Public Education: Strategy Over Fear

Over time, public education has put down deep roots in the belief that every student—no matter their background, identity, or circumstances—deserves access to learning. This belief is foundational to who we are. But right now, that belief is under scrutiny. And as Dire Straits put it, “We have just one world, but we live in different ones.”

Schools have long been places where students don’t just absorb information but develop critical thinking skills, build empathy, and prepare to participate in our world.

Public education has always been about opportunity. About ensuring every student is prepared for the future, about building strong, informed communities.

That hasn’t changed.

Words like “equity,” “inclusion,” and “diversity” are being erased from policies, budgets, and mission statements. Schools are navigating increasing limitations on the materials they can offer students. Educators and school leaders are told to fall in line—or face consequences. Laws and restrictions are being passed that don’t just limit discussions but actively dismantle protections for LGBTQIA+ students, immigrant families, and historically marginalized communities.

And now, even spending district dollars with contractors that prioritize equity and inclusion is being called into question.

For those who have answered the call to education—believing in its power to shape the future—this moment is disheartening. Public education isn’t being attacked because it’s broken. It’s being attacked because it remains one of the greatest equalizers in our society.

But what is being underestimated is this: Changing words won’t erase the work.

Bravery in this moment isn’t always about making grand, defiant statements that invite retaliation. It’s about being strategic, relentless, and adaptable. It’s about doing the work anyway. It’s about what Brené Brown calls ‘the rumble’—staying in the discomfort, choosing courage over comfort every single day, and navigating the hard conversations with strategy and integrity.

So, how do we keep education moving forward when obstacles push it backward?

1. Shift the Language, Not the Mission

Restrictions that erase words like equity, inclusion, and diversity are only the first step. The more significant risk is that the work itself is halted.

But here’s the truth: We don’t need permission to keep showing up for our students.

The words change. The framing shifts. But the work remains the same.

👉 If one phrase becomes politically charged, we find another way to say what needs to be said.
👉 If a message is misrepresented, we bring it back to the simple truth: schools exist to serve every student who walks through their doors.
👉 If the conversation gets pulled into politics, we ground it back to what matters—student success.

This isn’t about playing semantics—it’s about making sure that essential work doesn’t get shut down just because a particular word has been co-opted and polarized. The work remains essential, no matter how the conversation shifts.

The difference? Our commitment to students remains unwavering.

2. Reframe the Narrative for the Audience That Matters

Many of these restrictions don’t serve students. Instead, they turn public education into a political talking point—designed to appeal to particular voting blocs while making public education the enemy.

But school communicators have power.

👉 We don’t have to play defense. Instead of reacting to bans, we can shape the conversation around student success.
👉 We don’t have to engage in culture wars. Instead of talking about DEI, we can talk about preparing students for their future.
👉 We don’t have to fight the narrative. Instead, we tell our own.

For many students and families, the consequences of these policies are dire—impacting safety, access to resources, and even their ability to remain in school. Immigrant students and families face real threats of deportation. Students face real threats to their safety and mental health. This isn’t an abstract fight. This is happening right now. Policies may change, but the story of public education is ours to tell.

3. Move the Work Into the Gaps

When education is restricted, the work moves.

👉 When curriculum is restricted, teachers integrate history through discussions, pr​​oject-based learning, and student-driven research.
👉 When training is defunded, professional development moves into community partnerships, mentorship, and after-hours spaces.

This isn’t about breaking the rules—it’s about refusing to let policy stop good work.

GOOD TROUBLE PR: WHEN THE WORK NEEDS TO MOVE, WE MOVE IT

When the late Congressman John Lewis spoke about getting into “good trouble,” he wasn’t talking about being reckless—he was talking about taking a stand, challenging injustice, and refusing to let fear win.

That’s precisely what MinnSPRA’s Good Trouble PR initiative is about: to help school communicators navigate politically charged landscapes while staying committed to ethical, student-centered messaging.

👉 It’s about knowing what can be said, what should be said, what must be said, when, and to whom.
👉 It’s about crafting messages that withstand bad-faith attacks and keep the focus where it belongs—on students.
👉 It’s about pushing forward strategically, not just reactively.

Because fear is loud—but courage is smarter. Policies may be limiting, but the impact on students remains in our hands.

4. Measure Success in Impact, Not Permission

Right now, success isn’t about policy change. It’s about ensuring students still get what they need despite restrictions.

What does success look like?

✅ A student feeling safe enough to be themselves in school.
✅ A librarian helping students find diverse and inclusive books.
✅ A school communicator finding a way to say what needs to be told without crossing a line that risks funding.
✅ A district always prioritizing student well-being, even as the official terminology shifts.

5. Refuse to Let Fear Win

Attacks on public education are moving us to the point of burnout. Right this minute, you are in the arena, navigating the impossible with courage, conviction, and compassion.

And let’s be honest: this is tiring work. It’s draining to constantly navigate restrictions, to find ways to do what’s right while being told you can’t, and to wake up every day knowing that the fight isn’t just continuing—it’s escalating.

But here’s what we know: We cannot care for our communities if we aren’t caring for ourselves.

That doesn’t mean pretending everything is fine. It doesn’t mean pushing through exhaustion until we collapse. It means recognizing that courage isn’t just about fighting—it’s also about sustaining.

HOW DO WE SUSTAIN OURSELVES IN THIS WORK?

👉 Find your people. The ones who remind you why you do this. The ones who make the impossible days survivable.
👉 Step back when you need to. Rest is not quitting. It’s what keeps you in the fight.
👉 Celebrate the small wins. Because the wins add up. They matter. They prove that progress is still happening, even when it feels like we’re standing still.
👉 Remember that the goal isn’t perfection—it’s persistence. We don’t have to have all the answers. We just have to keep going.

This work is exhausting because it’s worth it. Because it’s about students. Because it’s about the future. So take care of yourself. Protect your energy. Find your safe spaces.

And then? Keep going!

Attacks on public education rely on the idea that resistance is futile. That speaking up is too costly. That the fight is already lost. That the bans are working.

But that assumption is wrong.

Fear is loud. But courage is relentless.

We see you. We are witnesses to the work you’re doing. And we will keep showing up with you. Because as long as we keep showing up for students, for educators, for communities—progress will continue, and courage will have the final word.