Start Building the Schools Our Children Deserve

Black and brown children need great schools.  

They needed them throughout history, and they need them today.  

Access to great schools, across time and geography, has been punishingly rare.  

So it’s something of a surprise that there is discomfort in some circles whenever Black families and leaders discuss creating our own schools, programs, and pathways. They fear it’s a retreat into the past, a call for separation. It’s not. It’s a call for sovereignty, responsibility, self-determination, and love.  

And we’re done waiting.

Our children need and deserve schools that support them emotionally, challenge them intellectually, and protect them culturally and spiritually. Our children need educational spaces that reflect their identities and honor their potential. If our ancestors could create these spaces while dodging the literal fire of white supremacist violence, while rebuilding after mobs burned hundreds of Black schools to the ground across the country, what’s stopping us now?

Despite living in a country where trillions of dollars circulate, we often feel as if we’re powerless to build as communities. While today’s threats may not (always) come with torches, the attempt to burn down our institutions continues daily. It occurs in every budget proposal that underfunds our schools and every policy that hollows out our social institutions. Our response must be just as clear and courageous. We must build our own buffers, barriers, and bold alternatives.

I’m living proof that it’s possible. 

I learned to read on my cousin’s front porch. I learned to lead at Nidhamu Sasa, an African Freedom School.

That wasn’t school. But it was a community-based learning experience.

It’s time to reclaim and embrace the full continuum of education. See that learning is not just what happens in classrooms, but living rooms and porches and masjids and churches and community centers.

It didn’t come from nowhere; it came from my elders, community members, and parents demanding it. 

My mother once challenged the leadership of the masjid she attended: “You care about people’s souls, but what about our children’s literacy?” That confrontation birthed a pre-K program that was nurtured by stalwarts of our community. They were educators, yes, but more importantly, believers in the power of collective responsibility.

We’ve seen what’s possible. The Freedom Schools Literacy Academy model we created at the Center for Black Educator Development, for example, empowers college and high school students to take ownership of literacy for younger learners and therefore the future of their communities. A 10th grader helping a 3rd grader read isn’t just tutoring, that’s revolution.

Cuba offers another example of how communities can take learning into their own hands. A major factor in Cuba's becoming a literate society was its 1961 National Literacy Campaign, in which they deputized young people, more than half of them women, to spread literacy across every village. In one year, more than 100,000 young people taught 700,000 of their fellow citizens to read. It’s proof of how we all, including those who are not professional educators, can play a role in elevating the academic standing of our neighbors.

This isn’t about abandoning the fight for better public schools. That fight continues. But while we demand better, we must also build better.

That’s why, had he lived, I’m certain Malcolm X, whose 100th birthday we celebrated recently, would’ve launched schools through the Organization of Afro-American Unity. He would have done so as not to mimic any oppressive system, but to liberate our people from them.

Malcolm understood what too many of us still resist: we can’t outsource our children’s future to systems that were never designed for their success.

We don’t have to wait for approval. But we do need to organize like we believe our children’s futures depend on us. Because clearly they do. 

The next front porch reading circle is waiting. The next Malcolm is watching, yearning to learn, lead, and read.