Perspective

I recently had an interesting conversation with someone who identifies as a middle-class White conservative. As we talked, they shared growing doubts about traditional financial institutions and government authority. They described watching corporate bailouts benefit the wealthy while ordinary people were left to struggle, and seeing government policies eat away at the value of their savings. These experiences had left them questioning: Is the system really designed to help people like me—or is it set up to work against my interests?

Listening to them, I couldn’t help but notice a parallel to what many Black families experience—but in education. I said, "Imagine if the distrust you feel toward the financial system extended into your child’s education. What if, for generations, your community believed that the education system was never built to help them succeed?" I invited them to picture their parents and grandparents sharing stories about how school wasn’t a place of opportunity, but a place where they were ignored, mistreated, or actively held back. "Now," I continued, "your child steps into a classroom each day carrying this same doubt, feeling deep down that the system isn’t really built for them. How do you think that would affect their ability to learn and succeed?"

I explained that this is exactly how many Black families feel. Their mistrust isn’t abstract—it’s rooted in generations of exclusion and unequal treatment. I shared how, during slavery, African Americans were denied the right to read or write, with brutal punishments, even death, for trying to gain literacy. "Even after emancipation," I said, "schools for Black children were grossly underfunded. And when segregation finally ended, many Black students still found themselves in poorly resourced schools, with few teachers and outdated materials."

The person nodded, and I continued, "This isn’t just history. These challenges persist today. Black students are still disproportionately disciplined, often receiving harsher punishments than their peers. Schools often have resource officers who make students feel policed, not supported. And teachers sometimes respond to behavioral struggles with punishment instead of care, often lacking the cultural understanding to help students effectively."

I paused for a moment and then added, "On top of that, imagine being in a classroom where the curriculum barely reflects your culture or history. If the stories you see in textbooks center European perspectives, how would you feel about your place in the world? Wouldn’t that make you feel unseen, undervalued?"

I also brought up the role of social media, saying, "Now, add the images these students see every day online—people who look like them being mistreated or even killed by police. Some of these kids have seen their own parents harassed by law enforcement. How can they trust the system when so much of what they witness suggests the opposite?"

At this point, I told them, "It’s a lot like your feelings about banks. Just as you might hesitate to trust a bank you believe is working against you, these students hesitate to fully invest in a school system they feel is indifferent—or even hostile—toward their success."

I could see them starting to connect the dots, so I pressed on. "And just like your skepticism toward banks might come from the 2008 financial crisis, Black communities have experienced generations of broken promises. When students feel their teachers don’t care, or when school feels more like a place of punishment than growth, they disengage. And that disengagement has consequences—they stop asking for help, they hesitate to speak up in class, and they lose confidence in their abilities. All of this significantly impacts their ability to learn and perform."

Before we wrapped up the conversation, I left them with a thought: "Just like cryptocurrency offers you an alternative to a financial system you no longer trust, imagine what education could look like if it were designed with Black parents and students in mind. What if schools worked to rebuild trust—by being transparent, fair, and genuinely invested in every student’s success?"

I finished by saying, "When students feel safe, valued, and supported, they engage fully with their education. That kind of engagement opens the door to real achievement. If we want every student to thrive, we have to start by addressing the root causes of mistrust—and that’s how we build a system that truly works for everyone."