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From the desk of Dr. Melvin J. Brown

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Transforming Mindsets. Unlocking Potential. Changing the World.

  • The Importance of Recess in Schools: More Than Just Play

    In today’s climate of high-stakes testing, rigorous standards, and relentless schedules, recess can sometimes be viewed as a luxury rather than a necessity. Yet, research and experience tell us a different story: recess is not just a break from learning — it’s an essential part of it. As educators, we must advocate for a holistic view of student success, one that honors the mind, body, and heart.

    1. Recess Fuels Cognitive Development

    Children’s brains are not built for nonstop academic engagement. Studies show that unstructured play and physical activity significantly improve focus, memory retention, and problem-solving skills. After recess, students return to the classroom more alert, ready to engage, and better equipped to absorb new material. Recess isn’t stealing time from learning — it’s enhancing it.

    2. Physical Health and Wellness

    Recess provides one of the few guaranteed opportunities in a school day for students to move their bodies freely. With rising concerns about childhood obesity and sedentary lifestyles, recess offers:

    Increased daily physical activity Improved cardiovascular health Development of motor skills and coordination

    Beyond the physical benefits, movement also reduces stress hormones and boosts endorphins, supporting overall mental health.

    3. Building Social and Emotional Skills

    Recess is where children learn some of life’s most important lessons. In these unstructured spaces, students:

    Negotiate rules and resolve conflicts Build empathy and cooperation Practice leadership and teamwork

    These skills are as vital as any academic standard. By protecting recess, we’re also protecting opportunities for students to develop emotional intelligence and resilience.

    4. Supporting Mental Health

    For many students, recess serves as a mental reset — a chance to breathe, reflect, and restore emotional balance. Especially in a world where anxiety and depression among young people are on the rise, schools must prioritize spaces where joy and play are part of the day.

    5. Equity and Access Matter

    In some schools, recess is withheld as a form of punishment or reduced in favor of more academic time. But removing recess disproportionately impacts students who already face inequities outside the classroom. Recess must be protected for all children, ensuring that every student, regardless of background, has time to recharge and thrive.

    A Call to Action

    Recess is not an “extra.” It is a vital component of whole-child education. If we are serious about preparing students to succeed academically, socially, and emotionally, we must make recess a non-negotiable part of every school day.

    As educators, leaders, and advocates, we must challenge policies and practices that diminish the value of play and fight for systems that understand that learning and wellness are intertwined.

  • Low NAEP Scores Aren’t Just About COVID—They’re the Legacy of the Testing Industrial Complex

    By Dr. Melvin J. Brown

    Today’s release of the 2024 NAEP (National Assessment of Educational Progress, best known as the Nation’s Report Card) reveals what many of us feared: U.S. high school students—particularly seniors—have hit record lows.

    • Reading scores are the lowest since testing began in 1992.
    • Math scores are the lowest since 2005.
    • Barely 35% of 12th graders are proficient in reading, and only 22–33% in math.
    • Nearly half of seniors now score below the “basic” level—a threshold designed to represent foundational skills.

    These numbers aren’t just about pandemic-related learning loss. COVID may have accelerated the decline, but the slide began decades ago. Today’s results are the predictable consequences of a system built not around deeper learning, but around measurement, categorization, and competition.

    Where Did We Go Wrong? The Roots of the Testing Machine

    The genesis of the concern can be found in the late-1980s through early-2000s, when we embraced a standardized-testing culture fueled by political agendas, industry lobbying, and big-box educational “solutions.” The crescendo came with the No Child Left Behind Act (NCLB) in 2001, which fundamentally reshaped public education around accountability metrics.

    1. Teaching to the Test Became the Curriculum

    Instead of expanding knowledge, classrooms contracted. Students received less science, social studies, art, music, and recess—all in service to test preparation. Creativity and curiosity were casualties of a system obsessed with multiple-choice proficiency. Critical thinking and the benefits of learning from failure fell by the wayside in favor of shallow analysis and superficial reasoning coupled with pressure to demonstrate understanding on a test and being correct the very first time.

    2. Schools Were Sorted, Ranked, and Shamed

    Politicians and policymakers designed accountability systems that didn’t just measure student learning—they sorted, labeled, and categorized entire schools and districts into neat boxes: “failing,” “needs improvement,” “excellent.”

    This framing devastated communities:

    • It stigmatized students in underresourced schools as somehow “less capable.”
    • It weaponized test scores to justify school closures and privatization, especially in low-income and majority-Black districts.
    • It diverted energy and resources away from addressing inequities—poverty, trauma, funding gaps—toward chasing labels created by people far removed from classrooms.

    When schools are reduced to numbers, our children are reduced with them.

    3. Accountability Metrics Over Learner Realities

    NCLB promised that every child would reach proficiency by 2014. But instead of addressing systemic inequities, policymakers doubled down on punitive measures for schools that “failed” to grow quickly enough. Many schools redirected time, funding, and talent away from enrichment and intervention into test prep drills, sacrificing real learning on the altar of compliance.

    4. Industry Profits Over Student Needs

    Testing firms, textbook publishers, and consulting giants flourished under this system. Standardized assessments became an industry, producing millions in profits while stripping schools of local autonomy. Politicians touted “data-driven decision-making,” but students—especially the most vulnerable—were left further behind.

    What Today’s NAEP Scores Really Show

    The new NAEP data reveal a widening chasm: while the highest-performing students have largely held steady, the lowest-performing students—often in schools hit hardest by inequity—are plummeting. This isn’t just a pandemic hangover. It’s the legacy of policies that prioritized categorization over capacity-building. One must be very suspicious as to the intended purpose.

    Students didn’t fail these tests; the system failed these students.

    The Path Forward: Reclaim Learning From the Testing Machine

    We can’t test our way to excellence. If we truly want to reverse this trend, we must dismantle the structures that put numbers over children:

    • End the Testing Industrial Complex: Replace relentless standardized testing with teacher-led, formative, and meaningful assessments that actually inform instruction.
    • Stop Ranking and Sorting Schools: Accountability should drive support, not stigma. We need systems that lift schools up, not label them for political gain.
    • Reinvest in Equity: Direct funds away from testing mandates and into literacy initiatives, arts programs, mental health supports, tutoring, and early intervention.
    • Redefine Success: Move beyond bubble sheets. Encourage deeper learning, critical thinking, project-based inquiry, and real-world problem solving.
    • Use NAEP as a Mirror, Not a Mallet: Let national data guide systemic supports—not shame, close, or punish the schools serving students who need the most.

    In Closing

    Today’s NAEP results are a sobering reminder that we’re living with the long-term consequences of political choices. The obsession with sorting, ranking, and labeling schools—and, by extension, children—has stripped joy, humanity, and creativity from classrooms.

    If we want students who are literate, curious, resilient, and prepared to lead, we need to rebuild a system that values learning over labeling. That means confronting the testing industrial complex head-on, prioritizing equity, and restoring public education to its true purpose: to nurture potential, not reduce it to a percentile.

    It’s time to stop categorizing schools as winners and losers—and start investing in every child’s capacity to thrive.

  • A Strong Start, But the Work Continues: Advocating for Opportunities for Every Child

    By Dr. Melvin J. Brown

    The start of a new school year always carries a sense of promise. Classrooms hum with energy, teachers bring renewed passion, and students arrive with dreams tucked into their backpacks. Across the country, schools are working tirelessly to create environments where students feel safe, supported, and inspired to learn.

    But a successful start is just the beginning.

    If we are truly committed to preparing our students for their futures, we must ensure that opportunity is not left to chance. Every child—regardless of their zip code, background, or circumstance—deserves access to the resources, experiences, and relationships that unlock their potential.

    The Momentum of a New Year

    A strong launch into the school year is the result of months of planning, collaboration, and dedication. Teachers, school leaders, and support staff come together to ensure students are welcomed into spaces where they feel seen and valued.

    We celebrate those efforts:

    • Innovative learning environments designed to engage and challenge students
    • Comprehensive supports to address academic, social, and emotional needs
    • Intentional partnerships with families and communities to strengthen trust and shared responsibility

    When schools start strong, they set the tone for what’s possible. But sustaining that energy requires something more than operational excellence—it requires advocacy.

    The Moral Imperative to Advocate

    Our responsibility as educators and leaders extends beyond the walls of our schools. We must actively advocate for policies, funding, and programs that give our students the opportunities they deserve.

    This means:

    • Championing equitable funding so that resources align with student needs
    • Expanding access to rigorous courses and career pathways to prepare students for a rapidly changing world
    • Investing in mental health and wellness supports to ensure students can thrive, not just survive
    • Engaging communities and policymakers to dismantle barriers that limit opportunity

    Advocacy isn’t optional—it’s a moral imperative. Without it, we risk reinforcing inequities instead of closing them.

    Keeping Kids at the Center

    At the heart of this work are our students—their dreams, their talents, their potential. When we advocate for better funding, stronger partnerships, or expanded opportunities, we are not fighting for abstract policies. We are fighting for children.

    Every decision we make should be filtered through one central question:

    “Does this create more possibilities for our kids?”

    If the answer is yes, we lean in. If the answer is no, we push harder.

    Moving Forward Together

    The first few weeks of the school year remind us of what’s possible when we work together with purpose and urgency. But we cannot stop here. Students need us to sustain this momentum—to ensure that their opportunities are not defined by where they live, who they are, or the resources around them.

    Success in education isn’t measured by a smooth start; it’s measured by the doors we open and the futures we shape. Together, let’s continue to advocate, innovate, and lead with conviction—because every child deserves a chance to thrive.

  • Teaching Truth in Tense Times: The Moral Work of Educators

    By Dr. Melvin J. Brown

    Introduction – The Radical Nature of Education

    As we begin yet another school year, we also begin another chapter in the evolving challenges that education has always faced throughout our history. Perhaps education has been such a political football because it can both enlighten and stifle. The power of knowledge for everyone is just as powerful as the power of ignorance can be for those who seek to take advantage. The current era in American public education is marked by intense polarization, widespread legislative intervention, and a cultural climate that places unprecedented pressures on educators. While each generation of teachers has faced political and societal challenges, this moment is distinct in its combination of digital amplification, ideological rigidity, and systemic distrust of educators.

    Historically, teaching has been a disruptive act because it empowers individuals to think independently and challenge inequitable structures. Paulo Freire (1970) famously argued in Pedagogy of the Oppressed that education is never neutral—it either functions as an instrument for liberation or as a means to domesticate and control. The examples from our history are stark:

    • Literacy bans for enslaved Africans were rooted in the recognition that knowledge could fuel resistance (Williams, 2005).
    • Federal assimilation policies in the late 19th and early 20th centuries used boarding schools to strip Indigenous children of language and cultural identity (Adams, 1995).
    • Black educators during Reconstruction and Jim Crow risked physical violence for teaching civic literacy (Anderson, 1988).

    These are not mere historical footnotes—they reveal an enduring truth: when education is used to tell the truth, it is met with resistance from those invested in maintaining inequity.

    The Political and Policy Landscape

    Public education has become a central arena in America’s culture wars. Local school board meetings have transformed into proxy battles for national political talking points, often driven by coordinated campaigns that target specific books, curricula, or programs.

    In Ohio, the campaign to remove Toni Morrison’s The Bluest Eye from schools is illustrative. Morrison’s work, celebrated for its literary depth and cultural significance, is being reframed as dangerous not because of explicit content but because it insists on grappling with racialized trauma, poverty, and systemic injustice. This mirrors tactics seen across the country, from Florida’s restrictions on AP African American Studies to Texas’s statewide book challenges.

    Legislative actions compound this climate:

    • Senate Bill 83 in Ohio, while targeted at higher education, signals a chilling effect on diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) initiatives that inevitably trickles down into K–12.
    • The introduction of HB 322 and HB 327—even without passage—created a “surveillance culture” in classrooms, where educators fear that honest discussion of race, history, or gender identity will provoke political backlash.
    • Nationally, we have witnessed Project 2025 and the dismantling the Department of Education, expanding voucher systems, and removing federal protections for marginalized students, echoing earlier attempts to restrict educational equity during the Reagan era and beyond (Ravitch, 2010).

    These legislative efforts are not accidental—they are part of a broader ideological framework that seeks to replace inquiry with acceptance, critical thinking with compliance.

    The Emotional, Professional, and Personal Cost

    Educators are absorbing a level of professional strain that research increasingly links to diminished student outcomes (Skaalvik & Skaalvik, 2017). Burnout, moral injury, and attrition are no longer abstract risks—they are daily realities.

    The concept of moral injury—borrowed from military psychology—describes the emotional and spiritual harm experienced when individuals are unable to act in alignment with their professional and ethical values (Santoro, 2018). In education, this often manifests when teachers are required to omit or distort truths, deny students representation, or prioritize compliance over meaningful learning.

    The long-term implications are alarming:

    • High teacher turnover disrupts instructional continuity and damages school culture (Ingersoll, 2001).
    • Attrition rates among early-career teachers are rising, and veteran teachers are retiring early—not because they’ve lost passion, but because they no longer have space to enact it (Carver-Thomas & Darling-Hammond, 2019).

    Historically, educators have endured hardship—from Depression-era salary deferrals to the civil rights struggles of the mid-20th century—but the sustained politicization of the profession today adds a dimension of chronic instability that threatens to redefine who enters, stays, and thrives in teaching.

    The Unshakeable Purpose – Why We Still Show Up

    The persistence of educators in such a climate cannot be understood solely as professional obligation. It is a moral and democratic imperative. As bell hooks (1994) argued, “Teaching is a political act.” It is about shaping not only knowledge but also the values and skills necessary for students to participate fully in civic life.

    We teach so that:

    • Students see themselves reflected in the narrative of this nation, not erased from it.
    • They develop the capacity to critique, reimagine, and rebuild systems.
    • They can dream—and believe those dreams are worth pursuing.

    In this sense, teaching is resistance. It resists narrow narratives, exclusionary policies, and deterministic visions of who gets to succeed.

    Courage as Endurance

    Media portrayals of courage often focus on grand gestures, but in education, courage frequently looks like steadfastness—continuing to show up, to speak truth, and to teach well despite hostile conditions. This “principled endurance” builds on a long lineage:

    • Teachers in Little Rock who remained when schools integrated.
    • Educators in Tucson who fought against the dismantling of Mexican American Studies.
    • LGBTQ+ educators who supported students even when they could not be fully open about their own identities.

    Legislation such as A Nation at Risk (1983) reframed education as a national security crisis, fueling decades of high-stakes accountability. While some reform efforts had merit, the unintended consequences—narrowing curricula, incentivizing teaching to the test—laid the groundwork for today’s battles over what counts as legitimate knowledge. Staying in the profession now means actively resisting reductive, exclusionary definitions of success.

    Opportunities in the Storm

    Periods of disruption have historically birthed some of the most innovative educational practices:

    • The Freedom Schools of the 1964 Mississippi Freedom Summer reframed education as community empowerment (Perlstein, 1990).
    • The Black Panther Party’s free breakfast programs linked nutrition, health, and learning, modeling holistic student support.
    • Restorative justice practices emerged as grassroots responses to punitive discipline, aiming to address root causes of harm rather than simply punish.

    Today, the seeds of transformation are visible in trauma-informed pedagogy, culturally sustaining curricula, and student-led advocacy for climate justice, racial equity, and LGBTQ+ rights. These movements are often teacher-led, grounded in the conviction that schools can be spaces of healing and empowerment.

    Conclusion – Holding the Line

    Educators are not simply implementers of curriculum—they are architects of possibility. In the words of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., “Intelligence plus character—that is the goal of true education.” The work is exhausting and contested, but it is essential.

    When policies shift and political noise fades, the legacy of truth-telling educators will endure—in the critical thinking, empathy, and agency of the students they served. The moral work of educators has always been to insist that every child’s story matters, that education is a right, and that truth is worth defending.

    References

    Adams, D. W. (1995). Education for extinction: American Indians and the boarding school experience, 1875–1928.University Press of Kansas.

    Anderson, J. D. (1988). The education of Blacks in the South, 1860–1935. University of North Carolina Press.

    Carver-Thomas, D., & Darling-Hammond, L. (2019). The trouble with teacher turnover: How teacher attrition affects students and schools. Learning Policy Institute.

    Freire, P. (1970). Pedagogy of the oppressed. Herder & Herder.

    hooks, b. (1994). Teaching to transgress: Education as the practice of freedom. Routledge.

    Ingersoll, R. M. (2001). Teacher turnover and teacher shortages: An organizational analysis. American Educational Research Journal, 38(3), 499–534.

    Ravitch, D. (2010). The death and life of the great American school system: How testing and choice are undermining education. Basic Books.

    Santoro, D. A. (2018). Demoralized: Why teachers leave the profession they love and how they can stay. Harvard Education Press.

    Skaalvik, E. M., & Skaalvik, S. (2017). Motivation and burnout in teachers: Relations and individual differences. Journal of Educational Psychology, 109(5), 782–797.

    Williams, H. A. (2005). Self-taught: African American education in slavery and freedom. University of North Carolina Press.