I’m sharing my thoughts on school choice not as someone with a political agenda, not as someone labeled an Uncle Tom (a term I dislike, because if you read the book beyond Richard Wright’s perspective, you’d know that Uncle Tom was NOT what people think). I’m not here to idolize Trump, either—his actions frustrate me deeply, and I can’t help but wonder why Pence isn’t the nominee. He sacrificed so much to protect the Constitution. But I digress. I’m not trying to impose pro-life views or oppose gay marriage, nor do I carry the Republican or Conservative Christian baggage that prevents open dialogue.
I’m discussing school choice as a human being—an educator, a mother, a school leader, a citizen, and someone deeply passionate about reaching young people. Yesterday, I attended a breakfast at the Museum of the Bible in D.C., where Governor Youngkin and his wife spoke about Christians’ roles in politics. At first, I hesitated to accept the invitation, worried my actions might be misconstrued as political. This anxiety stems from recognizing the urgent need for reform in K-12 education; I don’t want anyone from my community to dismiss my beliefs because they think I’m conservative or liberal. Usually, I avoid political events, but I felt a strong pull to attend, and I ended up feeling truly blessed.
One inspiring takeaway from Youngkin was his emphasis on bringing people together in a non-partisan, interfaith manner. As he spoke and I listened to other panels afterward, my passion for school choice surged. I realized how deeply I care about this issue. When the mic opened for questions, my emotions poured out in a plea for how to elevate school choice to a federal priority.
I struggle to understand how school choice became part of a contentious political debate. One argument suggests that school choice is inherently racist. But school choice cannot be racist, as Black Americans have historically used it to protect their children from segregation and the racism stemming from redlining, which confines students to under-resourced public schools. As a former public school teacher who has also worked in private and charter schools, I’ve seen the hopelessness many parents feel in trying to protect their children from harmful school environments. They often have few options due to financial constraints. I’ve trained parents to homeschool while working, advocated for scholarships from local private schools, and accepted students into my school regardless of their ability to pay. I’m so passionate about the safety and well-being of children that I can’t just look away! When I hear anger directed at school choice, it frustrates me. The argument is often made that we need to invest in improving public schools. But many children are in danger NOW; they cannot wait for systemic funding to reach every school and ensure every child thrives.
No school can meet the unique needs of every student. This isn’t about race or political agendas—it’s about the CHILD! Education shouldn’t be a competition over who does it better. Even as the founder of a school, I know we can’t meet every child’s needs. In those cases, I recommend private, public, or charter schools that might better serve them (often public schools have more resources like counseling and special needs programs). Educators who understand my mission do the same, referring students to my school when it fits their needs better. Education shouldn’t be politicized; it should be about collaboration, and our children are calling for us to unite in this effort!
Rejecting school choice is one of the most undemocratic stances of the Democratic party. I confronted this directly when I was a principal at a school that accepted the D.C. Opportunity Scholarship. For the first time, after growing up in a staunchly Democratic household, I began to question the entire political landscape. Our school served Ward 7 of D.C., one of the most challenged neighborhoods in the area. There was a consistent push to eliminate the scholarship, which put parents at risk who sought better environments for their children but couldn’t afford private schooling. My students faced real dangers, sometimes being robbed at gunpoint as they entered the building. We regularly locked down the school due to nearby shootings. I even witnessed the traumatic murder of a beloved mother of one of my students. Yet, amidst these challenges, our school became a haven. Many students graduated and went on to college, finding a way out. Public schools surrounded us, yet I never saw the government rushing to improve conditions in those schools, while upper Northwest received starkly different treatment. It’s been over ten years since I left that school, and little has changed regarding the safety and health of schools in that area.
I recall another instance after founding my school, when a Latino family came to us because their son was being recruited by MS-13. We welcomed him into our school, which was a safer alternative in a neighborhood plagued by gang violence. The Living Water School was nearby, and gang members would sometimes come onto our property. We invited police presence to patrol, even baking cookies to express our gratitude. Though it was technically against the law for them to protect us because we weren’t a public school, they at least drove through to show a presence. The community held meetings to address the gang influence, but it seemed the government lacked the resources to tackle the problem effectively. The Latino family wasn’t betraying America by choosing to leave their original school; the system wasn’t solving the problem quickly enough. Public schools must take in all students, gang-affiliated or not. Parents should be able to petition the government for alternatives if they can’t afford them. I don’t understand why this has to be so complicated! America can find funds for everyone else but its own children!
This situation reflects what many schools in predominantly Black and marginalized communities face. I wish we could view education as a partnership. Children and parents deserve the right to choose schools that meet their unique needs. Schools shouldn’t compete; supporting all types of schools doesn’t endanger public education. Faith-based students often face bullying in public schools, making them afraid to express their beliefs. Should these children have to endure an environment that contradicts their values? Is providing families with funds for an education that respects their beliefs an intrusion on the Constitution? This country was founded on religious freedom! Every citizen, regardless of faith, deserves that freedom. Many children have deep cultural practices that are overlooked or mocked in public schools, affecting their sense of belonging. When we accepted the Latino student, he learned about Latino American history and told me how, despite attending a predominantly Black school, he faced regular mockery of his accent and culture. His parents didn’t speak English, so he lived within his culture, yet felt compelled to hide it at school to fit in. There are countless needs among children, and no single school can address them all, but together, we can work to meet those needs.
Investing in children creates more positive individuals who can improve our country. Supporting all schools could enhance public education, which is often overcrowded and overwhelmed. When students struggle, it isn’t always because of a failing school; it can be due to insufficient support for each child. We will always need public schools, but families with diverse beliefs, learning styles, and emotional needs shouldn’t have to suffer in schools that aren’t right for them. We should all want every child to find a healthy educational environment. Embracing this could reduce crime and other societal challenges, as children receive the education they need to thrive. Those children will grow up to be assets to society, not burdens.
Having grown up in Christian schools from preK through 12th grade, I experienced horrific racism there. Fears surrounding school choice often stem from the history of racism in Christian schools in America. School choice is also shadowed by the legacy of churches establishing schools to avoid desegregation. Many fear that by supporting school choice, we’re funding institutions with racist agendas, which is understandable. However, rather than outright rejecting school choice, we should hold all schools accountable for fostering healthy environments for children. School choice itself is not inherently racist, but certain schools do exhibit racist practices. It’s crucial to hold these institutions accountable for moving away from the discriminatory principles on which they were established. I’m not advocating for school choice without accountability; I just want us to engage in constructive conversations instead of arguments about it! Our country allocates significant funds to community centers, libraries, international aid, and other initiatives, yet neglects our own children. If even a fraction of that funding could be redirected to support ALL children in receiving the education they deserve, we might end up spending less on our prison systems.
Dr. Anika T. Prather 