal beliefs at work that I ever encountered. Most teachers simply don't want to risk termination by talking about potentially contentious topics at work. To this day, aside from teachers who I've befriended and spoken with outside of work, I don't know the political or religious affiliation of nearly any of my former colleagues. Teachers are that averse to potentially career-ending conflict. Of course, that's my experience with teachers interacting with other teachers. But what about inside the classroom? I couldn't possibly know what happens in every other class while I'm busy teaching my own, right? Wrong. Students talk a lot about what their teachers do and say — and they particularly love to focus on the bad stuff. Is some of it rumor, hearsay or even deliberate lies? Sure. But when you hear the same things about the same teachers week after week, year after year, from different students — including trustworthy ones — you learn to separate fact from fiction. Students told me about exactly two instances of deliberate classroom indoctrination. The biggest repeat offender was an unassuming social studies teacher. Socially, she was reserved but kind, unerringly courteous and wholly nonconfrontational. Yet in her classroom, she focused intensely on the War of Northern Aggression and the idea that it was based on 'states' rights,' but specifically not slavery. Another offender — one I mentioned earlier — routinely ridiculed the idea of pronouns and gender identity in class, refusing to acknowledge students' gender identities. He eventually lost his position because of this behavior. Despite how all of this might sound, I am honestly not claiming that scores of conservative teachers are indoctrinating our students in the classroom. Over the course of my 13 years of personal observation and dozens of discussions (outside of work) with teacher friends, those are the only two instances that I have personally encountered. The fact that these two teachers held right-wing views appears purely coincidental to me. The bigger takeaway is that like in-person voter fraud, political indoctrination in public schools is incredibly rare. And there's a good reason why it's so vanishingly infrequent ... and it honestly might shock you. It's because almost every teacher out there is spending every ounce of their energy and patience trying to get their students to read just one paragraph without looking at their phones. They're too busy trying to get students to complete just one math problem without saying, 'This is too hard.' To write just one essay without using ChatGPT. To turn in just one assignment on time. And that's when they're not revising their lesson plans to align with the state's new Best-Ever Evidence-Based Data-Driven Standards That Are Guaranteed To Promote Mastery and Cultivate a Growth Mindset This Time. (Note: These will be deemed outdated and obsolete within two to four years, and replaced with Even-Better Standards, which will be functionally indistinguishable.) These revisions, of course, have to be scheduled around their student data chats, individualized education program meetings, professional learning communities, parent-teacher conferences, morning duty, hall duty and afternoon duty, all of which occur outside of mandatory faculty meetings (that always could have been emails). Of course, rational people know that there isn't rampant classroom indoctrination, but 'liberal teacher indoctrinating your children' has been a favorite bogeyman of the right for at least as long as I've been alive — part of a decades-long fight against public education that so many people have been sounding alarm bells over — and now I worry it's too goddamn late. Too many voters believed that schools are chopping off kids' genitals during recess. Too many voters believed that schools have litter boxes for kids who identify as cats. Too many voters believed that teachers promote feelings over facts. The most gullible among us voted for Donald Trump (he's a good businessman, after all!), and now the Department of Education is dead, graduate schools can no longer afford to bring in the next generation of scientists, doctors, engineers, lawyers and journalists, middle-class people are seeing their student loan monthly payments double, triple, or quadruple, and state and local public education funds are being gleefully snatched from public schools and funneled into for-profit corporate charter 'schools.' The generation of children and young adults whose education was already heavily disrupted by the pandemic is now left with far fewer, far worse post-secondary options than any generation before them in the modern age. And that's aside from rising unemployment, rising inflation and a housing market that is outrageously unaffordable. But hey, at least eggs are cheap now. Oh, wait... Marco Vanserra is the pseudonym of a professional educator and public school advocate. He specializes in making mathematics relevant and accessible to underserved communities in Florida. This article originally appeared on HuffPost in April 2025.
