Month: June 2025

By: Whitney McKinley 

Across the country and the globe, we’re witnessing moments that feel more like history repeating than a future unfolding: military vehicles in school parking lots, students afraid to attend graduation, immigrant families separated in broad daylight. At the same time, international conflicts escalate, images of war flood our feeds, and communities everywhere grapple with fear, division, and uncertainty. These aren’t distant stories from a textbook. This is the world our young people are navigating right now. 

And our collective response—as educators, caregivers, and community members matters more than ever. Because, in the most recent federal budget proposal, Full-Service Community Schools and Promise Neighborhoods are on the chopping block. Community schools are a blueprint for what democracy can look like when it is local, participatory, and human-centered. They integrate academics with health, social services, youth development, and community engagement. 

And we’ve seen it firsthand. In Minnesota, students at Ella Baker Global Studies and Humanities Magnet and Saint Anthony Middle School have just wrapped up their capstone projects, which are culminating exhibitions demonstrating what they learned and how they applied their knowledge. One student redesigned the school’s lunchroom logistics to reduce food waste and improve access. 

Another organized a community fundraiser to support families facing eviction. There were plans for preventive healthcare for students and even tackling 8th-grade disengagement with real-world applications. 

These were not isolated moments. They were the result of months of inquiry, collaboration, and the kind of learning that connects classroom content to real-world challenges. These projects aren’t just schoolwork stapled to poster boards. They’re living representations of what students care about and how they choose to act. Many of these efforts will continue into the summer and carry forward into high school and beyond, as they are rooted in real questions, real stakes, and real change. 

This kind of authentic learning happens because teachers choose differently. They moved away from rote instruction and toward interdisciplinary, student-led exploration. They created space for dialogue, reflection, and civic imagination. They trusted students with complexity, and in return, students showed up with clarity and purpose.

We know that democracy is not defended by tanks or tweets. It is defended every day by students asking better questions. By families showing up at school board meetings. By educators who teach not just content, but courage. To defund Full-Service Community Schools at this moment is not just shortsighted. It is dangerous. It hollows out one of the last remaining public spaces where trust, belonging, and collective action can still take root.

However, the hope in all this is that real and lasting shifts come from change that begins within communities, through seeing a multi-faceted system and doing what’s best for the greater good and progress of it. And no change in funding should hold us back from showing up in these spaces in a new way.

So why not volunteer in your classrooms, attend a school board meeting, learn more from your local teachers, and support student efforts to make positive changes in their communities?

Let it begin with all of us.

The path forward isn’t less complexity. It is more humanity. More connection. More courage.

World Savvy Statement on the Targeted Shootings of Minnesota Lawmakers 

World Savvy unequivocally condemns the targeted shootings that took the lives of Minnesota State Representative Melissa Hortman and her husband, Mark, and left State Senator John Hoffman and his wife, Yvette, seriously injured after being shot multiple times. These acts of political violence are horrifying and destabilizing—not only for those directly impacted, but for the democratic systems that support us all.

As investigations continue, we are reminded that this moment reflects a broader erosion of civil discourse. Public service, which should be honored and protected in a healthy democracy, is increasingly met with hostility and threat. Disagreement is too often answered with violence rather than dialogue.

We also recognize that these lawmakers were not only public leaders, but advocates for a stronger and more inclusive future for young people in Minnesota. Their service reflected a deep belief in the power of community and the importance of ensuring all voices are heard and valued.

World Savvy stands in solidarity with the victims and their families. We remain committed to ensuring that young people are prepared not only to understand the world as it is, but to lead us toward a more just, inclusive, and democratic future.

— World Savvy

We Can’t Protect Democracy if We Don’t Prepare the Next Generation to Defend It
By: Hamse Warfa

As military vehicles rolled through the streets of Los Angeles this week in response to sweeping federal immigration orders, the scene was jarring — and deeply telling. The use of the National Guard and U.S. Marines to manage civic protest, particularly around immigration policy, wasn’t just about crowd control. It was a signal. A reminder that dissent in America is increasingly met not with dialogue, but with force.

And as the nation debates the legality of these orders, another question looms: What are our schools doing to help young people understand and navigate moments like this?

For millions of students, especially those from immigrant families, this is not a theoretical civics lesson — it’s real life. It’s family life. And yet, the way we teach civics today often ignores the messiness of democracy in practice. We ask students to memorize amendments, but rarely explore how those rights are contested in real time. We teach about voting, but don’t prepare them to interrogate power or advocate for justice in their own communities.

At a recent panel I participated on education and complexity in New York, author Anand Giridharadas named this disconnect. “We sanitize the world for young people,” he said. “And then we wonder why they don’t know how to respond when things get complicated.” But complexity isn’t a bug in our system — it’s the defining feature of modern civic life. If we want young people to inherit democracy, they must be equipped to understand — and shape — it.

This means we need a new definition of readiness. Not just college- and career-ready. But democracy-ready. That includes the ability to analyze competing narratives, to collaborate across lines of difference, to ask hard questions, and to act with integrity and care. It means recognizing that civic education is not a single subject but a through line — embedded in science, art, history and math. It means creating classrooms where students wrestle with current events, not avoid them.

Too often, educators are told to steer clear of anything “controversial.” But what’s at stake now isn’t just comfort — it’s democracy’s health. Silence in the face of injustice isn’t neutrality. It’s complicity. And when schools go quiet in moments of political tension, students don’t feel safe — they feel abandoned.

What we saw in Los Angeles wasn’t just a policy flashpoint. It was a stress test for our democratic infrastructure. And our education system is part of that infrastructure. If it isn’t preparing students to engage with the world as it is — to question, to speak, to lead — then we are not just failing them. We are weakening the very foundation of our democracy.

This is the moment for bold investment and leadership. School systems must prioritize civic readiness as core to their mission — not an extracurricular or occasional theme. And those of us in the broader social sector — philanthropy, nonprofits, business and policy — must act as co-architects, not just supporters. That means shifting resources, rethinking outdated metrics and pushing back against the forces that aim to depoliticize public education for the sake of comfort or control.

Our democracy is being shaped right now — in statehouses, in streets and, yes, in classrooms. Whether our young people are ready to inherit it will depend on whether we choose to show up — not with platitudes, but with action.

We are long past the point of asking if civic education matters. The only question left is whether we will do what it takes to make it count.

Don’t Just Hand Them a Mic—Give Them a Seat
By: Chuck Khoury

Earlier this week, Bo Wright and I shared why this summer needs to mark a turning point in strategy and mindset. Today, I want to take that conversation further by focusing on the most powerful and overlooked lever we have for transformation: student agency.

When the U.S. recently announced new tariffs on Chinese electric vehicles and semiconductors, business leaders were reminded once again that we live in a world of constant, unpredictable interconnection. These weren’t just political moves—they were global tremors, reshaping supply chains and shifting the stakes for innovation and diplomacy. The lesson? In today’s world, relevance requires the ability to hold complexity, adapt in real time, and lead across differences.

And no one understands that better—or is more prepared to navigate it—than this generation of young people.

Yet the dominant narrative we’ve constructed about them tells a very different story.

Scan the headlines and you’ll see it: “The Most Anxious Generation Ever.” “A Crisis of Belonging.” “Stuck in Screens.” Over and over, these stories pile up—and in many ways, they’ve begun to solidify a dangerous perception in the minds of adults. One that paints young people as fragile, distracted, and disconnected. One that suggests we should manage them, rather than trust them.

We beg to differ.

The young people in our classrooms and communities are not a cautionary tale. They are a blueprint for what’s next.  Informed, digitally fluent, and attuned to identity, equity, and change, they’re not passively consuming the world. Young people today are shaping the world. And they’re doing so with more awareness and intentionality than many adults give them credit for.

And the pace of change they’re living through is unprecedented. A 2023 McKinsey report found that the rate of technological and social transformation over the past 20 years has outpaced the previous 100. Let that sink in. This generation has come of age in a world being rapidly rewritten by climate change, by artificial intelligence, by geopolitical instability, and by cultural flux. And yet we’re still asking them to learn inside a model built for the Industrial Age.

We are blocking their brilliance with outdated structures. And it’s costing all of us.

Earlier this week, my colleague Bo Wright reflected on the opportunity summer gives us to rethink what it truly means to be “prepared.” I want to build on that. Because the truth is, we’ll never prepare students for what’s ahead by keeping them at the margins of their education. The only path forward is to turn schools into communities—ones where students don’t just have a voice, but have power.

This is their education. Their future. They’ve evolved beyond being passive recipients of content, and our failure to evolve with them is a big part of why so many are disengaged.

The role of any educator has fundamentally changed. The mandate now is clear: build systems with students, not for them. For years, we’ve treated student voice like a side quest. We have reduced student voice to focus groups, a checkbox on a survey, or a panel at a conference. But that’s not leadership. That’s symbolism.

Don’t just hand them a mic. Give them a seat. Because when young people are co-designers of their learning environments, everything shifts. Engagement deepens, retention improves, and staff feel more energized and aligned. The whole system becomes more human, more responsive, and more sustainable.

Forget what came before. This is now. And no one understands now better than they do. They live on the cutting edge of culture and technology. They know how to build digital communities, how to source global perspectives, how to question, remix, and reimagine. If you’re looking for innovation—real, functional, future-ready innovation—start there.

Go back to the basics.
Get to know them.
Don’t invite student voice as a PR move.
Do it because it makes sense.
Do it because it works.
Do it authentically.

After years in this work that include countless initiatives, reforms, and cycles of “transformation”, I’ve learned that the most powerful shifts come when we stop underestimating young people and start listening and building beside them. 

They aren’t the problem. They’re the point.

Let’s stop talking about the future and start building it—with the people who are already living it.

By: Superintendent Bo Wright and Chuck Khoury

Each year as the school year closes and another begins to take shape, we find ourselves in a familiar rhythm: report cards filed, lockers cleaned out, and calendars already filled with deadlines for the next year. But this summer feels different. 

The world our students are growing up in is shifting fast. And while we’ve tried to keep up, we often find ourselves doubling down on what’s familiar. We adopt new instructional materials. We invest in professional development. We pilot the next promising program to boost outcomes in literacy or math. All of this matters. But too often, we skip over a more fundamental question: 

What exactly are we preparing students to do?

Not in theory. In practice. In the real, complex, beautiful lives they are living now. 

Beyond the Narrow Path 

For too long, readiness has been defined by test scores, GPAs, or college enrollment. We’ve encouraged students to walk a straight line through a system that often ignores the realities of the world they are stepping into— realities marked by economic uncertainty, climate stress, threats to safety, and belonging. 

Young people today need more than content. They need to understand how their learning links to their own purpose and to the problems and possibilities around them. They need confidence to navigate complexity and the capacity to lead through change.  

Education must be more than preparation for a job. It must be preparation for life: dynamic, unpredictable, and shared.  

Students Are Ready. Are We? 

At a recent gathering of students, educators, and community members in Geneva, New York, we asked young people what they wanted from their education. Their responses were direct and deeply insightful. They want more voice. More relevance. Access to internships and college credit. Classrooms led by teachers who listen and adapt. They want to feel like school matters to them, to their futures, and to the world around them. 

And perhaps the most striking of all? The adults in the room didn’t push back. They asked, listened, asked questions, and built on the students’ ideas. Everyone could see it: our education system needs to evolve.

That kind of alignment doesn’t show in a strategic plan or in annual goals. It comes from conversation, trust, and an openness to rethink how we have always done things. 

The Superintendent Role is Shifting

For decades, the job of the superintendent has been rooted in structure. Superintendents worry about building plans, meeting targets, and protecting continuity. Today, that is not enough. The role is changing. Our responsibility isn’t to manage a system. It’s to lead a transformation side-by-side with the community they serve.

Strategic plans, goals, and data dashboards are still useful, but they can’t be the centerpiece. Not when the ground beneath us is shifting so rapidly. What we need now is broader participation. We need to be asking:

• What do students see that we don’t?
• What are families hoping for in their children’s future? What do they want us to hear?
• What kind of schools are our communities ready to help us build?

This Summer Is Critical 

This season isn’t about slowing down. Anyone in this work knows that’s a luxury we don’t have. But it is about being intentional. About choosing to focus our time and energy on what truly matters: deep listening, meaningful reflection, and bold, community-driven action.

And that includes how we engage with our communities. Authentic engagement isn’t a one-time focus group or a survey tucked into a newsletter. It’s an ongoing relationship—one that’s built on trust, reciprocity, and shared responsibility.

We saw what this could look like in Geneva. That gathering wasn’t the end of a conversation—it was the beginning of one. Students and families were clear about what they wanted. And now, the district is committed to looping back. To closing the feedback loop. To continuing those conversations in ways that are transparent, respectful, and enduring.

We’re making that commitment, too.

We’re building systems that center community voice. We’re practicing shared decision-making, not just input collection. We’re expecting all school staff—not just administrators or family liaisons—to engage with families as partners. And we’re backing that expectation with real resources—because family engagement is not a “nice to have.” It’s a prerequisite for student success.

We’re also rethinking how we communicate: making sure our outreach is inclusive and transparent—culturally and linguistically appropriate, timely, accessible, and clear. Because if families don’t feel seen, heard, and informed, we’re not doing our job.

This is what reimagining readiness looks like. Not just for students—but for systems.

This Is The Work

We are not preparing students for our future. We are preparing them for theirs. And while we can’t predict exactly what that future will hold, we can ensure they leave our schools equipped to lead with curiosity, empathy, adaptability, and courage.

This season doesn’t call for more hustle. It calls for alignment. For imagination. For leadership rooted in purpose and grounded in community. 

Let’s not waste it.