*This is a picture of a former student from the school my parents founded at their church The Washington Christian Center. The school was called Washington Classical Christian School and students had to wear Kente Clot vests and ties, all while engaging in the classical tradition. This student has grown up to serve in the military.
When it came time for me to begin my student teaching as an undergraduate at Howard University, I was one of seven students selected to complete my student teaching in a highly regarded public school district. Following that experience, I was one of only three students offered a teaching position with the district. My first assignment was at a low-income elementary school where the vast majority of students qualified for free and reduced-price lunch. I taught fifth grade there for four years. Afterward, I transferred to a more affluent school community, where I taught third grade for two years. At that school, I was one of only two Black teachers, and there were perhaps five students of color in a student body of approximately five hundred students.
These two schools represented very different communities and offered students very different educational experiences. It was at the second school that I was first introduced to inquiry-based teaching and the Junior Great Books program. In contrast, the school where I began my career often relied on outdated curriculum materials, and the level of academic rigor was noticeably lower. I vividly remember receiving criticism during an observation because I taught a grammar lesson to my predominantly Black and Latino students. The evaluator told me that grammar was not something I should be teaching them, despite the fact that it was included in the curriculum my principal had assigned me to teach. Yet when I moved to the more affluent school and began teaching students two grade levels younger, I was told that I must teach those students how to write effective paragraphs. The contrast was striking. The expectations placed upon children in the two schools were dramatically different, despite the fact that both groups of students were fully capable of rigorous academic work.
When I entered the profession, Whole Language instruction had become the dominant philosophy in literacy education. By the time I arrived in Bethesda, however, many educators were beginning to recognize that something was not working. It would not be until around the COVID era that the nation more formally acknowledged the need for change. One of the tragic consequences of Whole Language instruction was that students who lacked strong literacy support at home often did not acquire the foundational skills necessary for reading and writing proficiency. For many children, especially those already facing economic and social disadvantages, the result was a generation of students who struggled with literacy in profound ways.
My heart still grieves for some of my earliest students. They were already beginning life with significant obstacles, yet they were also denied consistent access to the explicit language instruction that could have empowered them academically and socially. In some ways, educational policy reinforced the very inequities it claimed to address. These experiences planted the seeds that would eventually grow into my passion for bringing classical education to all students. The teaching of grammar, language structure, and precise communication has always been a foundational component of the classical tradition. As educators began moving away from Whole Language after witnessing its shortcomings, the search for solutions led many back to practices that were, in reality, quite old. Schools began re-emphasizing explicit writing instruction, systematic phonics, inquiry-based learning, and other approaches that had long been hallmarks of effective teaching.
Today, we even see the growing inclusion of Latin roots instruction as a means of developing morphological awareness. These practices are often grouped under the umbrella of the Science of Reading (SoR). While the terminology may be new, many of the underlying principles are not. In many ways, the Science of Reading represents a return to educational practices that were commonplace when classical education was simply known as education. We now live in a time when many people assume that classical or liberal arts education is something radically different from what occurs in public, private, or charter schools. Yet many of the principles promoted by the Science of Reading overlap significantly with the classical tradition. Likewise, programs such as International Baccalaureate incorporate important elements of classical education, particularly through inquiry-based learning experiences rooted in the spirit of Socratic dialogue. What many educators describe as innovative today often has deep roots in educational traditions that have existed for centuries. IB shares its mission, referencing inquiry based learning:
The International Baccalaureate® aims to develop inquiring, knowledgeable and caring young people who help to create a better and more peaceful world through intercultural understanding and respect
One reason there is resistance to classical education is that some people associate the term with versions of the movement that have been embraced or co-opted by voices on the far right. As a result, there is often a concern that references to classical education are tied to political indoctrination, nationalism, or even Christian nationalism. One thing I have come to appreciate through my work in Catholic higher education is that Catholics have often preferred the term liberal education rather than classical education. Increasingly, I find myself embracing that language as well. While the two traditions are deeply connected, the term liberal education better captures what first drew me to this work. It emphasizes freedom—the freedom that comes from learning how to think, how to question, how to discern, and how to engage the world thoughtfully and responsibly.
At its best, classical/liberal education is not about narrowing students’ perspectives or shaping them into a particular political ideology. Rather, it invites them into a broad conversation about what it means to be human. It encourages them to encounter diverse ideas, wrestle with difficult questions, seek truth, and develop the intellectual habits necessary for thoughtful citizenship and meaningful participation in society. From my own experience, this tradition has been exactly what its name suggests, liberating. It has opened doors for me, challenged my assumptions, deepened my faith, and connected me to people, ideas, and stories from across cultures and throughout history. More importantly, I have seen it do the same for my students. That is why I remain committed to this work. Whether we call it classical education or liberal education, I believe its best elements belong to everyone, and that all students deserve the opportunity to experience the freedom that comes from learning how to think deeply, read carefully, ask meaningful questions, and engage the world with wisdom and wonder.
One of the greatest challenges I faced in finding an intellectual home for my educational philosophy was locating a teacher preparation program that viewed the classical and liberal arts tradition as a valuable framework for teaching and learning. At The Catholic University of America, all teacher candidates complete a substantial liberal arts core before beginning their professional education coursework. Within this environment, I have found the freedom to incorporate aspects of the liberal arts and classical traditions into my methods courses and other elements of our program. The connection between Catholic education and the liberal arts tradition is well established. For centuries, Catholic schools and universities have viewed the liberal arts as essential to the formation of the whole person—intellectually, morally, and spiritually. As the Institute for Catholic Liberal Education explains:
Catholic liberal education is the cultivation of faith and reason for full human flourishing. Based in the liberal arts and sciences, this educational vision that was developed by the Catholic Church was the gold standard of formation for centuries. The proof of its success? It formed many of the holiest saints and keenest minds in history, including such greats as St. Augustine, St. Thomas Aquinas, St. Thomas More, St. John Henry Newman, and Pope Benedict XVI.
The reason our teacher candidates are required to complete liberal arts coursework (as are all students at Catholic University) is that these studies help them develop the ability to unite faith and reason in their life’s work. Teaching is more than a trade in which one simply learns classroom management techniques or how to grade assignments. Rather, it is a vocation that requires educators to think deeply about what it means to be human and what it means to cultivate the minds and hearts of future generations. Through the liberal arts, our students begin to see education as the formation of whole persons. They come to understand that the children sitting in their classrooms are not merely students who must master academic content, but human beings with the potential to contribute meaningfully to their communities and, perhaps, to change the world. The liberal arts invite future teachers to wrestle with enduring questions of truth, goodness, beauty, justice, and purpose so that they can guide their own students in doing the same. This vision is deeply rooted in the mission of Catholic education. At The Catholic University of America, this commitment is reflected in the work of the Institute for Transformative Catholic Education, which seeks to prepare educators who can engage the intellectual, moral, and spiritual dimensions of teaching and learning. As the Institute explains, one of its purposes is:
We guide schools in providing a holistic and integrated curriculum that is defined by the Catholic intellectual tradition and attuned to all that is true, beautiful, and good, forming the whole person, body, mind, and soul.
Some may wonder how this perspective on the Catholic Intellectual Tradition—which naturally incorporates elements of the classical and liberal arts tradition—fits within a teacher education program that prepares candidates to work in public schools. I have often heard people suggest that these two approaches should remain separate. Some question how teaching future educators to use Socratic Dialogue to increase comprehension and critical thinking could possibly prepare them for public education. I would argue that this question emerges from a misunderstanding of both classical education and modern educational research. While it is true that not every aspect of the Catholic Intellectual Tradition can be implemented in a public school setting, particularly its explicitly religious dimensions, many of its educational practices are already widely used in public schools. In fact, some of the most celebrated developments in contemporary education are rooted in principles that have existed within the classical tradition for centuries.
When people hear the term classical education, they often imagine students reading Homer, studying Latin, or engaging in Socratic seminars. While those elements are certainly part of the tradition, they are not the whole story. Classical education has always included the systematic teaching of language itself. Students learned phonics, grammar, vocabulary, sentence structure, rhetoric, and logic as foundational skills before moving into more complex forms of reading, writing, and discussion. The very first stage of the classical Trivium, which is the Grammar Stage, was devoted to helping students master the building blocks of language and knowledge. For much of American history, these foundational practices were simply considered good teaching. Students learned phonics explicitly. They diagrammed sentences. They memorized poetry. They studied grammar and vocabulary. They learned Latin roots and word origins to deepen their understanding of language. These practices were not reserved for elite schools; they were woven into the fabric of American education.
As the twentieth century progressed, many of these approaches began to disappear from classrooms. Whole Language instruction shifted attention away from explicit instruction in phonics and grammar and toward immersion in texts. While this approach worked for some students, it often left behind those who lacked strong literacy support outside of school. As evidence mounted that many students were struggling to read proficiently, educators began searching for solutions. What is fascinating is that many of the solutions now being embraced through the Science of Reading represent a return to practices that educators once took for granted. Explicit phonics instruction, morphology, vocabulary development, grammar awareness, background knowledge, and close attention to language structure have all reemerged as essential components of literacy instruction. The Science of Reading may be presented as something new, but in many respects it is a rediscovery of educational wisdom that previous generations understood well.
Even the growing emphasis on teaching Greek and Latin roots reflects this return. Morphological awareness helps students understand how words work and supports vocabulary growth and reading comprehension. While modern educators may discuss these practices using contemporary terminology, they are rooted in methods that have long been part of the classical tradition. Likewise, the Science of Reading recognizes that successful reading depends on more than decoding words. Students must also develop language comprehension, vocabulary, reasoning skills, and background knowledge. This is where Socratic Dialogue enters the conversation. Through thoughtful questioning and discussion, students learn to analyze texts, make inferences, defend ideas with evidence, listen carefully to differing perspectives, and construct meaning. In other words, Socratic Dialogue strengthens many of the very comprehension skills that literacy researchers now identify as essential for successful reading. While Socratic Dialogue is often associated with classical education, its emphasis on discussion, comprehension, reasoning, and meaning-making aligns naturally with contemporary understandings of how students develop literacy.
For this reason, I do not view the relationship between classical education and public education as oppositional. Rather, I see significant overlap between the two. Inquiry-based learning, close reading, discussion-based comprehension, vocabulary development, phonics instruction, grammar study, and the cultivation of reasoning skills all have deep roots within the classical tradition. Many of these same practices are now being encouraged in public schools through the Science of Reading and other evidence-based approaches. This is why I believe housing teacher education within a liberal arts environment is so powerful. It allows future teachers to see beyond methods and standards and to think more deeply about the purpose of education itself. Rather than viewing teaching as the delivery of curriculum, they begin to understand it as the formation of human beings. They learn not only how to teach students what to think, but how to help students think well.
My own experience as a parent has reinforced this conviction. My sons have been educated in classical schools from kindergarten through the present day. As they prepare to enter ninth and eleventh grade, they have never spent years being trained to take standardized tests. Yet I wanted to see whether a classical education would prepare them to succeed in more traditional educational environments. For that reason, I encouraged them to take the PSAT. They were nervous. “Mommy, we’ve never done anything like this before. I don’t know if we’re ready.” I assured them that no one would see the scores but me and told them simply to do their best. Both boys scored above average. I chose the PSAT because it is a measure recognized by public schools, and I wanted to know whether the habits of mind cultivated through a classical education would equip them to succeed in conventional academic settings. The results confirmed what I had long suspected: nothing was lost through their classical education. If anything, they had gained skills that transferred across contexts.
I have witnessed the same phenomenon among students who left my own school for financial reasons or because they desired a larger high school experience. Again and again, these students entered public schools and excelled. One former student earned the highest score on the SAT in his high school and received a laptop as a result. He had been my student from 4th through 10th grade and chose to spend his last 2 years of highschool playing basketball and enjoying the larger school experience in a public school. Today he is thriving in college. These experiences are not formal research findings, but they have convinced me that classical and liberal arts education offers powerful tools for increasing student achievement. When I conduct professional development for public school educators, I do not attempt to turn their schools into classical academies. Instead, I introduce specific practices drawn from the tradition, like close reading, rich discussion, inquiry, narration, vocabulary study, and Socratic questioning that can be implemented in any classroom. Teachers consistently report that these approaches deepen student engagement and comprehension.
Recently, I have begun asking educators whether classical and liberal arts teacher preparation should be separated from public school teacher preparation. Some believe it should. I respectfully disagree. Historically, there was no such separation. The liberal arts tradition was not reserved for a select group of schools. It shaped education throughout America. For generations, children in public schools learned grammar, rhetoric, phonics, literature, history, and moral reasoning through methods deeply influenced by the classical tradition. These practices were simply considered part of a good education. In fact, the influence of this tradition was so widespread that even enslaved people who managed to gain access to education often encountered elements of it. It was not viewed as a specialized philosophy. It was simply education.
Why, then, should it now be treated as a specialized approach suitable only for certain students or certain schools? I believe every teacher, regardless of where they teach, can benefit from understanding the classical and liberal arts tradition. Public school teachers, charter school teachers, private school teachers, and Catholic school teachers all serve students who deserve more than the mere delivery of content. They deserve teachers who know how to cultivate curiosity, deepen understanding, encourage thoughtful dialogue, and inspire wonder. At its best, the classical tradition provides precisely those tools. It helps teachers move beyond simply presenting curriculum and equips them to lead students into deeper learning.
I believe a teacher education program that thoughtfully and gently infuses elements of the classical and liberal arts tradition into its teacher preparation can produce strong, adaptable educators who are prepared to teach effectively in any setting—public, private, charter, or faith-based. The foundational skills cultivated through this tradition, like careful reading, thoughtful questioning, clear communication, deep content knowledge, and an understanding of human flourishing, and more are not limited to one type of school. They are qualities that strengthen good teaching wherever it occurs. At the same time, I also see value in creating specialized pathways for those who desire to teach exclusively in classical schools. Such a track would allow future educators to engage more deeply with the history, philosophy, pedagogy, and curriculum unique to classical education. As the movement continues to grow, there is certainly a need for teachers who are specifically trained to serve in these environments.
My own passion, however, lies elsewhere. My goal is not simply to prepare classical school teachers. Rather, it is to demonstrate how the wisdom of this tradition can enrich the work of all educators. I want future teachers to see that practices such as inquiry, Socratic dialogue, narration, close reading, grammar instruction, vocabulary development, and the cultivation of wonder are not confined to classical schools. They are educational tools that can strengthen teaching and learning in virtually any classroom. Ultimately, my hope is that as more teacher preparation programs engage aspects of this tradition, more students will benefit from it. Whether a child attends a public school, charter school, private school, Catholic school, or homeschool program should not determine whether they have access to educational practices that cultivate wisdom, curiosity, eloquence, and thoughtful citizenship. The strengths of the classical and liberal arts tradition belong to no single educational sector. They are part of a broader educational inheritance that has the potential to inspire teachers and students alike.
The more we can thoughtfully share that inheritance across educational settings, the more children will have the opportunity to experience its benefits. And surely that is something we all should want for every child. I will never forget the school my parents founded in 2000, where for more than a decade they brought a classical education to Black students in Prince George’s County. It was during my time there that my eyes were first opened to the transformative power of this tradition. I witnessed firsthand how a rich, intellectually challenging education could awaken curiosity, confidence, and a love of learning in students who had too often been underestimated.
That experience convinced me that classical education is not for a select few. It has the potential to benefit every child who has access to it. Even if students are exposed to only some elements of the tradition (i.e. careful reading, strong phonics instruction, grammar, inquiry, rich discussion, vocabulary development, and the cultivation of wonder, etc.) the impact can be profound. These practices have the power to change the trajectory of children’s lives. I saw it in the lives of the students at my parents’ school (the memory of those students in their Kente cloth vests and ties disussing Plato is etched in my mind), and I continue to see it today in the lives of the students I teach at The Living Water School. Over the years, I have witnessed too many success stories to walk away from this work. Those experiences have made me unapologetically persistent when it comes to advocating for broader access to this educational tradition. I remain committed to finding ways to bring as much of it as possible to as many students as possible, in as many educational settings as possible.
That is one reason I have been encouraged by my work with future teachers at The Catholic University of America and our partnerships with public schools, including the District of Columbia Public Schools. As I teach teacher candidates about the Science of Reading, which is the primary literacy framework used in DCPS, I am continually struck by the connections between this contemporary movement and longstanding practices within the liberal arts and classical tradition. The renewed emphasis on phonics, morphology, vocabulary development, language structure, background knowledge, and reading comprehension reflects principles that have been valued within this tradition for centuries. For me, this is an encouraging sign. It suggests that the educational world is beginning to rediscover the value of practices that were once foundational to learning. While the language may be different and the framework may be new, many of the underlying principles are familiar. Seeing these connections gives me hope that more students, regardless of where they attend school, will have access to the kinds of educational experiences that cultivate wisdom, literacy, critical thinking, and human flourishing. In many ways, my life’s work has become an effort to build bridges between these worlds. My desire is to help educators recognize that the best elements of the classical and liberal arts tradition are not relics of the past, but living practices that can enrich teaching and learning for students today. If we are willing to share these gifts broadly, we may find that they have the power to transform far more lives than we ever imagined.
Dr. Anika T. Prather 