OPINION | At the Start of the School Year, 3 Educators Reflect on How We Can Transform the School System

Seattle Public Schools (SPS) welcomed students back into classrooms this week. Three educators from the community, who are supporters of the Academy for Rising Educators program, wanted to offer words of encouragement and thoughts for South End parents, students, and educators heading into the new school year.

Back to School — From Disproportionality to Trauma to Healing

by Dr. Daudi Abe

The back-to-school advertisements that have been running for most of the summer present joyous, excited kids who can't wait for the first day. This presentation belies the uncertainty and anxiety that many other children are feeling as school draws near. The reasons vary, but with Washington teachers now enjoying relaxed standards in removing students from the classroom, some learners, especially those of color, are facing the disproportionate end of these discipline dynamics.

In Seattle, for example, African Americans have for decades faced rates of disproportionate discipline across the district, which continues to this day. A dissertation I wrote at the University of Washington College of Education in the mid-2000s on the topic highlighted the layers to this issue. While African Americans made up 20% of secondary students, they accounted for over 40% of suspensions and expulsions. In addition, more than half of reasons given by teachers for taking action could be considered "subjective" discipline (i.e., rule-breaking, disobedience, disruptive conduct), as opposed to "objective" transgressions (fighting, drugs, weapons). Were there students being disruptive or disobedient? Surely. However, the reasons being more than 50% subjective raises questions around cultural distance between these teachers (the paid professionals) and their students.

Historically, "sympathetic destroyers" have populated American classrooms. These are teachers who are either unwilling or unable to develop the kinds of authentic relationships and expectations, with students of color in particular, necessary for successful outcomes. When students struggle, the sympathetic destroyer automatically blames the student or their family, and a common refrain is, "I don't see color."

Instead, innovative teacher certification and "grow your own" programs must commit to producing "warm demanders." These educators create classroom climates based on emotional warmth; consistently demand high-quality academic performance; establish positive interpersonal relationships between themselves and students, and among students; extend their relationships with and care for students beyond the classroom; and communicate with students with non-verbal cues, such as smiles, gentle touch, and establishing a kinesthetic feeling of closeness.

The fact that these circumstances date back to the 1970s has opened the door to intergenerational academic trauma for entire families related to their experiences in SPS. Academic trauma comes from the impact of adverse, violent, ostracizing, and stigmatizing events experienced by individuals in a classroom setting. Because research has shown that Black children experience disproportionate discipline as early as preschool, cumulative events such as these can leave lasting impacts on students that they carry forward into their post-secondary education. Academic trauma can present in several ways, including being hyperfocused on grades as opposed to learning, defensiveness, not being able to take constructive criticism, withdrawal, emotional lability, lack of insight, external locus of control, underdeveloped critical thinking skills, and dependence.

Instead of harmful "trauma-informed practices," the remedy for this is what scholar Shawn Ginwright calls "healing-centered engagement" (HCE). HCE is explicitly political, rather than clinical; it is culturally grounded and views healing as the restoration of identity; it is asset-driven and focuses on the well-being we want rather than the symptoms we want to suppress; and it supports adult providers with their own healing. Adult healing is especially key, as it mirrors the important reason flight attendants emphasize putting your own mask on before attending to others in the event of cabin depressurization.

As the back-to-school industrial complex kicks into high gear, let us not forget the students who exist in the shadows and margins of education, those students whose enjoyment of summer is diminished by nervousness about the fall, who are holding onto hope for a warm demander who brings much-needed compassion, empathy, and transformative energy to the classroom.

What If? Coming Back to School in a Nation at War

by Dr. Kenderick O. Wilson

"I love learning, but hate school."

One paraprofessional on the route to becoming a certified teacher said that although he loved learning and teaching, he was frustrated by what often happens to students of color, and especially Black students, in schools. While the paraprofessional recognized that all schools have some outstanding teachers, his point was that the larger infrastructure of public schools is not resourced to educate children for today's reality. He is but one of many educators enrolled in the Academy for Rising Educators (ARE), Seattle Central College's multi-district partnership designed to help educators heal from their K-12 experiences and develop an ethnic-studies-focused approach to helping children learn about how to live and excel in a world that remains hostile to their existence. ARE has supported over 250 local residents of color to complete their degree and enter the teacher workforce with deep training in healing and love. But this program, like the many others (including Kingmakers of Seattle and ACE Academy) dedicated to addressing the harms caused by under-resourced schools, remain outside of the day-to-day operations in schools. 

Considering that the U.S. is leading global exploitation, wars, and violence targeting Communities of Color, what does the start of school mean to children? When national leaders excitedly remove lifesaving health care access, illegalize many children's parents, publicly parade through parks and streets in a show of military force, and elevate war against People of Color in the U.S. and globally, what can returning to schools mean? When our children bear witness to the suffering and starvation of Palestinian children, what does returning to schools mean? When children are aware that their teachers and schools are being attacked for trying to teach them to survive, teach them that Black Lives Matter, or teach about violence against their transgender peers, pushing beyond survival toward our shared humanity seems like a dream. In a time of such violence against our children and families, why do we continue to do education the same way?

What IF we augmented experiences for students? What IF schools were funded to make alternative ways of learning normal? What IF children could dance and draw and play and create cultural and ethnic art each day at school? What IF children were excited about going to school because they knew how to organize against wars being enacted in their name? What IF school was so relevant that students came home each day with strategies to navigate the social traumas they face and help their parents balance impossible economic burdens?

As we enter the 2025–2026 school year, I want to share a positive tone. Despite violence from the federal government, Black and Brown excellence is all around us, creating possibilities for all of our children. What it means to be a teacher today is to be a freedom fighter. And when our children love to learn but hate schools, we know we must do better. As schools are under increasing attack, now is the time to elevate our support and demand resources for schools to build together and create a system where we thrive. Before it is too late.

Growing Talent From Within

by Dr. Keisha Scarlett

The week of Aug. 18, my oldest daughter, Deja, walked into Seattle Public Schools' new teacher orientation. It was held at South Shore PK-8, the same school where I was principal more than a decade ago.

Deja isn't brand-new to teaching. She began as a teaching fellow for Impact Public Schools, taught second grade through the pandemic, and now she's back in her neighborhood at Emerson Elementary.

Back to school isn't just about supplies, buses, or schedules. It's about who stands at the front of the classroom, and who doesn't. That's where the story really begins.

I asked Deja if she noticed many other Black teachers, or teachers of color, in the room. She said, "No, just us from ARE."

Year after year, Black and Brown students walk into classrooms and never see a teacher who looks like them. That's not an accident; it's the system working exactly as it was designed. In Seattle, more than half of our students are kids of color, but fewer than 1 in 4 of their teachers are.

The Academy for Rising Educators (ARE) exists because of a moment I can't forget. In 2012, I stood in that same gym and looked out at over 250 new teacher recruits. Almost no Black or Brown teachers. That sight stayed with me. I went home and drafted a proposal for what I called the Homegrown Teacher Project. Years later, with cross-city partnerships and the leadership of Dr. Sheila Edwards Lange, then-president of Seattle Central College and now president of the University of Washington, Tacoma, ARE came to life in 2019.

This summer, its first cohort graduated with master's degrees and took jobs across Seattle. Tuition-free, barrier-free, and ready to lead in classrooms where students finally see themselves reflected.

This work matters even more now. Across the country, school boards and legislatures are slashing diversity, equity, and inclusion efforts, painting them as dangerous or unnecessary. But the truth is simple: When Seattle fails to diversify its teaching force, kids lose. They lose role models. They lose advocates. They lose the chance to see what's possible for their own futures.

Research supports the fact that teachers of color are powerful firesticks to light our students' minds and spirits. Black students who have even one Black teacher in elementary school are more likely to be identified as gifted, more likely to graduate high school, and more likely to enroll in college. Students of color with teachers of color report a stronger sense of belonging and higher expectations for their success. Representation isn't symbolic — it's catalytic.

I hold close Dr. Ivory Toldson's belief that "education is intended to reveal talent, not expose weakness." That truth has guided my work building education systems centered on student talent development.

Seattle loves to brand itself progressive. But the classroom tells another story: Students of color fill the seats, while most teachers do not look like them. That gap is more than numbers, it's a daily reminder to our kids of whose brilliance we choose to see, and whose we overlook.

Back to school shouldn't just mean returning to classrooms. It should mean recommitting to growing talent from within, giving our own communities the chance to lead. You can't be what you can't see. And when a child looks up and sees their neighbor, cousin, or mentor at the front of the room, they don't just see a teacher. They see themselves.

Dr. Daudi Abe is a humanities professor at Seattle Central College and the author of Emerald Street: A History of Hip Hop in Seattle.

Dr. Kenderick O. Wilson (K.O.) has earned a Doctoral of Educational Leadership from the University of Washington, Tacoma. K.O. is a first-generation college graduate and master's recipient who graduated from Birmingham Southern College with a Bachelor of Science in economics and math and earned a Master of Science in educational policy from the University of Washington, Seattle. K.O.'s identity and experiences influence his commitment to behavioral economics and critical race research. During the past couple of years, K.O. has worked in the Oakland, California, and Seattle communities in nonprofits, Professional Educator Standards Board (PESB), Seattle Public Schools, King County Housing Authority, and as an academic counselor at the University of Washington, Seattle, Office of Minority Affairs and Diversity (OMA&D).

Dr. Keisha Scarlett is the former superintendent of St. Louis Public Schools. She worked for Seattle Public Schools for over two decades. She's the founder and CEO of Rubescent LLC | WOVƎN.