What If This Shared Vision Became Education's Reality?

A Times 10 Editorial by Jeffrey Benson

educator, author & consultant

Today begins with my visit to a school.

This is a familiar rhythm in the ongoing effort to support educators in their mission to teach all children. Public schools, however, have rarely been equipped with the resources required to meet the complex and varied needs of every student. To fully realize such a vision would demand not just reform but a revolution in how we fund, value, and structure our education system.

Rather than initiating sweeping upheaval, the goal is to support progress—helping more students reach the finish line, often many years later, with a high school diploma in hand. Within the persistent limitations of budgets, staffing, and time, this work involves offering administrators and teachers practical tools, compelling stories, and a shared space to reflect, vent, and reenergize. These moments help educators push forward, doing a little bit better, a little bit longer.

For school administrators, each day presents impossible equations. They are tasked with balancing the infinite and often urgent needs of their student populations with the finite resources provided to them. At this chaotic intersection, decisions are rarely straightforward, and the outcomes can profoundly affect vulnerable students, overextend already burdened teachers, and sap the morale of entire staffs.

🔷 The issue is not just about what is available but also what is being lost. 

Conversations occasionally shift from short-term challenges to big-picture dreaming. Visions emerge of schools where teachers thrive under supportive conditions, and administrators no longer shoulder 60-hour workweeks just to stay afloat. Such schools do exist, often due to the presence of exceptional individuals whose talent, dedication, and a touch of magic create something remarkable. But as many say, not everyone has that magic. What, then, can transform the system?

One existing model is worth studying: elite private schools.

These institutions consistently prepare students for top-tier colleges and future leadership roles across industries. Their advantages are tangible: smaller class sizes, cutting-edge technology, beautifully maintained libraries, theaters, and athletic fields. Students travel internationally, network with prominent alumni and guests, and gain a wealth of opportunities beyond classroom learning.

In 2020, public schools averaged about $17,000 in per-pupil spending—a figure that covers not just instruction but also buses, meals, maintenance, and more. Meanwhile, the top 50 private high schools charged over $40,000 in tuition, not including their vast endowments and generous donor support. Even children raised with abundant personal resources benefit from institutions that invest more than double what public schools can afford.

This disparity in opportunity is glaring. And while private school students certainly face their own struggles—including intense pressure, mental health issues, and isolation—the breadth of educational and extracurricular resources available to them highlights a sobering truth: money matters.

The issue is not just about what is available, but also what is being lost.

School budgets in 36 states no longer keep up with rising costs. Districts are forced into painful decisions: laying off staff, increasing class sizes, and eliminating programs deemed non-essential. The result is a widening "opportunity gap," or as scholar Bettina Love describes it, a "harm gap"—the cumulative effect of chronic underfunding on students, educators, and communities.

🔷 Imagine if [administrators] publicly stood alongside their teachers and families, acknowledging that the mission of public education cannot be fulfilled under current financial conditions.

In some places like Massachusetts, teachers' unions have gone on illegal strikes after years without raises. These protests, while controversial, underscore the long-simmering frustration within the profession. For administrators, these moments are deeply personal. Many once stood beside their colleagues in the classroom and now must make tough calls that can strain old bonds and professional relationships.

The divide between faculty and administration can widen under the weight of these systemic pressures. Administrators can no longer join in staff room conversations to complain about the system. They are judged by their ability to balance tight budgets and enforce policies they may personally disagree with. Often isolated from former peers, they form new circles with fellow administrators equally overwhelmed by the responsibilities of keeping a school afloat with too few resources.

But what if those very administrators became catalysts for change?

Imagine if they publicly stood alongside their teachers and families, acknowledging that the mission of public education cannot be fulfilled under current financial conditions. Instead of serving as silent intermediaries for school boards and legislatures, they could voice a collective truth: "We support our staff. We support our students. We will share with the community what our current budget limitations mean for your children, and we will develop and advocate for the budget we truly need."

Such a stance would not be without risk. Jobs may be lost. But it could also momentarily unsettle a system that has come to expect compliance. In that pause, awareness could grow. Communities might begin to understand what their schools are truly up against. Parents might rally. Elected officials might listen. Other administrators might feel emboldened to speak up. Perhaps then...

While a full-scale revolution remains an idealistic dream, courage in smaller, consistent actions can lay its groundwork. Across the country, educators are working tirelessly. But effort alone cannot close the funding gap, nor can it erase the inequalities baked into the system.

Workshops continue, educators share their strategies, and school staff build greater compassion—for their students, each other, and themselves. These steps matter. They affirm that while the system may be flawed, the people within it remain its most vital force.

And if someone dares to ask how it all could truly change, there remains a vision worth sharing—idealistic, perhaps, but not impossible.

Jeffrey Benson is a 40-year educator, consultant, and author of Hacking School Discipline Together. See more of his work at jeffreybenson.org.