I had an epiphany recently. Maybe it wasn’t really an epiphany as much as the culmination of watching public education change over the course of my career. I’ve spent more than four decades working in education, human services, recreation, family engagement, prevention and intervention, and community-based programs. For most of that time, the conversations we had about education were centered on a fairly straightforward question: What do our kids need to succeed?

We didn’t always agree on the answer. In fact, we frequently disagreed. But the questions themselves were largely about children. How do we help students achieve academically? How do we close achievement gaps? What interventions work for a student who is falling behind? How do we differentiate instruction so that we aren’t teaching every child as though they learn in exactly the same way? How do we keep young people from becoming disconnected from school? How do we provide meaningful opportunities after school and during the summer? How do we address mental health? How do we prevent violence, substance abuse, chronic absenteeism, and school dropout? How do we engage parents as genuine partners in their children’s education? How do we make sure students feel safe, supported, challenged, and connected to their schools? Those were difficult conversations, and we certainly didn’t always get it right. But they were conversations about kids.

We Built Entire Fields Around Supporting Children

Think about how much education has evolved over the last 20 or 30 years. We learned that what happens outside the classroom directly affects what happens inside the classroom. That realization helped expand prevention and intervention programs, counseling, mental health services, expanded learning, community schools, restorative practices, college and career readiness, and family and community engagement.

Family engagement itself has grown tremendously as a field. We moved beyond the old idea that parent involvement meant showing up for Back-to-School Night, joining the PTA, or volunteering at a school carnival. We began asking deeper questions. Do families understand the educational system? Do they know how to advocate for their children? Do educators know how to build trusting relationships with families? Are we engaging families who historically haven’t had a seat at the table? Are schools creating environments where parents are partners rather than simply recipients of information?

That work matters. We have also learned much more about trauma, mental health, belonging, school climate, early literacy, chronic absenteeism, and the importance of connecting schools with community resources. These aren’t always the issues that make headlines or generate viral social media posts. But they are the issues that can change the trajectory of a child’s life.

And Then Something Changed

Increasingly, I find myself wondering whether we have allowed the focus of public education to shift. Instead of spending most of our collective energy discussing instruction, achievement, attendance, graduation, career readiness, mental health, family engagement, school safety, and student opportunity, education has increasingly become another battlefield in America’s political and cultural divisions.

Nationally, we are debating the future and role of the U.S. Department of Education. Here in California, we have debated and enacted significant changes to how education is governed at the state level. Across the country, communities are fighting over books and instructional materials. School boards have debated flags, parental notification policies, curriculum, race, history, gender, student privacy, parental rights, and identity. Issues that once occupied statehouses, Congress, cable news, and national political campaigns are increasingly finding their way directly into local school boardrooms.

To be clear, many of these issues involve legitimate questions of law, governance, parental authority, student rights, local control, and educational policy. They should not simply be dismissed because they are controversial. Parents have every right to ask questions about their children’s education. Students have rights. Educators have professional responsibilities. School boards have governance responsibilities. State and federal governments have legitimate roles in education.

But I keep coming back to another question: How much oxygen are these battles taking out of the room?

Meanwhile, the Kids Are Still Sitting in Our Classrooms

While adults fight, a third grader is still struggling to read. A middle school student is still chronically absent. A high school student is still trying to figure out whether college, the military, an apprenticeship, or a career technical education pathway is right for them. A teacher is still trying to differentiate instruction for 30 students with very different academic needs. A counselor is still helping a student experiencing anxiety, grief, or trauma. A family is still trying to understand an IEP. An English learner’s parents are still trying to navigate an educational system that can be confusing even when English is your first language.

A student experiencing homelessness is still wondering where they are going to sleep tonight. A child is still being bullied. Another child may not have reliable internet access at home. And somewhere, there is a young person who simply needs one caring adult at school to notice that something isn’t right. Those challenges don’t disappear because adults are arguing about politics. That’s the part I worry we are losing sight of.

Public education has always been political in the broadest sense. Decisions about funding, curriculum, accountability, civil rights, school boundaries, special education, language access, and educational opportunity have always involved public policy. I am not suggesting that we somehow remove policy debates from public education. That’s neither realistic nor necessarily desirable. What concerns me is when the political debate itself becomes more important than the educational outcome.

Governance requires the discipline to distinguish between what is important and what is simply loud. Not every national political battle needs to become the defining issue of a local school district, and not every disagreement needs to become a test of someone’s political identity.

Sometimes the most important work a school board, superintendent, principal, teacher, or community can do is much less exciting. Improve reading. Reduce absenteeism. Hire and retain great teachers. Support principals. Improve special education services. Strengthen school safety. Expand career pathways. Engage families. Improve graduation rates. Maintain facilities. Provide strong mental health supports. Spend taxpayer dollars responsibly. Make sure every student knows there is a place for them in our schools. None of those things will necessarily trend on social media. But they matter tremendously to children.

The Adult Agenda Versus the Student Agenda

Maybe that’s the distinction I’ve been searching for. There is an adult agenda, and there is a student agenda. Too often, the adult agenda asks who won the political argument, which side the board took, what statement was made, what flag is flying, which book is on a shelf, or which political constituency walked away satisfied. Those questions may matter deeply to the adults involved, but I wonder how often we stop and ask what the student sitting in the classroom needs from us.

The student agenda sounds very different. Can I read? Can I do math? Do I feel safe here? Does my teacher believe in me? Is there someone I can talk to when I’m struggling? Will I graduate? Am I prepared for college or a career? Does my family understand how to help me? Do I have opportunities regardless of my ZIP code, income, language, disability, race, background, or family circumstances? Those are the questions that should keep educational leaders awake at night.

Family and Community Engagement May Be Part of the Answer

This is also why I continue to believe so deeply in authentic family and community engagement. Family engagement should never belong to the political left or the political right. Parents shouldn’t have to agree politically to want excellent schools. Two parents can disagree profoundly about national politics and still sit at the same table and agree that they want their children to be safe, to learn, to have excellent teachers, to be prepared for life after high school, and to have someone notice when they are struggling. That common ground still exists. Sometimes I think we’ve simply forgotten how to look for it.

Authentic family engagement can help us rediscover that common ground because it requires us to listen rather than assume. It asks educators to build relationships with families rather than simply communicate at them. It asks families to become partners in improving schools rather than spectators in political battles. When we sit across the table from one another and start the conversation with, “What do our children need?”, the conversation changes.

Maybe We Need a Reset

Perhaps public education needs a reset. Not a reset where we ignore politics, policy, rights, or legitimate disagreements, but a reset where we remember our primary responsibility: children.

When an issue comes before us, perhaps our first question shouldn’t be, “What will my political side think?” Maybe it should be, “How will this improve outcomes for students?”

Will it help children learn? Will it help teachers teach? Will it make schools safer? Will it strengthen families? Will it create opportunities? Will it improve belonging? Will it prepare students for the world they will inherit? Those aren’t partisan questions. They are educational questions.

And if we cannot connect what we’re spending enormous amounts of time fighting about to better outcomes for students, perhaps we should at least be willing to ask whether we’ve allowed the adults to become the center of public education. Because they aren’t. The kids are!

Maybe one of the greatest challenges facing public education right now isn’t simply funding, curriculum, governance, politics, or another new initiative. Maybe it’s whether we can resist all the distractions long enough to remember why so many of us entered this work in the first place. After more than four decades of working with students, families, educators, and communities, I keep coming back to the same place.

Students first. Not politics first. Not adults first. Not ideology first. Students first! Everything else should follow.

About the Writer

Marcelino “Mars” Serna is an educator, community leader, engaged father, proud “Big Papa,” and husband with more than 40 years of experience serving children, families, and communities. His career has spanned education, human services, recreation, prevention and intervention, and family and community engagement. He currently serves as a Program Manager with the San Bernardino County Superintendent of Schools and as Vice President of the Fontana Unified School District Board of Education.

Throughout his career, Mars has worked to strengthen the connection between schools, families, and communities, with a particular emphasis on family engagement, leadership development, prevention and intervention, and creating opportunities for young people to thrive. But some of his most important roles exist outside of his professional titles—as a husband, an engaged father, a Big Papa, and a community member who believes deeply in giving back and serving others.

His reflections are shaped by both his professional experiences and the lessons he has learned from family, community, and more than four decades of working alongside students, parents, educators, and community leaders.

At the heart of his work and writing is a simple philosophy: Students first. Relationships matter. Strong schools are built in partnership with families and communities.