For example, as dramatic as the Trump administration’s demolition of the U.S. Department of Education feels — this simply delivers on a core, decades-old Republican Party , one the GOP only really suspended from 2000 to 2008. 

The administration’s sustained in government programs, society and schools is another of those throwback moves. It might feel new, it might feel unthinkable in a country like ours, one with an exceptional history of linguistic diversity — from German-language to Univisión and , to polyglot sports stars and and . But the current crusade against America’s many non-English languages is actually another atavistic revival of a longstanding conservative project. 

While this monolingual project has found periodic success in the past, the administration’s position occupies surprisingly unpopular turf in the present. from families of school-aged kids suggest that this move runs counter to Americans’ current views on multilingualism — particularly in U.S. schools. 

Polling and focus group data from I published at The Century Foundation suggest that Trump’s English-only agenda is unpopular. My co-authors and I conducted a half-dozen focus groups in English and in Spanish with 64 Latino families across California — and used the results to construct a survey that we administered to a diverse group of 1,000 families in the state. 

We found overwhelming family interest in bilingualism. Fully 94% of families that speak a non-English language at home said that it was “very” or “extremely” important that their child grow up speaking multiple languages. Perhaps more surprisingly, 55% of monolingual English-speaking families agreed. 

Bilingualism isn’t just popular as a value or a possible set of skills for children. Families we spoke with made it clear that they’re enthusiastic about enrolling their children in bilingual or dual language K–12 programs. Nearly two-thirds of families speaking a non-English language at home “strongly” agreed that it was helpful to have their children learning two languages at school, and another 30% “somewhat” agreed. 

Further, when we asked respondents to rank their interest in bilingual education programs on a scale of one to 10, their average rating was a 7.9. More than three-quarters of respondents ranked their interest in bilingual education at seven or higher. Latino families showed similar levels of interest, with 40% rating their interest in bilingual education as 10 out of 10. 

We focused on California families for this study because it, along with Massachusetts and Arizona, hosted a surge of English-only political crusading just a few decades ago. Around the turn of this century, conservatives fought to ban bilingual education and establish English as the “” in their and across the broader country. The organizations, like , carrying this “English-Only” banner were overt in linking their war on multilingualism to an anti-immigrant, anti-multicultural agenda. 

A few years earlier, while running for president in 1995, , “With all the divisive forces tearing at our country, we need the glue of language to help hold us together. If we want to ensure that all our children have the same opportunities in life, alternative language education should stop and English should be acknowledged once and for all as the official language of the United States.”

Many of these 1990s vintage, English-only policies have been by legislation or by voters in state referenda, but the Trump administration breathed new life into them in 2025. Last March, the president signed designating English as the official language of the United States and rescinding non-binding guidance on when federal agencies should provide services in multiple languages. In July, the administration released discouraging federal agencies from offering translation services and instructing them to “prioritize English.” 

If this feels negligible — a minor issue far too insignificant to be politically salient — consider that attacks on multilingualism are (inevitably) attacks on highly popular education programs like dual language immersion schools. The administration’s aggressive detention and deportation campaign is already reducing the daily linguistic diversity of U.S. schools by for of and English learners. 

Should it continue, will shrink the country’s multilingual student population. Not only are linguistically diverse English learners to , they’ve been buttressing school enrollment levels in . 

Put another way: our data indicate that Trump’s immigration agenda may somehow have even more room to fall as it erodes the multilingual vision of American society that people like. 

Many have soured on harsh detention policies that are , and/or law-abiding community members and . Opposition to these policies will only grow as the administration’s ugly treatment of immigrants begins harming the schools of more families — whatever languages they speak at home. 

For decades, ELs have been defined by what they lack, with schools focusing on their challenges. English-first policies reinforce the notion that ELs are problems to fix rather than students with valuable assets.

And yet, decades of research show that multilingualism is not a barrier, but a benefit. Students who speak more than one language develop stronger cognitive flexibility, better problem-solving skills and higher levels of academic achievement. Bilingual students also have and bring critical global skills our country needs. 

across the U.S. also proves that two-way, dual-language programs can not only narrow the academic gap, but in some instances fully close it. Longitudinal studies show that multilingual learners often outperform their English-only peers in math, literacy, and graduation rates once reclassified.

If multilingualism builds stronger students and communities, then schools must treat it as the asset it is. That means adopting curricula that support both language development and content learning, instead of watered down instruction. 

Rhode Island proves what can happen when schools invest in their EL community. the state experienced the largest percentage growth in its EL population, which now makes up. Instead of lowering expectations, state leaders changed how they approached curriculum and support by considering the needs of their EL population.

As a result, students who achieved English proficiency now meet or even outperform peers who are native English speakers on . According to the , in 2018 and 2019 ELs who had achieved higher English proficiency scores also earned higher ELA and math scores than their English-only peers. When provided with quality and opportunity, ELs don’t just catch up, they surpass expectations. 

California has seen similar outcomes, and with its upcoming opportunity to adopt new materials, the state could see even greater results. In California, are ELs and an another 910,000 have achieved English proficiency. That is one in three students who are either learning English or have successfully done so.

of students in California reveal that by eighth grade,  ELs who have mastered English outperformed their non-EL learning peers in math, attendance and other measures.

For the first time since 2014, California is adopting a new math curriculum and conducting a follow-up literacy materials adoption in the coming year. Leaders have the rare opportunity to demand materials that serve ELs from the outset, allowing these students to engage in complex texts and tasks. Instructional materials should support that and not treat them like an afterthought.

The English learner status is intended to be temporary. With high-quality materials providing intentional language support, students can grow. Unfortunately, shows that students who don’t reach English proficiency by eighth grade face negative consequences, such as being misidentified for special education. They have lower academic achievement and attendance numbers and have a greater risk of falling behind and off track completely for graduation. 

Contrary to perception, student outcomes improve when strong curricula are used consistently and effectively. Materials do not need to be “dumbed down” for English learners. Research and classroom experience shows that when materials are designed for them, they benefit all students in the classroom.

These students aren’t less capable, but the education system has failed them. This is why it is essential to provide schools with quality educational materials that support both language and content and value the assets and strengths of multilingualism. 

We cannot allow the push for English-only policies to overshadow the years of data and research around the power and potential of speaking more than one language. To do so is to deny opportunity to millions of students and to weaken our collective future. Multilingualism is one of America’s greatest strengths. Our schools and curricula should reflect that truth.

Kubes is the superintendent of Delhi Unified, a small district of five schools nestled in California’s Central Valley. , around 40% have been classified as English learners and speak a non-English language at home. 

Demographics like Delhi’s are relatively common in the Central Valley, whose agriculture economy has long depended on immigrants. Indeed, they’re reflective of California’s historical success attracting immigrants from a diverse range of cultures. This history is visible in the state’s K–12 system: there are in the U.S., and . 

And yet, the state hasn’t always embraced this diversity — or the immigration driving it — as a strength. In 1998, as a capstone to , voters passed , a referendum banning bilingual education for nearly all English-learning children in California. 

As Kubes notes, for kids. For nearly two decades, California schools stripped hundreds of thousands of linguistically diverse children of their emerging bilingual abilities. Worse yet, this was predictable: that bilingual and dual language immersion programs are the best models for these students to learn English and succeed academically. 

This can seem counterintuitive: Wouldn’t students learn English fastest in programs that taught only in English? But a drumbeat of studies — and the experience of — indicates that forcing young English learners into these sorts of “sink-or-swim” English-only lessons makes it difficult for them to understand academic instruction in English. Bilingual and dual language settings allow these students to begin learning English while deepening their abilities in their primary language, giving them opportunities to learn from classroom materials in both languages. 

When voters lifted the bilingual education ban in 2016, California’s political leaders embraced the change. Democratic Gov. Jerry Brown and State Superintendent of Public Instruction Tom Torlakson set ambitious new goals through their , pledging to have at least half of all California students enrolled in bilingual schools by 2030. And yet, in the ensuing nine years, the state has made only halting progress towards building a K–12 school system that aligns with that research-backed bilingual vision.

Ironically, when it comes to bilingual education, this deep blue coastal state could learn a lot from a conservative rival to the south. Texas , but serves them very differently. Indeed, , the state has required school districts with significant numbers of English learners to offer them bilingual education. In 2019, , overhauling its school funding formula to make it in school districts’ interest to shift their programming to align with the research on how English learners learn best. 

Like most states, Texas provides districts with a weighted funding boost to pay for language instruction for their English learner students. But for every English learner that districts enroll in the “gold standard” of bilingual education: dual language immersion programs. These bilingual schools teach in two languages, sometimes to integrated classrooms of English-learner and English-dominant students. 

Critically, the bill also provided funding bonuses for non-English learner students enrolled in dual language programs. This gives districts a fiscal incentive to commit to the model even after English learner students reach English proficiency and are reclassified as non-English learners. In addition, it sets out an incentive for Texas districts to create integrated dual language immersion programs that enroll equal shares of native English speakers and native speakers of the program’s other language — usually Spanish. 

Texas’ systemic bilingual investments have produced a very different English learner education landscape. Texas enrolls nearly 40% of its English learners in — twice the rate California does. 

Given the research consensus on the efficacy of bilingual and dual language programming for English learners, it’s perhaps unsurprising that this gap is producing . These students in Texas outperform their English learner counterparts in California on a number of metrics. For instance, in Texas they have consistently scored higher than California English learners in both and in every administration of the National Assessment for Educational Progress since 2011. Finally, achievement gaps between native English speakers and English learners are consistently smaller in the Lone Star State than in California.

States’ English learner policies are more important than ever now, as the Trump administration guts the federal Office of English Language Acquisition, which oversees hundreds of millions of dollars in federal funding earmarked for supporting those 5 million English learners. With funding cuts looming, the Elementary and Secondary Education Act’s Title III grants to support English learners’ language acquisition, states are likely to determine on their own the depth and breadth of their investment in the success of these students.

In California, local efforts like Delhi’s continue to push the state out of its failed English-only past. Delhi relaunched dual language immersion programs about a decade ago. Back then, the district “inherited a system that was not designed for all students to flourish,” Kubes said. So when he became superintendent in 2022, he moved to deepen Delhi’s commitment to those growing programs. 

District leaders conducted public discussions in Spanish and English to learn what families wanted — and to help families of English learners learn about the of developing their children’s home languages.

“What we offer,” said Gena Buchanan, principal at Delhi’s El Capitan Elementary, “is based on the needs of the community. It’s tailored to them. We used to have dual language immersion at just one site, but parents at the other schools started advocating for it, too.”

The shift is driving major changes for Delhi families. Over 50% of the district’s nearly 900 English learners are now enrolled in dual language. And long-time residents say that it’s reaffirming the value of their Spanish abilities. 

“It’s personal for me because I went to school here,” said Rosa Gonzalez, principal at Delhi’s Harmony Elementary and a former Delhi student during the state’s English-only era. She said that she put her own daughters in the district’s bilingual programs because of her experience losing her native fluency in Spanish. 

“I was struggling, as an adult, to communicate in Spanish,” she said, “even though that’s the language I had learned first when I was a kid. It was heartbreaking for me now to have to try to figure out how to speak to my grandparents, and I didn’t want my kids to have to go through that.”

But while local reforms like Delhi’s prove that California schools absolutely can deliver the language education models that research suggests work best, these efforts are definitionally limited in scope. In the near decade since relaunching bilingual education, California significant statewide policy changes to require districts to provide their communities with greater access to bilingual or dual language classrooms, nor has it provided substantial new resources to make it easier for districts to do so. State leaders have offered to seed several dozen new dual language programs, but have largely stopped touting the bilingual goals outlined in Global California 2030. 

While dual language immersion programs are uniquely beneficial for English-learning students, they can help all children become bilingual. Delhi parent Rosa Nuno brought her children to the United States when they were in kindergarten and fifth grade. She was eager for them to learn English, she said, but was also determined to maintain their connections to their native language and culture. 

“The more languages they learn, the better,” she said in Spanish. “And I want them to feel proud of their roots.” 

Meanwhile, Buchanan, the principal at El Capitan, is starting her own bilingual journey.

“I’m English-only,” she said, “but seeing the benefits of dual language, I’m telling my children to enroll my grandchildren in our program. I’m an incredible supporter of it now. All the parents at my school know that I’m trying to learn Spanish.”

She and 15 other students had started at the college that fall in the hopes of studying to become highly effective educators. Many of them planned to return to their rural communities after graduation to help fill a gaping teacher shortage. They were all recipients of full-tuition scholarships through the , a three-year, federally funded project meant to diversify and increase the number of teachers in Nebraska and Kansas.

What they learned that February afternoon has left many of them reeling and questioning what comes next: Abrupt federal cuts from the Trump administration — meant to root out ��෡��” practices — resulted in every one of them losing their scholarships, effective immediately. They’d be able to finish out the spring term, but as of May, the money would be gone. Of the 16 students, 14 are first-time freshmen, just beginning their higher education journeys.

“I knew we were going to get told something terrible, but I couldn’t put a stop to it,” said Vianey, who asked to be identified by her first name only because of concerns that speaking out in the media could have negative ramifications. “To me, this scholarship was my way out. It was my way to be something. To contradict all the odds that were placed on me,” she added as her voice broke and she began to cry.

“I’ve wanted to be a teacher my whole life. Now, with all of this happening, I don’t know if I can recover.”

Amanda Morales, associate professor at UNL and principal investigator on the RAÍCES project, said telling her group of undergraduate students about the funding cuts was “by far, one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.”

“When you see young people’s dreams just shattered in an instant because of something you said or this message you had to give, how do you bounce back from that?” she asked. “What is happening to these projects and these programs is unprecedented, and it is really inhumane. There’s no other word for it.”

RAÍCES, whose name is derived from a Spanish word meaning “roots,” was one of many teacher preparation programs that suddenly lost their funding when the Education Department canceled more than in grants. The programs, meant to increase the number of teachers in high-need and hard-to-staff schools, were accused by the department of discriminating against certain populations and embracing “divisive ideologies” which aligned with diversity, equity and inclusion and “social justice activism.”

Eight attorneys general have since filed alleging the cancellation of the congressionally approved grants was unlawful. On Monday, a federal judge ordered the administration to in those eight states, which don’t include Kansas or Nebraska. Three teacher prep programs have also filed  

The scholarship, whose name stands for Re-envisioning Action and Innovation through Community Collaborations for Equity across Systems, had been promised $3.9 million through a grant, which sought to train more highly effective educators. It was housed at UNL and Kansas State University, which were required to match at least 25% of the federal funding.

RAÍCES was designed to be a comprehensive program that addressed the intractable teacher shortage in rural areas from recruiting novices to retaining veterans. It began with a high school-based program called Youth Participatory Action Research, providing students with the opportunity to explore careers in the classroom and investigate problems affecting their own education and communities. A number of students who ultimately received the full undergraduate scholarships, including Vianey, were recruited from this program. 

It also included funding for graduate-level scholarships, mentoring for teachers and ongoing professional development — meant to help educators stay in the profession long term. 

On Feb. 10, at 8:55 p.m., Socorro Herrera, professor and executive director of Kansas State’s Center for Intercultural and Multilingual Advocacy and the project’s lead principal investigator, received an email with an attached letter from the Education Department, telling her the grant would be terminated because it “is inconsistent with, and no longer effectuates, Department priorities.” 

She was shocked. 

“My thought is,” she said, “it’s not ‘department priorities,’ but it is community priorities. It is state priorities. It is the priority of human beings who want to go back into those public schools in which they grew up to give back [and] to be the most highly qualified teacher they can be for all students — but also for students who are like them.”

Morales said the letter and “blanket termination” of all SEED grants “left all of us just reeling with no clarity, no support, no one to call. Even our program officers are inaccessible. We were just left in the lurch — left to just flounder and try to pick up the pieces of this shattered project.”

‘[The] teacher that I wish I had’

Vianey was born in Mexico and came to the U.S. as a toddler with her parents and three siblings. The family spent their first decade or so in Washington state, where Vianey attended school as an English language learner. Even as a kid, Vianey was aware of the shortfalls of her school’s program and the negative impact it had on her and her English learner classmates.

“I just want to be that teacher that I wish I had when I was growing up to others,” she said.

She noted it was particularly challenging to not have any teachers who looked like her or shared her life experiences. At the time, this made her feel like her dream of becoming an educator might not be attainable, a narrative she hopes to combat.

“It gives you a sense of belonging when you see somebody that looks like you in the classroom,” she added.

When Vianey was in high school she moved to Nebraska with her mom, where she attended Lincoln High School and participated in the youth action program, which allowed her to do research on English language programs in her state. Eventually this led her to the RAÍCES scholarship at UNL, where she’s studying secondary education for Spanish, in the hopes of eventually returning to her own high school. 

As of December 2024, Nebraska schools had about , meaning they were staffed by someone other than a fully qualified teacher or were left totally vacant. About half of districts that responded to the state’s request for data reported complete vacancies. 

At roughly the same time, Kansas had almost — an 8%  increase from the previous spring, according to the teacher licensure director for the Kansas State Department of Education.

Nationally there were almost according to the Learning Policy Institute’s most recent analysis, likely a significant undercount because only 30 states and Washington, D.C. publish such data. 

has shown that rural schools face distinct difficulties filling their teaching positions, and that teacher turnover is especially common in high-poverty rural schools. And hiring foreign language and bilingual education teachers is especially hard.

“The money, explicitly and intentionally, was about increasing the number of teachers in rural schools,” said Herrera. 

Vianey had acute ELL teacher shortages in her own district in mind when she decided to apply to RAÍCES. Getting accepted into the full scholarship program “meant everything” to her and to her parents, whose formal education ended after third grade. 

“[My mom] felt like she succeeded and she was finally being able to achieve what she came here to do, and that is to give us a better life,” said Vianey.

‘We’re not rolling over here’

Vianey is among the at least 70 high school students, 26 undergraduates and 40 master’s students across the two universities who have been impacted by the cuts, along with the almost 1,000 teachers in partnering districts who were receiving ongoing education and professional development.

The ripple effects are far-reaching, potentially impacting thousands of students whose chances of getting a highly qualified, fully certified teacher have now been diminished.

When the funding runs out this spring, Tiffaney Locke — a 42-year-old career changer who has spent the past 12 years working in community mental health — will be just two courses shy of her master’s degree. 

She said as a Black student in Kansas City schools, she was able to find success because of educators who believed in her. Her plan was to return to a similar school to be that teacher for kids who look like her. She quit her full-time job to complete what she thought would be a fully funded program and is now scared about what comes next but hopeful that her teaching career is still within reach.

While the population of the scholarship recipients is diverse, the only requirement for application was that students come from one of the six partner districts in Nebraska and Kansas, all identified as difficult to staff and, in most cases, rural. One of the districts they partnered with had almost 120 vacancies.

Of the 16 undergraduates at UNL who were supposed to receive full scholarships — including housing, meal plans and a laptop — one quarter identified as white and half identified as Hispanic or Latino, according to Morales. Three-quarters were first-generation college students and over half came from rural communities. They were all high-achieving high school students and 15 of the 16 had GPAs just over 3.5 in their first semester, well above the program’s 2.0 requirement.

“The fact that the government doesn’t think you’re worthy to be here is tragic,” Morales said.

Morales and Herrera are now scrambling to find external funding, making any attempt they can to keep the program alive, but “this may be the end of the road for many of [the students] because just loans and Pell grants wouldn’t be enough to see them through,” Herrera said.

These across-the-board cuts have also had a chilling effect, she said, making those at the university level scared to speak out for fear of retribution from the federal government. Their concern is not baseless: the Trump administration recently in funding from Columbia University and halted payment on in grants to the University of Maine system.

“Everybody’s in this silent mode, like ‘Don’t call attention to yourself, go under the radar, keep doing the work,’” she added.

But the leaders of RAÍCES aren’t done.

 “We’re not rolling over here,” said Morales. “We’re not tucking our tail and just saying, ‘OK, I guess this is just the way it is.’ We’re fighting on every front we possibly can and [are] continuing to fight up until the very last moment. I’m not giving up.”

And Vianey isn’t quitting either. She wants to send a clear message to the people who took away her scholarship: “It’s not going to stop us from achieving our dreams. We will find a way out … my purpose is to become a teacher — and I’m not going to stop until I’m able to.”

In 1953, Bárbara Flores entered kindergarten at Washington Elementary School in Madera, California, a small city in the Central Valley surrounded by farm fields. Her mother and grandmother had talked it up: You’re going to learn a lot. You’re going to like it. She believed them. A little girl who would one day become a teacher, Flores was excited.

But only until she got there.

“I walked out,” Flores recalled recently. She got to her grandmother’s house a few blocks away, furious. “Son mentirosas,” she said. “No entiendo nada. Y jamas voy a regresar.” You’re liars. I don’t understand anything. And I’m never going back.

Flores only spoke Spanish. As the grandchild of Mexican immigrants, she didn’t find her language or culture welcome in the school. But little Bárbara didn’t get her way. And, after depositing her daughter back in the classroom, Flores’ mother asked the teacher a question: Aren’t you paying attention? My daughter walked out. The answer felt like a slap and became a part of family lore. All these little Mexican girls look alike. I didn’t notice.

Flores returned to her old school this fall; the building she walked out of still stands, but almost everything else has changed. Now students speak Spanish because their teachers require them to. Little Mexican girls see their culture celebrated on the walls of every classroom.

Washington students will graduate knowing how to speak, read and write in both Spanish and English, joining a growing number of “dual-language immersion” schools in California. Flores’ eyes open wide as she describes the about-face her alma mater has taken.

“We were punished for speaking Spanish,” she said. “We were hit with rulers, pinched, our braids were pulled. Now the whole school is dual-language.”

The path has not been linear. When Flores was a child, California still had an English-only law on the books from the 1800s. As governor, Ronald Reagan signed a bill eliminating it. Then the Civil Rights Movement ushered in a new era of bilingual education, and the California Legislature went further, requiring the model for students still learning English from 1976 until the anti-immigrant backlash of the 1990s. Voters banned it again in 1998, only reversing the latest prohibition in 2016.

Researchers have found bilingual education helps students learn English faster and can boost their standardized test scores, increase graduation rates, better prepare them for college and much more. California has removed the official barriers to offering this type of instruction since 2016, and the state now champions bilingualism and biliteracy, encouraging all students to strive for both. But eight years after repeal, California schools have yet to recover. A decades-long enrollment slump in bilingual-teacher prep programs has led to a decimated teacher pipeline. And underinvestment by the Legislature, paired with a hamstrung state Education Department, has limited the pace of bilingual education’s comeback. 

The result? A rare case in which Californians can say Texas is inspiring. Both states enroll more than 1 million students still learning English — but last year, the Lone Star State put 40% of them in bilingual classrooms. California managed that for just 10%.

In 1987, Flores didn’t think state policy would go this way. At the time, both states required bilingual education. She was a professor, helping build a bilingual-education teacher prep program at Cal State San Bernardino. Her home state could have kept pace with Texas.

But it didn’t.

The English-only years: 1998 to 2016

By 1998, the bilingual-teacher prep program was flourishing. Flores helped aspiring teachers understand how students learn to read and write in two languages, sending them off into classrooms with binders full of instructional tips. Her daughter, then 10, was learning both English and Spanish through bilingual classes in the San Bernardino City Unified School District. Flores was on a parent committee organizing broader support for such programs in the face of a statewide campaign to get rid of them, bankrolled by Silicon Valley entrepreneur Ron Unz.

Proposition 227, which passed with 61% of the vote, required schools to teach only in English with students who were still learning the language, something that may sound like a good idea but often ends up unnecessarily putting students’ grade-level learning of other subjects on pause while they master English. Flores saw the impact immediately. Faculty on campus called for the elimination of her program, an effort that ultimately failed but showed, she said, “the intensity of the discrimination and language racism that was prevalent.” Enrollment in bilingual-teacher prep programs across the state plummeted.

Flores also watched local school districts respond. “I was shocked at superintendents in the area,” she said. “They just made everybody throw away their Spanish books. It was horrendous.” As she recalls, every single school district in the Inland Empire got rid of its bilingual programs except San Bernardino City Unified, where parent activism helped ensure the district took advantage of an exception to the new law.

Dual-language students outperform their peers in San Bernardino City Unified

At the time, student achievement data from San Bernardino City Unified had shown that bilingual programs were helping kids succeed. And over the next two decades, researchers studying programs across the United States released a steady stream of evidence about the benefits of bilingual education, especially a version called “dual language.” Traditional bilingual education essentially lets students use their first language while they learn English. Once students become fluent, their schools shift entirely to English instruction, which was the goal all along. Dual-language programs, by contrast, set bilingualism as the goal. Students continue to take courses in Spanish or another language for about half of the school day until they leave the program.

While dual-language programs often stop after elementary school, the “” stretches through students’ K-12 years and into their working lives. Dual-language students have been found to score higher than their peers on both  and exams by middle school. They also get higher scores  in high school, setting them up to be more competitive in college admissions. And importantly, a team at Stanford found that native Spanish speakers were more likely to test out of English-learner services , a coveted goal because of how well “former English learners” do. University of Chicago researchers just released data showing that Chicago high schoolers in this group had  GPAs and SAT scores, high school graduation rates, and community college enrollment and persistence rates.

Patricia Gándara co-directs the UCLA Civil Rights Project, which has published similar findings, and has spent decades of her career cataloging the bilingual advantage. She laments the narrow value placed on bilingual education in the U.S., where it has historically been pursued as a way to help kids who don’t speak English learn the language more quickly and then succeed in English-only classes.

“That’s a very shortsighted view,” Gándara said, “particularly from the research that we’ve done that shows kids who get a strong bilingual education are more likely to go to college, they’re more likely to complete college, they’re more likely to have better jobs and better opportunities.”

Yet while policymakers didn’t catch on right away, well-off and well-educated white parents did, seeing the economic benefits of bilingualism for their children very clearly.

Glendale Unified School District launched its first Spanish-English dual-language program in 2003, going on to add programs in six other languages while official state policy was to ban them. Last year, 85% of the students enrolled were fluent English speakers, according to program director Nancy Hong.

Immigrant families, weighed down by the pressure to speak English and make sure their children do too, have been hard to recruit. Hong said immigrant parents have long been concerned that letting their children spend half the school day or more hearing their home language will get in the way of learning English, even though research has shown it can make the whole process go faster. “The goal is to dismantle those myths and misperceptions,” she said. But even though about 20% of students districtwide are English learners, only about 10% of them are in dual-language programs.

Many immigrant families, however, have become strong advocates for the programs. José Sanjas, a Mexican-born father in Madera Unified School District, takes his 6-year-old daughter past her neighborhood school every day en route to one of the district’s dual-language programs. He and his wife want to preserve their native language as their daughter grows up here, but the draw isn’t only personal; Sanjas also sees how bilingualism will benefit his daughter in the workplace.

“She can help more people in the future,” Sanjas said. “Professionally, she’ll be able to serve everyone.”

Spurred on by support like his, a diverse coalition of school leaders in Madera Unified had, by 2016, come to see dual-language education as key to turning around the district’s chronically low performance, especially among the children of immigrants. Flores had helped make the case, inviting school board members to the annual conference of the California Association for Bilingual Education. And in Flores’ hometown, U.S.-born, white families were among those speaking up in support of the programs, knowing even if the immigrant students’ test scores had the most room to grow, their children could benefit too.

Statewide, public opinion had swung in the other direction; that November, about 74% of California voters said yes to Proposition 58, officially allowing bilingual education back in California classrooms.

“It was a relief we [could] finally move forward for our children,” Flores said. “We lost a whole generation of kids — quite a few generations, really — because of English-only.” 

The next generation, however, is still waiting.

A limping recovery: 2016 to 2024

Flores spent 40 years training future teachers before retiring in 2019. Across three institutions and 32 years at Cal State San Bernardino, she likely taught 10,000 students, many of whom remain sprinkled throughout the state’s bilingual-education system. But if anything defines the legacy of Prop. 227, it is the shattered teacher pipeline it left in its wake.

Gándara, of the UCLA Civil Rights Project, said the current state of affairs is “one of those stories of ‘I told you so.’ … I could see what the problem was going to be: that when people came back to their senses and realized what a mistake this was, the big fallout was going to be that we didn’t have the teachers.” 

California colleges are not producing nearly enough teachers to meet the state’s bilingual-education goals. During the 2022-23 school year, the state commission on teacher credentialing only authorized 1,011 new bilingual teachers — . Only seven went to teachers who speak Vietnamese, the  in California schools that year. And it actually gave out fewer credentials to Spanish-speaking teachers that year than in the three years prior.

The Legislature has not ignored this problem entirely. In 2017, it funded six grants, totaling $20 million, to help districts coach up bilingual staffers and prepare them to lead bilingual classrooms. But Edgar Lampkin, CEO of the California Association for Bilingual Education, said seeding such “grow your own” programs falls far short of addressing the statewide need. “That’s not systemic,” he said.

In 2022, the National Resource Center for Asian Languages, based at Cal State Fullerton, got state money to train 200 teachers over five years. They’re on track, and the center’s director, Natalie Tran, is proud that their programs are not only increasing the number of teachers certified to teach in Asian languages, but also diversifying the languages they speak. She expects to certify teachers who speak Tagalog, Hmong and Khmer this school year. Still, she said, the state needs to do more to train additional teachers of Asian languages, including the less common ones. “We’re going to need help from policymakers to make this happen,” Tran said.

She isn’t the only one calling on lawmakers to be part of the solution. Anya Hurwitz is executive director of SEAL, a nonprofit that got its start as an initiative of the Sobrato Family Foundation to address achievement gaps between immigrant and native-born children in Silicon Valley. She says the state underfunds education, which gets in the way of doing what’s best for kids who don’t speak English.

In 2022, the last year for which  is available, New York spent almost $30,000 per student. California spent about $17,000. And besides its support for teacher training, the Legislature has only given districts  extra to start or expand dual-language programs. In Massachusetts, home to about one-tenth the number of kids still learning English, the Legislature disbursed $11.8 million for the same work, kicking off its own recovery from an English-only law.

“Funding is not the solution to everything in and of itself,” Hurwitz said, “but at the same time, we can’t build capacity without funding and resources.”

Back in Flores’ hometown, Madera administrators have been able to use state and federal money earmarked for their sizable number of immigrant families and those living in poverty to achieve their dual-language goals. But startup costs for dual-language programs are expensive. Teacher preparation programs, Superintendent Todd Lile said, are not producing graduates who are ready to do this work, leaving districts like his with steep professional development costs.

A residency program with Cal State Fresno has given Madera a solid pipeline of teachers, but the recent grads have to clear all the usual hurdles of being new to the profession while also adapting to using Spanish in the classroom. While these new hires at Washington Elementary School grew up bilingual, they went to school through the Prop. 227 years, meaning most of them didn’t develop an academic vocabulary in Spanish.

Viviana Valerio, a kindergarten teacher, said that history made bilingual education an intimidating proposition. “I commonly speak Spanish at home, but then when I was thinking about teaching, I was thinking, ‘OK, academic terms, I don’t know how to translate that,’ or ‘Parents ask me a question and I can’t think of it, I’m going to want to transition into English,’” she said. “For me, that was the scary part.”

Texas, too, lacks bilingual-education teachers, echoing a shortage present in much of the country, but the state is far ahead of California; many districts are able to recruit their own alumni because their programs have been around so long. Texas also continues to invest in bilingual education, helping districts comply with state mandates to offer it. Like California, Texas gives districts more per-pupil funding for every student still learning English; unlike California, Texas offers an additional premium for each of them enrolled in a dual-language program.

As an extra incentive to start and maintain these programs, Texas has started bumping up funding for the native English speakers enrolled too. Research shows the programs work better when classes are evenly split between native English speakers and speakers of the program’s second language. Then, not only are students learning their second language from the teacher but from their peers as well. Conveniently, this also makes for more integrated classrooms, something Gándara said California needs.

“We haven’t been able to take advantage of that, in large part because people don’t pay attention to that as a major issue and also because we don’t have the teachers to pull it off,” Gándara said.

Indeed, districts across the state cite staffing as a major barrier to starting or expanding their programs. Some have gone abroad to recruit. Others have been forced to scrap their plans entirely. Newark Unified School District, in the Bay Area, got rid of its dual-language program this year because it couldn’t find teachers to staff it. “We tried everything,” said Karen Allard, assistant superintendent of education services.

For more than a decade now, the state’s Education Department has tried to champion bilingual programs. Students who can prove their fluency in two languages before graduation get a special seal on their diplomas. The department also implores schools to help the children of immigrants maintain their home language while learning English, building that recommendation into its 2017 . By 2030, it wants half of California students on a path to .

Yet all of this largely amounts to cheerleading. The department is , a result of the state’s commitment to sending almost all K-12 funding directly to school districts, and its support for bilingual education has not come with any firm demands.

Conor Williams, a senior fellow at The Century Foundation, a progressive think tank based in Washington, D.C., recently found himself — a self-described “professional lefty” — in the surprising position of . Besides following Texas’ lead on funding, he said, California should rethink teacher licensing. The state requires college graduates to pass a suite of tests to become teachers, but Williams points out the tests don’t lead to better instruction and can keep good teachers from classrooms. Getting rid of the requirement could bring more bilingual adults into the profession and expand the teacher pipeline.

Hard to overcome, however, is California’s shift toward more local control over schooling. Williams doesn’t always agree with what the Texas education department does with its power, but the state’s centralized approach means it has “enough power and muscle and will to set rules and hold districts to them,” he said. California’s  is widely popular and has ensured districts get more state money to serve students still learning English as well as those in foster care and low-income households. But, Williams points out, local control has its limits.

“You don’t win civil rights battles by leaving it up to local school boards,” he said.

Still, districts like Madera are moving ahead on their own. In 2020, Flores’ alma mater, Washington Elementary, became Madera Unified’s second dual-language school, welcoming its first class of kindergartners who are expected to leave proficient in both English and Spanish.

Mateo Diaz Zanjas was one of them. He’s now a fourth-grader and speaks in easy Spanish about the school and his long-term dream of going to Harvard. Upon hearing that he and his peers speak very good Spanish, he eagerly replies: “We also speak good English.” And he proves it, going on to answer questions in English about his favorite subjects and the languages he speaks with certain friends.

Administrators, however, are still waiting for the data to show that their bet on bilingual education will pay off in student achievement gains. The pandemic interrupted their early years and set them back, and the oldest students aren’t doing as well as district leaders would have hoped. Commitment to the programs, however, has not waivered. Students’ overall test scores remain low, but their growth scores — or how much they learn over the course of the year — are high.

The district is helping students learn English more quickly, too, meaning they are becoming “former English learners” faster with the newer supports and joining the district’s highest-performing student group.

In the meantime, Madera teachers are using bilingual education to give Spanish speakers grade-level material, knowing that once they sharpen their English skills, all that information will transfer.

“Kids can learn math in Spanish; it’s still math,” Lile said. “They can learn social studies in Spanish; it’s still history and geography. These subject matters don’t exist only in English.” 

During Flores’ recent visit to Madera Unified, she heard Lile describe his long-term goals for the district, including higher graduation rates and better college readiness for the children of immigrants. She looked on proudly, sure her hometown district was finally getting it right.

An uncertain future: 2024 and beyond

A few years ago, Flores introduced Lile to Margarita Machado-Casas, a professor at San Diego State’s Department of Dual Language and English Learner Education, which has long been a top producer of the state’s bilingual teachers. Machado-Casas is helping the district figure out what concrete steps teachers and administrators should take to follow the high-level recommendations of the state’s English Learner Roadmap. They started out with “Principle 1,” which asks school and district staffers to see immigrant students’ language and culture as assets rather than seeing their lack of English proficiency as a deficit. Pointing to Madera’s long and painful history of discriminating against immigrant students, including Flores, Machado-Casas said this principle unexpectedly took the entire first year, requiring “courageous conversations” — including asking staffers to think deeply about whether they believed in the work enough to stay in the district.

Machado-Casas is helping educators in Madera understand both how to help immigrant students tackle grade-level material and convince them that the students can handle it.

Flores hopes the work ends up being a playbook for the entire state — which could soon need one. Gov. Gavin Newsom signed  this year requiring the Education Department to come up with a statewide plan for helping districts adopt the road map’s guidelines and report on their progress.

This planning process guarantees California will be over a decade into its recovery from the English-only years before the state even considers holding schools accountable for changing their practices. When New York passed a blueprint for how to serve English learners in 2014, it followed it up with new state regulations that same year, creating stricter policies for serving students who were still learning English, including a broader mandate for bilingual education, which had already been required for decades.

Alesha Moreno-Ramirez leads the California Education Department’s multilingual support division. She said state budget limitations have gotten in the way of implementing the English Learner Roadmap and said any call to require bilingual education like Texas or New York would have to come from the Legislature, not the department. “That said, we would enthusiastically support the movement toward requiring bilingual education,” she added.

Advocates caution such a mandate would have to come with enough funding to help districts create high-quality programs, but many agree it would be a win for California students. Children from immigrant families speak , according to the Education Department, but 93% of them speak one of 10. To require bilingual programs, the Legislature would likely tweak the current law, which says if the parents of 30 or more students in a single school request a language acquisition program, the school has to offer it “to the extent possible.” Texas, Illinois and New York have similar laws, but instead of requiring bilingual programs in response to parent advocacy, they do so based solely on enrollment.

Flores thinks the state is at least moving in the right direction. And Madera Unified gives her hope. During her recent visit, she was flooded with memories: She saw the tree she and her friends used to circle while playing “Ring Around the Rosie.” She visited the classroom she walked out of as a 5-year-old, where the walls are now decorated with vocabulary in Spanish as well as English. She suffered in that room 70 years ago. Now, little Mexican girls do not.

“We don’t stop,” she said. “We keep plugging away. That’s our tenacity. That’s our grit. And our motivation, of course, is for our children.”

This was originally published on .

“I’m teaching in a neighborhood that I grew up in,” said Lee. “I’m really a part of this community, like, I have more of an obligation as an educator to really serve the individuals that I’m working with. I think that’s what connected me with families more so it helped me be more involved with other curriculums around the school.” 

This matches the campus mission. Camino Nuevo — “New Way” in English — is a school tailored to its diverse, polyglot community’s needs, but it’s probably better understood with the operational arrow inverted: This is a school that exemplifies and expresses that community and its aspirations.

Its Burlington campus, in Central Los Angeles, is just west of downtown in a vibrant, plural area bursting with linguistic and cultural assets. Lee, a child of , grew up nearby speaking Spanish, English, and (some) Cantonese. The large majority of Camino Nuevo students identify as Latino and come from families where Spanish and/other non-English languages are spoken. 

Perhaps it’s no surprise, then, that Burlington — the flagship campus of Camino Nuevo’s LA charter schools network — would host a pioneering response to California’s persistent shortage of bilingual teachers. After all, Camino Nuevo-Burlington served as a  during California’s 18 years of mandating English-only instruction. Only a small number of schools were able to secure waivers from the policy and keep bilingual education’s fire burning in the state. 

When that mandate was lifted in 2016, schools across the state began the arduous task of returning non-English languages to their campuses. Or, put better, they started working on bringing those languages to the front of classrooms — the linguistic diversity of California’s students had persisted through its decades as an English-only state. In 2023,  spoke a non-English language at home, and the number is much higher . 

At Burlington,  are currently classified as English learners — and that number does not include former English learners who have reached proficiency in English but also speak other, non-English languages. 

Despite this abundant multilingualism, California schools and districts have struggled to regrow their bilingual programs in the past eight years. Asked why they’re struggling to overhaul their English-only classrooms, school leaders here almost universally raise the same challenge : they can’t find enough bilingual teachers. 

Compared to California’s students, . Just 27 percent of California teachers speak a non-English language at home. Over 60 percent of California teachers are white, compared to just 22 percent of California students. 

“Post-pandemic, we realized that we had to do something about this because we had teachers leaving and there were no new teachers coming in,” says Camino Nuevo leader Adriana Abich. 

How can this be? , of all places, to build a bilingual teaching force that reflects the burgeoning linguistic diversity of its student population? 

Above all, it’s because teacher training pipelines and state credentials — in  and in most states — are inflexible, expensive, and largely designed for monolingual teacher candidates. 

“In California, there’s so many layers to becoming a teacher, [particularly] a lot of testing” says Camino Nuevo principal Juliana Santos. “We’ve lost some wonderful, high-quality teachers because they couldn’t pass those tests.”

To get , young adults first need to complete a bachelor’s degree, in a state where  at four-year public colleges and universities, and room and board charges add thousands more. Most candidates then need to enroll in  to get their preliminary teaching license — which often adds tens of thousands of dollars more in cost. 

Teacher candidates must also complete  of student teaching and pass a battery of tests (in English) covering everything from knowledge of the U.S. Constitution to subject matter expertise and pedagogical methods. Further, to be eligible to teach in bilingual classrooms, candidates also need a , which requires extra coursework and successful passage of additional language exams. 

These various requirements often serve as diversity filters, blocking bilingual teacher candidates who cannot easily pay for years of coursework, multiple testing fees, and many months of unpaid student teaching. Even those bilingual candidates who are able to clear these financial obstacles may be filtered out by the necessity of passing multiple teacher credentialing assessments in English — even though there is overwhelming demand for their abilities to work and teach in Spanish or another non-English language. 

Perhaps worst of all, there is little research suggesting that these credential requirements reliably produce higher quality instruction — in English-only or bilingual classrooms — let alone better academic outcomes for students.

Since it couldn’t find the teachers it wanted post-pandemic, Camino Nuevo decided to train its own. Last fall, it partnered with a handful of local schools and Loyola Marymount University’s (LMU) School of Education to launch , with three dedicated residency pathways: bilingual, English-only, and special education.  

“Basically, it’s a program to disrupt the typical approach [to teacher preparation], where you don’t get paid for work. You sit side by side with a master teacher and you learn as a student teacher,” Abich says. “My main thought was, ‘How do we make it work for people of color? How do we make it so that, number one, people are getting a living wage when they come and do a residency with us?’” 

To that end, AVANCE residents’ daily work counts towards their required student teaching hours. Unlike most student teachers, they receive a salary — along with tuition stipends and payments to cover testing fees  — for a   of nearly $50,000. In return, residents work with students alongside  at one of the participating schools’ campuses (their mentors also receive a stipend for their participation). 

While , the University provides scholarships that reduce costs by roughly half — and AVANCE provides an additional scholarship that brings the total cost down to $8,000 (or $10,000, if they are seeking a special education credential). State-sponsored scholarship programs for teachers can further reduce costs, provided that residents go on to spend at least four years in the classroom once they earn their teaching credential. 

During their residency year, AVANCE participants take coursework both online and in person as a cohort, studying trauma-informed pedagogy and weekly coaching sessions to give them practical guidance for their specific roles — in bilingual education and/or special education. “These are our way of saying, ‘this is the reality of the theory you’re hearing about in your classes,” Abich says. “This is the real stuff.” 

To ensure that candidates can get over the state’s testing hurdles for teacher credentials, AVANCE residents also receive free test preparation materials through a partnership with . 

As it launches its second year, it appears that the program’s blend of support and flexibility is meeting its goals. Across the first two cohorts, 97 percent of AVANCE residents identified as BIPOC. Nearly 70 percent of the first cohort are already leveraging their language abilities to launch careers as lead teachers in Camino Nuevo’s bilingual classrooms, and another 24 percent are on track to take on lead roles once they complete their final credential requirements.

In a state starving for bilingual teachers, high-support, low-cost residencies like AVANCE could be a policy camino worth exploring. The key, Abich thinks, is to design these programs with teacher candidates’ specific strengths and challenges in mind. 

In Camino Nuevo’s case, she says, “We were focused on our community. We wanted people from the community to be in those teacher roles.”

The El Salvadorian mother of three, who primarily speaks Spanish, struggled to communicate with teachers, administrators and district leaders. She made repeated requests for the interpretation services that she — and all public school parents who don’t speak English fluently — are legally entitled to.

In most of her exchanges with the school, Rodas said she wasn’t even offered access to a phone translation service. If she ever needed to inform them of something like an absence or a kid running late, she had to rely on her older son to translate. 

This reached a fever pitch in the fall of 2022, when Rodas’s daughter, then a 5th grader in South Kansas City, told her mom that two kids at school “were touching her inappropriately in her private parts.” When Rodas contacted the school to report this, they initially provided her with a phone interpreter, she said, but as the situation escalated over the next few months, communication dwindled.

At a meeting with district leaders to discuss the assault allegation and the attacks on her daughter that Rodas said took place afterward, the mom said she was denied any school-provided interpretation services.

“I felt powerless, not being able to say what I wanted to say, how I wanted to say it, in the manner and moment that I wanted to say it,” Rodas said in a translated interview with The 74. “And it also made me feel bad. There were a lot of times that I felt … if I was not like them — because I can’t speak the language — that I didn’t belong there. I felt ignored.”

Rodas’s experiences are not unique, according to interviews with over a dozen parents, advocates, lawyers and academic experts, along with a review of national data. Parents and families who speak a language other than English are frequently denied access to communication from their child’s school in their primary language, often turning to Google translate, their own kid or a bilingual staff member who isn’t a trained interpreter for issues as simple as their child being absent for a day or as complex and intimidating as a special education meeting or a school disciplinary hearing.

All of this can lead to a breakdown in trust between families and schools and harmful consequences for students — and it’s happening all the time in districts across the country, advocates say.

“It’s such a prevalent issue that everybody knows about it,” said Nancy Leon, director of the D.C.-based immigration advocacy organization — Many Languages, One Voice. “It’s unspoken. It’s expected. So sometimes it’s something parents don’t even bring up to us because it just happens so frequently.”

It’s challenging to pin down just how widespread the problem is because a number of parents don’t know that they’re legally entitled to these services, advocates say, and those who do know their rights are often afraid to report violations or unaware of how to tackle that process. Others still may feel embarrassed to request the services, viewing their status as shameful or a burden.

Another Missouri mom told The 74 that she marked on enrollment papers that she needed an interpreter, but then when her son got hurt at school one day, was put on the phone with someone whose Spanish was so poor that she just told them to speak to her in English.

One measure of the extent of the problem is the number of times children are called on to interpret for their parents at school. Tricia McGhee, director of communications at Midwest-based said they put that question to kids when the advocacy group is doing programming with Spanish-speaking families.

When they ask, “‘Have you ever been [an] interpreter for your mom?’ They all raise their hand,” she said. “Every last one of them.’”

Countless examples

This year marks the 60th anniversary of The Civil Rights Act, which granted families the legal right to interpretation and translation services from public K-12 schools under Title VI.

Unlike for and interpreters, there is no national certification for education interpreters, though one is in the works, according to Ana Soler, chairperson at the This leaves those in education largely unregulated, which means that even when parents do get an interpreter, they might not have sufficient training or expertise. And, they’re frequently accessed through a phone service, described by some as “check-off-the-box” language access.

In 2023, the U.S. Department of Education’s Office for Civil Rights received about 3,500 complaint allegations raising Title VI issues. Of those, only were related to communication with parents who don’t speak English fluently. They ranged from a child in Colorado denied access to free and reduced-price lunch — and later fined — because of miscommunication to a Rhode Island district’s widespread use of untrained interpreters and translators. The previous year, there were even fewer communication-based complaints filed: just .

But experts, advocates and parents assert that these numbers represent a sliver of the problem.

“We have seen countless examples of schools not providing interpretation at meetings, of parents going to schools and being told that there isn’t anybody there who speaks their language and so they should come back at another time,” said Rita Rodriguez-Engberg, director of the Immigrant Students’ Rights Project at .

“Whenever we hear about an example in a school, we know that there are probably dozens of parents who have gone through the same thing at that school because we’re lucky enough to get the one parent to tell us about it,” she added. 

The legal standard: ‘A very tricky balance’

In 2021, just over of K-12 students nationally were English learners. In some states the percentage of children whose parents are not fluent in English can be even higher, ranging from 33% in California to nearly none in Montana, according to And in 2021, about of school-age children spoke a language other than English at home and about 4% also lived in “limited-English-speaking households.”

The 2023 , which surveyed 980 families, the vast majority of whom identified as Latino with kids who are English learners, reported almost 60% of parents being at least somewhat concerned about the lack of access to translation or interpretation services at school.

In January 2015, the departments of Justice and Education released outlining what these services should look like: Schools must communicate with parents in a language they understand and are prohibited from asking “the child, other students or untrained school staff to translate or interpret.”

Interpreters and translators must have knowledge of specialized terms in both languages and must be trained in the role, including the ethics of interpreting and translating. The document clearly establishes, “it is not sufficient for the staff merely to be bilingual.” 

It’s important that families understand “this is not a favor they’re doing for you,” said Soler. “They need to provide you with language access that is quality language access — not just anybody that speaks a little bit of one language so that they can fulfill their requirements.”

Despite their legal heft, these provisions are often misunderstood or flagrantly violated, experts and parents told The 74. And some argue the guidance doesn’t go far enough.

“Quite frankly, the verbiage is left up to interpretation,” said Revolución Educativa’s McGhee. “So if I were passing laws, I would be much more specific about the requirements.”

The standard is not completely clear when it comes to school staff who are multilingual serving as interpreters, said Paige Duggins-Clay, chief legal analyst at the Texas-based so “it’s a very tricky balance.” 

And when these rights are not sufficiently met — and parents are hobbled in their efforts to advocate for their children — the consequences can be deeply harmful to both students and families. 

“Having a really engaged caregiver is critically important to the success of any young person,” said Duggins-Clay, “but especially a young person who might be new to the school community or might be learning to speak English and integrating into the broader school community.”

Often schools and districts claim interpretation and translation services are expensive and budgets are tight or they don’t have access to certain languages locally, said Alejandra Vázquez Baur, a fellow at , a progressive think tank based in New York City. 

But, she said, these are all barriers that can be overcome. 

Schools have also increasingly struggled to recruit and retain bilingual educators, though Vázquez Baur, who is bilingual and a former teacher, again emphasized that merely speaking another language is not enough.

When she taught in Florida’s Miami-Dade County between 2017-19, she said she was frequently relied on to translate and interpret for families. 

At the time, Vázquez Baur said, “I did not realize that them calling me down for parent-teacher conferences for other teachers and calling parents for all the different things was against their right.”

Superintendents and school leaders across the country want to fulfill their legal obligation and communicate effectively with their parents, but are often thwarted by an “implementation gap,” according to John Malloy, the assistant executive director for the Learning Network at and a former superintendent in California.

The challenge comes from both pipeline and funding issues, he said: “There’s a lack of professionals to fulfill that [legal] obligation, and then there’s a lack of dollars to pay those professionals.”

The problem is endemic, he added, noting, “I think you’d be hard pressed to find a district — even in the face of our legal obligations — who isn’t struggling [with this].”

In order to combat it, Malloy said, schools will require increased state and federal funding. 

“Too often in my experience — whether we’re talking special education, whether we’re talking Title IX, whether we’re talking this important and legal requirement related to access — we’re stretching dollars in multiple ways,” the former superintendent of 15 years said. “And at the end of the day, we are expected to do something that we might not actually have the resources to provide no matter how hard we try.” 

Until then, school leaders will continue to rely on other strategies, such as family members or untrained bilingual staff, according to Malloy.

The school principal of a rural, low-income district in Eastern North Carolina told The 74 that he was able to hire a front office secretary who is both bilingual and a trained interpreter.

“But most people aren’t that lucky,” said Patrick Greene, who is in his 12th year as principal in Greene County Schools, a district of 2,700 students. 

Finding a trained, bilingual staff member was important to him because his student population is now about a third Latino, with only one designated interpreter for the entire district. Greene said he was forced to schedule “more official” meetings, such as disciplinary hearings, around that lone staffer’s schedule.

“He stays very busy,” he said.

All of the great details are just gone

Alejandra, who moved from Mexico to Missouri two decades ago, gave birth to her son Danny three years after that. Described by his mother as a bright, hyperactive kid, Danny was in third grade when he was badly injured on the monkey bars at school. 

Alejandra requested only her first name and her son’s nickname be used because she feared retaliation from her son’s school district.

After Danny walked himself to the nurse’s office that day — and after the initial interpreter spoke such poor Spanish that Alejandra told her to switch to English — it was the little boy himself who had to explain the fraught situation to his mom.

“It was very frustrating,” she added, “because they ended up using my child as the interpreter.” 

This experience was not new, nor has it changed in the years since. Alejandra said that in general, when her kids were in elementary school, the school would make an interpreter available, but only if she scheduled an appointment ahead of time. 

“In middle school, there are no interpreters. You have to bring your own person that will help you. And for high school? Definitely not.”

In general, even when interpretation has been provided, she described it as subpar and largely unhelpful, marked by translators who cross boundaries, interjecting their views into conversations in ways that she said were inappropriate and ultimately hurt her son.

“Oftentimes, what I’ve experienced is that when they’re part of the district, they insert themselves in the situation,” she said. “Their own bias comes in, they give their own opinions, and then they get in the way of the proper communication that should just be a bridge between one party and the other.”

It’s often in the face of these deficiencies that the student gets called on to translate. Not only is this a violation of the law, but also makes families feel disconnected from their schools and leads to an adultification of children, said Daysi Ximena Diaz-Strong, an assistant professor at the University of Chicago’s School of Social Work.

“It creates a kind of interesting family dynamic of parents wanting to support their kids, but having these sort of structural constraints, which then forces the kids to take on more responsibility within the home.”

She said as someone who grew up as an immigrant and took on these responsibilities herself, “It stays with you all the way through adulthood. You just know that you … are responsible for your family’s well-being and that you must take on that burden at any expense — including your own.”

Sometimes, students are even pulled to be translators for their peers, according to Hannah Liu, a policy analyst at the in D.C.

It’s not just an individual school issue, she said, “it’s a very widespread issue. And I think that’s something that’s been normalized in the immigrant child experience … We need to denormalize and say, ‘OK, actually, we are not supporting our kids enough.’”

McGhee, of Revolución Educativa, said unless translation is requested in advance, it’s typically not available and even when established advocacy groups like hers make the ask, often it’s still not provided. What happens then, she said, is administrators will pull in someone like a bilingual secretary to fill the gap.

“If the student is a middle schooler or above, they are doing all their own interpretation,” she said.

McGhee said she once sat in on an emotionally charged disciplinary hearing for an English learner facing expulsion. His mom didn’t speak English, so the school ultimately brought in a young, bilingual staff member who worked in the front office but had no training in interpretation. 

As the meeting intensified, the staff member grew increasingly emotional and began to cry. McGhee said she turned to her and offered to take over.

McGhee said she’s also witnessed meetings where bilingual staff members are burned out and frustrated after being repeatedly asked to do this work and therefore do the bare minimum. 

Christy Moreno, community advocacy and impact officer at Revolución Educativa and a trained language access provider, emphasized the harm that is done when this happens. Moreno interpreted the parent interviews for this article.

“Oftentimes what I see and what I experience and what I hear about is meetings where when the information is translated into their language of preference, it’s summarized,” she said. “So all of the great detail, all of the very important things that need to be taken into consideration when families are making decisions about the educational experience of their children, are just gone. And so they’re disenfranchised. Someone else is making decisions for them without their true input and ultimately that impacts their student, the child.”

She’s even seen cases in which legal documents, such as are translated using Google: “I’ve seen it many times, literally printed on the IEP where the top corner says ‘Translated by Google Translate.’”

“It’s not really a system that’s working,” said Rodriguez-Engberg, from Advocates for Children. “The problem is that there are resources and there is guidance and there’s definitely a little bit of oversight, it’s just that I’m not sure the schools are actually being held accountable.” 

Unlike federal laws that protect students with disabilities, she added, the enforcement mechanisms just aren’t very robust.

“I want people to know my story”

Wendy Rodas said her daughter was hospitalized in December 2022 as a result of being victimized in her Missouri school, and that her son was forced to translate a challenging conversation between his mother and the school principal about his younger sister’s traumatizing experiences.

Eventually, frustrated by the school’s lack of response, Rodas involved Child Protective Services and requested a meeting with the principal, superintendent and director of student services. She also requested an interpreter be present.

At this point, a skeptical Rodas also elicited outside help from Revolución Educativa. On the morning of the meeting, the interpreter she had requested from the school wasn’t there, she said. A staff member in the session tried unsuccessfully to access one on the phone. Finally, the Revolución Educativa advocate, a trained interpreter, stepped in.

For the first time, Rodas said, “I felt like I was finally able to say everything I wanted to say.” 

Rodas said she never saw the outcome of the investigation into what happened to her daughter. But in the year and a half since, the young girl has been healing through therapy and has transferred to another public school in the district, one that consistently offers translation through a phone interpreter, her mother said. This is better than nothing, but still feeling disconnected, Rodas continues to rely on outside services and volunteers. 

Rodas is hoping for change — ideally a bilingual staffer is assigned at each school to facilitate communication between educators and families. And while reliving her daughter’s story is painful, she said she shares it to encourage other non-English-speaking parents to fight and advocate for their kids.

“I want people to know my story so that they can know that if they have the courage … they can make change. I want people to have that courage so that they can speak up, so that they can go and find answers and say what they want to say. And I want them to know that it is possible to get effective communication — we just need to push and ask for it.”

“Hice mi proyecto”, corrige la profesora María Lomeli a través de un micrófono conectado a unos altavoces situados a un lado de los que se encuentran reunidos.

Es un comienzo tranquilo del 100º día de clase en la escuela Ronald Reagan Elementary del Distrito Escolar Unificado de Desert Sands, en Palm Desert, California. Lomeli lleva cinco años trabajando en el campus, y tiene el aula preparada para fomentar un ambiente tranquilo. Mientras los alumnos cuentan cómo se sienten ese día, los altavoces reproducen una suave música de piano acompañada de sonidos de la naturaleza: el canto de los pájaros y el susurro de las hojas.

Relajada, despreocupada y bilingüe —es notable, sobre todo en el contexto de la historia de la agitada política de enseñanza de idiomas de California. De 1998 a 2016, la pacífica clase bilingüe de Lomeli probablemente habría sido ilícita, enmarcada por presiones políticas y, sobre todo, .

Durante la mayor parte de los últimos treinta años, los defensores de la enseñanza exclusivamente en inglés emprendieron una dura batalla a fin de impedir que las escuelas ofrecieran educación bilingüe a los estudiantes que aprenden inglés (o EL, por sus siglas en inglés) del estado. En 1998, los activistas conservadores —— impusieron un mandato de enseñar únicamente en inglés en las escuelas estatales de Kínder a grado 12, argumentando que la educación bilingüe era ineficaz para promover el desarrollo lingüístico y académico de los estudiantes EL.

que el desarrollo de idiomas que no fueran el inglés en las escuelas separaba a los niños de sus compañeros con dominio del inglés y ralentizaba la integración de los niños inmigrantes en sus escuelas y en la sociedad en general. Jaime Escalante, el maestro de Los Ángeles cuyo trabajo inspiró la película Stand and Deliver, punto, sosteniendo que “las escuelas de California [se vieron] obligadas a utilizar la educación bilingüe a pesar de la oposición de los padres” en los años anteriores al mandato de enseñar solamente en inglés.

No obstante, los sobre el experimento de dar clases sólo en inglés en California fueron en gran medida. Por eso, en el año 2016, los votantes revocaron el mandato estatal que imponía enseñar exclusivamente en inglés. Desde entonces, las escuelas de California han empezado a reconstruir —— un nuevo sistema multilingüe de Kínder a grado 12. Esta vez, el estado está desarrollando una amplia variedad de programas bilingües —incluidos los populares modelos de inmersión en dos idiomas (o DLI, por sus siglas en inglés)— para atender a las diversas prioridades de las familias, independientemente de los idiomas que hablen en casa.

Tal vez la calma reinante en el aula de Lomeli se deba a ese cambio: las oportunidades de aprendizaje bilingüe se ofrecen ahora como una opción que las familias pueden elegir, y no como un mandato general. El educador profesional Daniel Salinero, en su cuarto año como maestro de primer grado en Reagan, así lo cree. “Una de las diferencias entre ahora y los años 90, cuando enseñaba en educación bilingüe”, dice, “es que entonces se les canalizaba de esa manera. Aquí, los padres quieren que su hijo esté en el programa”.

Hay buenas razones para que las familias elijan el DLI, una versión de la educación bilingüe en la que los estudiantes aprenden conceptos académicos en ambos idiomas y el dominio de ambas lenguas es un objetivo clave. que estos programas son la forma más eficaz de que las escuelas apoyen a los estudiantes EL, particularmente cuando son lingüísticamente equilibrados y cuentan con hablantes nativos de ambos idiomas. En California —— muchas familias que hablan predominantemente el inglés también se sienten atraídas por la posibilidad de educar a sus hijos de forma bilingüe.

Desert Sands lanzó sus programas DLI en 2019 como una forma de servir mejor a sus estudiantes que aprenden inglés, que representan . Mientras tanto, en Jackson Elementary, el otro programa DLI del distrito, que hablan español en casa.

El primer año fue difícil —algo normal en la implementación de cualquier programa educativo nuevo—, pero la pandemia drásticamente dificultó el trabajo de los maestros. “Me trasladé de una escuela donde enseñaba en cuarto y quinto grado a estudiantes hispanohablantes a [aquí], donde enseñaba Kínder a estudiantes no hispanohablantes que no tenían ni idea de lo que estaba diciendo”, cuenta Lomeli.  “Y luego tuvimos que cerrar y me tocó enseñar en línea y…”.

Lomeli deja de hablar. Salinero añade: “Se puso peor”.

Pero a medida que la pandemia fue remitiendo y las escuelas reabrieron, los programas DLI de Desert Sands fueron avanzando hacia su plena implementación, incorporando un grado más cada otoño. Los estudiantes de Kínder que inauguraron el programa en 2019 completarán sus años de escuela primaria como alumnos de quinto grado, cada vez más bilingües, a finales del curso 2024-25.

“Creo que también ha ayudado mucho el apoyo de los padres”, afirma Juan Gutiérrez, maestro de primer grado de Reagan. “Tenemos mucha suerte de contar con eso. Todos los padres están muy involucrados… Quieren que los niños estén en el programa. No es que la escuela elija a los estudiantes. Los padres están, como, activamente buscando el programa de dos idiomas para que sus hijos puedan llegar a ser bilingües y sepan leer y escribir en ambos idiomas”.

Los responsables de Desert Sands dicen que ésta es una de las virtudes del nuevo y floreciente momento en la educación bilingüe en California: da a las familias la oportunidad de optar por programas bilingües o DLI en función de la fuerza de los numerosos valores de estos programas. El distrito aspira a que los campus DLI sean diversos y equilibrados, con un tercio de los estudiantes que domine el español, un tercio que domine el inglés y un tercio que llegue a Kínder con competencias bilingües emergentes en ambos idiomas.

Este objetivo es alcanzable aquí, en el condado de Riverside, donde hablan una lengua distinta del inglés en casa. Además, el DLI funciona tal y como se prometió. que existe un verdadero potencial en presentar “la cultura y el idioma como activos para los niños y las familias, dos idiomas como mejores que uno y las competencias interculturales como necesarias para todos los estudiantes en una sociedad global del siglo XXI”. Al hacer de los programas bilingües una opción disponible para familias de orígenes lingüísticamente variados, en lugar de una asignación obligatoria, los líderes educativos estatales y locales han ampliado la base de apoyo político al bilingüismo.

Este enfoque está creando aulas tranquilas como la de Lomeli, pero también conlleva sus propios costos. El primero de ellos es que el profesorado bilingüe del estado se redujo considerablemente durante el periodo de enseñanza exclusivamente en inglés, y . Esto dificulta el rápido crecimiento de las aulas bilingües y DLI del estado. La consiguiente escasez de cupos bilingües plantea un reto: cuando los distritos hacen sitio para las familias con dominio del inglés en sus programas DLI, pueden reducir inadvertidamente el acceso de los estudiantes EL—y las oportunidades clave para desarrollar su incipiente bilingüismo.“Tenemos una población diversa”, señala Salinero, “tenemos hablantes nativos de español y hablantes nativos de inglés, y tienen diferentes necesidades e intercambian ideas entre sí”. Al aclarar las prioridades locales desde el principio en su e insistir en tratar el dominio del español y el dominio del inglés por igual como activos valiosos, el distrito está aprovechando el nuevo terreno que los votantes de California abrieron en 2016.

“Yo me siento muy feliz porque yo hace mi proyecto,” says a small blond third grader, sitting on the carpet (“I feel very happy because I does my project.”)

“Hice mi proyecto,” corrects teacher Maria Lomeli, speaking through a microphone linked to speakers set off to the side of the gathering (“I did my project”). 

It’s a calm start to the 100th day of school at Desert Sands Unified School District’s Ronald Reagan Elementary, in Palm Desert, California. It’s Lomeli’s fifth year working on campus, and she has the classroom set up to foster a tranquil atmosphere. As students share how they’re feeling that day, the speakers play gentle piano music overlaid with nature sounds—chirping birds and rustling leaves.

Relaxed, untroubled, and bilingual—it’s remarkable, particularly in the context of California’s history of roiling language education politics. From 1998 to 2016, Lomeli’s peaceful bilingual classroom would likely have been illicit, framed by political pressures, and—above all—.

For most of the past thirty years, English-only advocates waged a pitched battle to prevent schools from offering bilingual education to the state’s English learners (ELs). In 1998, conservative activists——imposed an English-only mandate on the state’s K–12 schools, arguing that bilingual education was ineffective at advancing ELs’ linguistic and academic development. 

that schools’ cultivation of non-English languages separated children from their English-dominant peers and slowed immigrant childrens’ integration into their schools and broader society. Jaime Escalante, the Los Angeles teacher whose work inspired the movie Stand and Deliver, , arguing that “California schools [were] forced to use bilingual education despite parental opposition” in the years before the English-only mandate.

Nonetheless, on California’s English-only experiment were largely . That’s why, in 2016, voters repealed the statewide mandate imposing English-only education. Since then, California schools have——begun to rebuild a new, multilingual K–12 system. This time, the state is growing a wide variety of bilingual programs—including popular dual language immersion (DLI) models—to appeal to a range of priorities from different families, regardless of the languages they speak at home.

Perhaps Lomeli’s classroom’s pervasive calm stems from that change—bilingual learning opportunities are now offered as an option for families to choose, rather than as a blanket mandate. Career educator Daniel Salinero, in his fourth year as a first grade teacher at Reagan, thinks so. “One of the differences between now and the ’90s, when I taught in bilingual ed,” he says, “Back then, they were kind of funneled that way. Here, the parents want their child in the program.”

There are good reasons for families to choose DLI, a version of bilingual education where students learn academic content in both languages and proficiency in both languages is a key goal. these programs are the most effective way for schools to support ELs—particularly when they are linguistically balanced, enrolling native speakers of both languages. In California——many English-dominant families are also attracted by the possibility of raising their children bilingually. 

Desert Sands launched its DLI programs in 2019 as a way to better serve its ELs—who make up . Meanwhile, at Jackson Elementary, the district’s other DLI program, who speak Spanish at home. 

The first year was rocky—standard issue for the implementation of any new educational program—but the pandemic dramatically raised the difficulty of teachers’ work. “I transferred from a school where I was teaching fourth- and fifth-grade to Spanish-speaking students to [here], where I was teaching kindergarten to non-Spanish speakers who had no clue what I was saying,” says Lomeli.  “And then we had to close and I had to teach online and…” 

She trails off. Salinero offers, “It got worse.” 

But as the pandemic wound down and campuses reopened, Desert Sands’ DLI programs moved towards full implementation, growing by one grade each fall. The kindergarteners who inaugurated the program in 2019 will round out their elementary school years as increasingly bilingual fifth-graders at the end of the 2024–25 year. 

“I think also what has helped a lot is the parental support,” says Reagan first-grade teacher Juan Gutierrez. “We’re very lucky to have that. All the parents are very invested…They want the kids to be in the program. It’s not like the students are being chosen by the school. The parents are, like, actively seeking the dual language program so their kids can become bilingual and biliterate.”

Desert Sands leaders say that this is one of the virtues of California’s new, burgeoning bilingual education moment: it gives families the chance to opt into bilingual or DLI programs on the strength of these programs’ many virtues. The district aims for diverse, balanced DLI campuses with one-third of students who are Spanish-dominant, one-third who are English-dominant, and one-third who arrive in kindergarten with emerging bilingual proficiencies in both languages. 

This is an achievable goal here, in Riverside County, where speak a non-English language at home. This is also DLI operating precisely as promised. , there is real potential in presenting “culture and language as assets for children and families, two languages as better than one, and cross-cultural competencies as necessary for all students in a 21st-century global society.” By making bilingual programs a choice available to families of linguistically varied backgrounds, rather than a mandatory assignment, state and local education leaders have broadened the base of political support for bilingualism. 

That approach is creating calm classrooms like Lomeli’s, but it also carries costs. Foremost among them: the state’s bilingual teaching force shrank considerably during its English-only period, and it has . This makes it difficult to rapidly regrow the state’s bilingual and DLI classrooms. The resulting scarcity of bilingual seats produces a challenge: when districts make room for English-dominant families in their DLI programs, they may inadvertently reduce English learners’ access—and key opportunities to develop their emerging bilingualism. 

“We have a diverse population,” says Salinero, “we have native Spanish-speakers and native English-speakers, and they have different needs and they bounce ideas off of each other.” By clarifying local priorities from the start in its and insisting on treating Spanish proficiency and English proficiency alike as valuable assets, the district is taking advantage of new terrain California voters opened up in 2016. 

English-learning students’ scores on a state test designed to measure their mastery of the language fell sharply and have stayed low since 2018 — a drop that bilingual educators say might have less to do with students’ skills and more with sweeping design changes and the automated computer scoring system that were introduced that year.

English learners who used to speak to a teacher at their school as part of the Texas English Language Proficiency Assessment System now sit in front of a computer and respond to prompts through a microphone. The Texas Education Agency uses software programmed to recognize and evaluate students’ speech.

Students’ scores dropped after the new test was introduced, a Texas Tribune analysis shows. In the previous four years, about half of all students in grades 4-12 who took the test got the highest score on the test’s speaking portion, which was required to be considered fully fluent in English. Since 2018, only about 10% of test takers have gotten the top score in speaking each year.

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Passing TELPAS is not a graduation requirement, but the test scores can impact students. Bilingual educators say students who don’t test out of TELPAS often have to remain longer in remedial English courses, which might limit their elective options and keep their teachers from recommending them for advanced courses that would help make them better candidates when they apply for college.

The way the state education agency currently tests English learners’ skills frustrates some educators who say many of their students are already fully capable of communicating in English but might be getting low marks in the test because of the design changes.

“You’re putting [students] in an artificial environment, which already reduces the ability of students to give you natural language,” said Jennifer Phillips, an educator with two decades of experience teaching bilingual students in Texas. “It’s a flawed system.”

TELPAS scores also account for 3% of the grades the TEA gives school districts and campuses in its A-F accountability rating system. Though they only represent a small portion of their rating, TELPAS scores might be more significant for school districts at a time when they have grown increasingly worried about how the state evaluates their performance. Several districts have sued TEA to block the release of the last two years of ratings, arguing that recent changes to the metrics made it harder to get a good rating and could make them more susceptible to state intervention.

TEA’s use of an automated scoring engine to score portions of TELPAS has also come under scrutiny after the agency used the same tool to evaluate short-answer and essay questions in this year’s State of Texas Assessments of Academic Readiness, the state’s standardized test that all students in grades 4-12 take to measure their understanding of core subjects. of using an automated system to score STAAR and list it as one of their complaints in the districts’ latest lawsuit against the state.

Testing English learners’ skills

When students enter a public school in Texas, they are classified as “emergent bilingual” if they indicate they speak a language other than English at home and fail a preliminary English assessment. About a quarter of Texas students have that designation.

Federal law requires Texas to assess English learners’ progress regularly. Texas is one of only a handful of states that developed its own test instead of using the exam used in other parts of the country.

Each spring, about a million emergent bilingual students in Texas public schools take the TELPAS exam, which consists of four parts: listening, reading, writing and speaking.

Before 2018, teachers with TELPAS training would administer the test at students’ schools. Listening and reading evaluations were, and still remain, multiple-choice sections measuring student comprehension. For writing, teachers would gather and assess a sample of students’ work in the classroom throughout the school year. For speaking, teachers would talk to students in one-on-one evaluations or fill out a rubric based on their observations of students’ English fluency throughout the year.

When the TEA moved the test online, it changed the testing environment and scoring method. The change sought to standardize the test and make the results more reliable, an agency spokesperson said. The automated scoring technology helped deliver speaking assessment results more quickly. Last year, the automated scoring system started evaluating students’ written responses.

In each of the four assessment categories, students get a score of beginner, intermediate, advanced or advanced high. Students have to continue taking the test each year until they score advanced high in at least three categories; they may score advanced in the other one and still pass. Before this year, students had to score advanced high in every domain.

Several bilingual educators the Tribune spoke with for this story said the low test scores students have received since the test was changed do not reflect their actual performance in the classroom, adding that many English learners communicate better than their scores suggest. While English-learning students’ scores have since 2021, the TELPAS scores — particularly in speaking — have remained low since the test was changed.

“It is a little disheartening,” said Ericka Dillon, director of bilingual education and English as a Second Language courses at Northside ISD in the San Antonio area. The district has about 14,500 emergent bilingual students, a significant number of whom are proficient in English but struggle to reach advanced high on the TELPAS assessment, she said.

“They’re doing the best that they can, but they still won’t be able to meet that criteria,” Dillon said.

In response to a Tribune data analysis showing that the average number of passing TELPAS scores in speaking dropped after TEA redesigned the test and introduced the automated scoring system, an agency spokesperson said, “It’s not uncommon to see performance adjustments when student performance is evaluated in a standardized manner across the state.” The spokesperson also noted that speaking and writing are by nature more challenging than listening and reading.

The TEA has vigorously defended its automated scoring engine, rejecting comparisons of the technology to artificial intelligence. The agency has said humans oversee and train the system as well as monitor its results. The TEA said a technical advisory council has approved the technology, and when the program encounters a student response that its training does not know how to handle, it directs it to a human to score.

This year, the TEA said that at least 25% of the TELPAS writing and speaking assessments were re-routed to a human scorer to check the program’s work. That number oscillated between 17% and 23% in the previous six years, according to public records obtained by the Tribune.

Score changes after human reviews

One of the reasons educators are skeptical of TELPAS’ automated system is how scores sometimes change when they ask for a review. Humans rescore speaking and writing assessments.

Last year, 9% of the TELPAS speaking assessments that TEA reviewed got a higher score; that number was 13% the year before. The automated system initially scored more than 95% of the assessments that improved after a second look, public records show.

Spring Branch ISD officials said the percentage of assessments that improved after requesting a rescore was even higher at their district. They sent more than 800 speaking assessments for rescoring in 2022, and more than a third got a better score after they were reviewed. The next year, about half of their submissions improved after rescoring, officials said.

“If the evidence from our rescoring submissions is any indication, the system leaves a lot to be desired for its accuracy,” said Keith Haffey, executive director of assessment and compliance at Spring Branch ISD.

It’s unclear how many assessments would lead to a better grade after a second look since most results go unchallenged. The number of rescored assessments each year is less than 1% of the total TELPAS tests administered. Educators say they have to weigh costs and time constraints when deciding whether to request a rescore. Reviews are free if they result in a better score; if they don’t, schools have to pay $50 per rescoring request.

In addition, educators say it’s not easy to decide which results to challenge because they haven’t had access to students’ audio responses. This contrasts with STAAR results: Written student responses are readily available online to districts.

“If we can’t hear how they did on TELPAS, we can’t say if this is where they really are or not,” Dillon said.

The TEA says district testing coordinators can request listening sessions, but some educators said the agency’s director of student assessments told them only parents can request the files. A TEA spokesperson said that person misspoke.

In response to district feedback, the TEA spokesperson said districts and parents will have easier access to all TELPAS responses starting in the 2024-25 school year.

Not an “accurate reflection”

Edith Treviño, known affectionately as Dr. ET, used to be the ESL specialist for the TEA’s education service center in Edinburg. Now she runs a private consulting practice helping students pass TELPAS.

Treviño said she worries that the automated scoring system penalizes students who are fluent in English but speak with an accent, mix in a few words from their native tongue or stray from using academic language.

“Children are not supposed to answer like regular people, according to TELPAS,” she said.

To score advanced high in the test’s speaking portion, students must respond to each prompt with answers that last 45 to 90 seconds. They have two chances to record a response and they need to use academic language fitting their grade level.

But Treviño said the prompts are often simple and do not require long answers. In a recent , she said some questions were like asking students to identify an orange.

Because passing TELPAS is not a graduation requirement and scores only account for a small portion of campus and district accountability ratings, some schools do not prioritize helping students prepare for the test. But the results can affect students’ educational journey.

Many school districts enroll English-learning students in ESL courses, which can prevent them from taking certain electives and advanced courses because of scheduling conflicts. Teachers or staff might also hesitate to recommend a student to advanced courses if they are still taking ESL courses, Phillips said. Those advanced courses, especially at the high school level, are crucial to being competitive in college admissions.

She said any school policies that keep English learners from participating in advanced courses would amount to language-based discrimination. Nevertheless, she said it’s a common practice she’s observed in her career as an educator and while studying for her doctorate in education.

“It’s not in the law, but it’s in practice,” Phillips said.

Not being able to test out of TELPAS can also impact students’ experience in school. Kids failing to pass the test could internalize the failure, which in turn makes them vulnerable to further academic struggles, Phillips said.

“What this does to children’s self-esteem is horrible,” Treviño said, particularly for students who can speak English well but have test results that tell them they are not proficient.

Carlene Thomas, the former ESL coordinator for the TEA who now is the CEO of an education consulting company, said she would like to see the TEA use more sophisticated tools that enable more conversational student responses to ensure TELPAS is “meaningful in how students interact socially and with content material.”

She added that educators should also help students by giving them more opportunities to practice speaking English during class, relying less on direct translation and ensuring they understand the stakes and structure of the test.

But as of now, she said, “TELPAS is not giving us an accurate reflection of where our students are.”

The full program is now LIVE for the , happening Sept. 5–7 in downtown Austin. Explore the program featuring more than 100 unforgettable conversations on topics covering education, the economy, Texas and national politics, criminal justice, the border, the 2024 elections and so much more.

This article originally appeared in at . The Texas Tribune is a member-supported, nonpartisan newsroom informing and engaging Texans on state politics and policy. Learn more at texastribune.org.

La combinación de las inversiones públicas en el sistema de la Universidad de California y la actitud hospitalaria del estado hacia la inmigración han creado una economía dinámica y dotada de tecnología que es la  de todos los estados norteamericanos. Su  también refleja ese dinamismo, y atiende a . En 2021, California matriculó a más estudiantes EL en grados de Kínder a 12 que .

Sin embargo, de 1998 a 2016, en medio de , las escuelas del estado contradijeron su reputación cosmopolita, promulgando una normativa para que se enseñara exclusivamente en inglés a los estudiantes EL. Como era de esperar, la política hizo poco para cambiar la trayectoria demográfica del estado y .

Por esa razón, en el año 2016, los votantes de California aprobaron la Proposición 58 en un referéndum que volvía a plantear la posibilidad de la educación bilingüe para los EL de California. Los partidarios promovieron la medida como una oportunidad para que el estado ofreciera un sistema escolar multilingüe acorde con su reputación de sociedad plural y diversa que preparara a los estudiantes para prosperar en la economía global.

Este artículo es el primero en una serie de The 74 sobre los esfuerzos de California por construir un sistema educativo bilingüe digno de su reputación de diversidad cultural. 

Ocho años después de la aprobación de la Proposición 58, es. La eliminación activa de idiomas en las aulas del estado durante casi dos décadas ha dado lugar a innumerables desafíos. Aun así, la adopción del bilingüismo por parte del estado ha acercado la narrativa pública . California lanzó el , que ahora se ha extendido a nivel nacional, y que otorga reconocimiento público a los graduados de Kínder hasta el grado 12 que demuestren competencia en más de un idioma. Esfuerzos de este tipo son los que están cambiando el discurso público en California sobre los idiomas y aumentando la demanda de oportunidades de aprendizaje bilingüe.

Reductos bilingües en una era monolingüe

En 1998, cuando California adoptó la Proposición 58 y su política de enseñar únicamente en inglés,  daban a entender que aproximadamente la mitad de los votantes latinos apoyaban el mandato. Las encuestas a pie de urna posteriores sugerían , pero la medida se aprobó igualmente.

El número de estudiantes EL en aulas de educación bilingüe . Aunque la nueva política de enseñar sólo en inglés permitía a las comunidades ofrecer educación bilingüe si un número suficiente de padres de estudiantes EL optaban por no participar en una educación exclusivamente en inglés, sólo una pequeña parte de las  pudo alcanzar ese umbral. El español, el coreano, el japonés, el cantonés y otros idiomas que no fueran el inglés desaparecieron de las escuelas.

Pero la decisión del estado no borró el deseo de muchos californianos de que se reconocieran y se trabajaran en la escuela las habilidades bilingües que sus hijos empezaban a demostrar. La persistente demanda de los padres latinos puso en marcha y/o mantuvo programas bilingües y de inmersión en dos idiomas, como el campus en Burlington del Camino Nuevo Charter Academy de Los Ángeles.

La escuela abrió sus puertas en el año 2000; el interés de la comunidad por el bilingüismo empujó a los líderes a dar prioridad al desarrollo de los alumnos tanto en inglés como en español. “Recibíamos niños que venían de programas que estaban por toda la ciudad”, dice la ex directora general de Camino Nuevo, Ana Ponce. “Y los padres querían que sus hijos mantuvieran su lengua materna. No estábamos sujetos a las limitaciones de la Proposición 227 porque éramos una escuela chárter, así que nos embarcamos en la exploración de diferentes modelos de educación bilingüe”.

La escuela optó por un modelo de inmersión en dos idiomas (o DLI, por sus siglas en inglés) que comienza con la mayoría de la enseñanza en español y aumenta paulatinamente la enseñanza en inglés hasta que los dos idiomas están equilibrados en los últimos grados de primaria. Décadas más tarde, el campus del centro de Los Ángeles bulle con conversaciones que cambian del español al inglés. Los alumnos de cuarto grado practican en parejas problemas de división en su clase de matemáticas jugando a Piedra, Papel o Tijeras para decidir quién va primero.

“Ojalá, Dios quiera que no, que no desaparezcan estas escuelas, ¿verdad? Porque les ayuda mucho a nuestros hijos de verdad”, comenta Maribel Martínez, una madre de Camino Nuevo desde hace 13 años. “No hablo mal de las [escuelas] del distrito, sé que también enseñan bien, pero pues el único error es de que pues quitaron el bilingüe… los dos idiomas valen mucho y más”.

Parte de ese valor es de carácter académico. Las investigaciones sugieren que los programas de inmersión en dos idiomas son la mejor manera de apoyar a los jóvenes que no son hablantes nativos de inglés en las escuelas de Estados Unidos. Pero los padres de la escuela Camino dicen que ésta es sólo una de las razones por las que valoran las destrezas emergentes de sus hijos en español e inglés. El primer hijo de Gloribel Reyes empezó en la escuela hace veinte años y el menor está matriculado en cuarto grado. “Es muy importante que los niños pues siempre tengan ese aprendizaje de lo que es el español y el bilingüe”, precisa, “porque si ellos aprenden nada más el inglés, pues se les va olvidando [el español], que es lo que hablamos los papás, porque si unos papás no hablamos[…] inglés, entonces ¿cómo nos podemos comunicar con ellos?”

Martínez está de acuerdo, y señala que el bilingüismo de la escuela facilita a las familias hispanohablantes el contacto con los maestros y el personal. Es decir, el esfuerzo de Burlington por contratar a personal para el programa DLI durante décadas ha dado lugar a una plantilla totalmente bilingüe.

Tras años de servicio como escuela al frente de la educación bilingüe, Camino Nuevo se ha convertido en una cantera bilingüe de la que otras escuelas pueden sacar provecho. Kylie Rector, Directora de Biliteracidad y Estudiantes EL de Camino Nuevo, dice que “el entusiasmo por invertir más en educación bilingüe” ha atraído a la escuela administradores de distintos distritos, desde San Diego hasta el norte de California.

No obstante, aunque se están reanudando programas bilingües y de inmersión en dos idiomas por todo el estado, en ningún lugar están creciendo lo suficientemente rápido como para cumplir con  de construir un sistema de al menos 1.600 programas de DLI para hacer que “la mitad de todos los estudiantes de Kínder a grado 12… participen en programas que lleven a la competencia en dos o más idiomas”. El año pasado, el estado dedicó  para poner en marcha nuevas escuelas de DLI; el estado calcula que con este dinero se crearán  nuevos.

Esto se debe, en parte, a que la prohibición durante dieciocho años de la mayoría de los programas bilingües en California prácticamente eliminó el mercado laboral para los maestros bilingües. Es por eso que los sistemas escolares de Kínder a grado 12 produjeron más graduados monolingües, cuyo idioma dominante fue el inglés, y por esta razón también los programas de formación de maestros bilingües del estado cerraron en gran medida.

Esto supone para los dirigentes de California el problema de la gallina y el huevo. No pueden aumentar las aulas bilingües en todo el estado sin más profesores bilingües, pero el sistema estatal de enseñanza primaria y secundaria sigue siendo mayoritariamente sólo en inglés y no está produciendo suficientes graduados bilingües para aumentar rápidamente la diversidad lingüística del profesorado del estado. Como resultado, el cuerpo docente de Kínder a grado 12 de California es mucho más blanco y monolingüe en su lengua materna, el inglés, que la población estudiantil primaria y secundaria de California.  los alumnos de Kínder a grado 12 de California.

El aumento de la demanda de educadores bilingües también ha hecho que el personal de Camino Nuevo sea muy valioso en el sector de la educación pública de California. Algunos antiguos empleados de Camino Nuevo han acabado fundando sus propias escuelas bilingües, como , fundadora de Yu Ming Public Charter School. Otros  en  y otros  de . Y otros trabajan en defensa de la educación en organizaciones sin fines de lucro como ,,, y la  Chavez.

La polinización cruzada del bilingüismo en el condado de San Diego

A sólo diez millas en carro del cruce fronterizo de San Ysidro entre Estados Unidos y México, el campus de Chula Vista Learning Community Charter School (CVLCC) es otro hervidero de bilingüismo. La escuela fue fundada por el Distrito Escolar Unificado de Chula Vista en 1998 como una forma de mantener las opciones bilingües una vez que llegó el mandato estatal de enseñar exclusivamente en inglés.

Eddie Caballero se incorporó a CVLCC un año después como profesor de quinto grado. “Fue un comienzo difícil”, asegura, ya que la escuela luchaba por centrar sus enfoques de instrucción académica y lingüística. Pero ya para 2004, la escuela se había unido en torno a una visión: poner énfasis adicional en las habilidades básicas de alfabetización temprana en ambos idiomas .

En 2005, Caballero se trasladó al Distrito Escolar Unificado de San Diego para trabajar en puestos administrativos. En 2008, varias familias de estudiantes EL se estaban organizando para firmar exenciones con el fin de iniciar un programa de educación bilingüe en Sherman Elementary, en la zona este de San Diego. La escuela necesitaba un educador bilingüe con experiencia; Caballero encajaba a la perfección. Estaba ansioso por utilizar lo que había aprendido en CVLCC para replicar la educación bilingüe de alta calidad, pero ahora a nivel de distrito.

Al igual que en CVLCC, “no tuvimos éxito inmediatamente”, dice Caballero. Avisa que cualquier programa de educación bilingüe no tendrá éxito automáticamente por el mero hecho de ser bilingüe. Con demasiada frecuencia, advierte, los responsables de los distritos piensan que pueden “reinventar” sus escuelas lanzando programas de DLI, “pero no, hay que implementarlo con cuidado”. Esto requiere una planeación cuidadosa en torno al plan de estudios, la dotación de personal, los esfuerzos de participación familiar y mucho más. Es por eso que, en 2016, Caballero contrató a Nicole Enriquez, ex maestra de CVLCC, para ser su subdirectora; ella asumió el papel de directora cuando él dejó el Distrito Escolar Unificado de San Diego.

Ahora, en 2024, Caballero está de vuelta como director general de CVLCC, que sigue sirviendo como motor para el ecosistema local de educación bilingüe. Precisa que los maestros bilingües suelen acudir a su escuela desde distritos cercanos con el objetivo de desarrollar su experiencia enseñando en entornos bilingües o de inmersión en dos idiomas. Sin embargo, muchos se van al cabo de cinco años, porque quedarse más tiempo les costaría la antigüedad contractual en los distritos donde empezaron su carrera.

“CVLCC es una escuela bilingüe ejemplar que no sólo tiene un plan de estudios cultural y lingüísticamente sensible, sino que también prepara la conciencia crítica global de los estudiantes a través de enfoques innovadores e impactantes”, precisa Cristina Alfaro. “En sus inicios… la llamábamos la Escuela de los Sueños”.

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En los 26 años transcurridos desde que los votantes de California inauguraron la era monolingüe en su estado -y ocho años después de que acabaran con ella- está claro que el terreno de la opinión pública ha cambiado. Las encuestas realizadas antes del referéndum de la Proposición 58 de 2016 revelaban que . 

 que tuvo lugar en el 2023 encontró que el 65 por ciento de las familias latinas “inscribirían a sus hijos en un programa bilingüe si estuviera disponible”. En otra encuesta realizada en 2023 entre californianos mayoritariamente hispanohablantes,  el 59 por ciento de los encuestados consideraba el “acceso a programas bilingües” una prioridad “esencial” o “alta” para sus familias.

Baluartes bilingües como CVLCC y Camino Nuevo son recursos esenciales para ayudar a que esa esperanza sea realista para más de esas familias. “Soy chicana de segunda generación”, dice la directora Enríquez de la escuela Sherman. “Y esta generación de padres dice cosas como: ‘Yo nunca tuve esta oportunidad cuando era niño. Ojalá pudiera hablar más español. Quiero que mis hijos puedan ser bilingües, que tengan la oportunidad que yo nunca tuve’. ¡Y yo también soy así! Yo traje a mis hijos aquí, a través de Sherman, para que pudieran ser bilingües”.

California is, by almost every measure, one of the United States’ most diverse and vibrant states. The country’s , it also has . 

The combination of public investments in the University of California system and the state’s welcoming approach to immigration have created a dynamic, technology-infused economy that is the of any U.S. state. Its also reflects that dynamism, serving . In 2021, California enrolled more K–12 ELs than . 

And yet, from 1998 to 2016, the state’s schools belied its cosmopolitan reputation, enacting an English-only mandate for ELs amid a . Unsurprisingly, the policy did little to change the state’s demographic trajectory — and . 

That’s why California voters passed Proposition 58 in 2016, a referendum that reopened the possibility of bilingual education for California’s ELs. Supporters sold the measure as an opportunity for the state to deliver a multilingual school system befitting its reputation as a plural and diverse society preparing students to succeed in the global economy. 

This is the first in The 74‘s series on California’s effort to build a bilingual education system worthy of its culturally diverse reputation. 

Eight years after Prop. 58’s passage, . Nearly two decades of actively subtracting languages from the state’s classrooms created myriad challenges. And yet, the state’s embrace of bilingualism has brought public narratives closer to . California launched the now-national , which provides public recognition for K–12 graduates who demonstrate proficiency in more than one language. Efforts like these are changing California’s public discourse around languages and increasing demand for bilingual learning opportunities. 

Part 1: An 18- year ban on Bilingual Education in California begins

When Proposition 227 made California an English-only state in 1998, suggested that roughly half of Latino voters supported the move. Subsequent exit polls suggested, but the measure passed all the same. 

The number of ELs in bilingual education classrooms . While the new English-only policy permitted communities to offer bilingual education if enough ELs’ parents “opted out” of English-only education, only a small fraction of were able to meet that threshold. Spanish, Korean, Japanese, Cantonese, and other non-English languages vanished from schools. 

But the state’s decision didn’t erase many Californians’ desire to have their children’s emerging bilingual abilities recognized and cultivated at school. Persistent demand from Latino parents launched and/or maintained bilingual and DLI programs, such as Los Angeles’ Camino Nuevo Charter Academy’s Burlington campus. 

The school opened in 2000; community interest in bilingualism pushed leaders to prioritize students’ development in both English and Spanish. “We were getting kids that were coming from programs that were all over the city,” says former Camino Nuevo CEO Ana Ponce. “And parents wanted their kids to keep their native language. We were not bound by Proposition 227’s limitations because we were a charter, so we embarked on exploring different bilingual education models.” 

The school settled on a DLI model that begins with a majority of instruction in Spanish and gradually increases English-language instruction until the languages are evenly balanced in later elementary grades. Decades later, the Central Los Angeles campus effervesces with chatter swinging from Spanish to English. Fourth-graders pair off to practice division problems in math class to decide who goes first by playing Rock, Paper, Scissors or Piedra, Papel, Tijeras. 

“I hope that God keeps these schools from disappearing, because they really help our children,” says 13-year Camino Nuevo parent Maribel Martinez in Spanish. “I don’t want to talk down the district’s schools, they also teach well, but their big mistake was cutting bilingual education…two languages are worth so much.” 

Some of that value is academic. Research suggests that dual language immersion programs are the best way to support young, non-native English speakers in U.S. schools. But Camino parents say that this is only one of the reasons they prize their children’s emerging Spanish and English skills. Gloribel Reyes’ first child started at the school twenty years ago and her youngest is enrolled in fourth grade. “It’s very important that the children learn both Spanish and English,” she says in Spanish, “because if they only learn English, they forget their own language, the language their parents speak. Some of their parents don’t speak English—how can we speak with them?”

Martinez agrees—and notes that the school’s bilingualism makes it easier for Spanish-dominant families to engage with teachers and staff. That is, decades of hiring to staff Burlington’s DLI program have produced a fully bilingual staff. 

After years of serving as a bilingual outpost, Camino Nuevo has become a bilingual quarry for other schools to mine. Kylie Rector, Camino Nuevo’s Director of Biliteracy and English Learners, says that “the buzz to invest more in bilingual education” has brought administrators from districts from San Diego to Northern California to the school. 

Still, while bilingual and dual language immersion (DLI) programs are relaunching across the state, they are not growing anywhere fast enough to meet of building a system of at least 1,600 DLI programs to have “half of all K–12 students…participate in programs leading to proficiency in two or more languages.” Last year, the state devoted for launching new DLI schools — the state estimates it will produce . 

This is partly because California’s eighteen-year ban on most bilingual programs also flatlined the job market for bilingual teachers. This meant that K–12 school systems produced more monolingual, English-dominant graduates, and it meant that the state’s bilingual teacher training programs largely shuttered. 

This presents California leaders with a chicken-and-egg problem. They cannot grow bilingual classrooms around the state without more bilingual teachers, but the state’s K–12 system remains mostly English-only and is not producing enough bilingual graduates to rapidly grow the linguistic diversity of the state’s teaching force. As a result, California’s K–12 teaching force is much whiter and more native English-speaking monolingual than California’s K–12 student body. . 

The increased demand for bilingual educators has also made Camino Nuevo staff valuable across California’s public education sector. Some erstwhile Camino Nuevo employees have gone on to launch dual language schools of their own, like Yu Ming Public Charter School founder . Others are in and other . Still others are working in education advocacy at non-profit organizations like , , , , and the . 

Cross-Pollinating Bilingualism in San Diego County

Just a ten mile drive from the U.S.-Mexico San Ysidro border crossing, Chula Vista Learning Community Charter School’s (CVLCC) campus is another hotbed of bilingualism. The school was founded by the Chula Vista Unified School District in 1998 as a way to maintain bilingual options once the state’s English-only mandate arrived. 

Eddie Caballero joined CVLCC a year later as a 5th grade teacher. “It was a rough start,” he says, as the school struggled to focus its academic and linguistic instructional approaches. But by 2004, the school had coalesced around a vision — putting extra campus emphasis on foundational early literacy skills in both languages . 

In 2005, Caballero moved to San Diego Unified School District to work in administrative roles. In 2008, a number of families of ELs were organizing to sign waivers to start a bilingual education program at Sherman Elementary, on San Diego’s east side. The school needed an experienced bilingual educator; Caballero was a natural fit. He was eager to use what he’d learned at CVLCC to replicate high-quality bilingual education — now in a district setting. 

Just as at CVLCC, “We didn’t see success immediately,” Caballero says. He warns that just any bilingual education program won’t automatically succeed just by virtue of being bilingual. Too often, he warns, district leaders think they can “rebrand” their schools by launching DLI programs, “but no, you have to implement it carefully.” This requires careful planning around curriculum, staffing, family engagement efforts, and much more. That’s why, in 2016, Caballero hired former CVLCC teacher Nicole Enriquez to be his assistant principal; she stepped in as principal when he left San Diego Unified. 

Now, in 2024, Caballero is back as CVLCC’s CEO, which continues to serve as a flywheel for the local bilingual education ecosystem. He says that bilingual teachers often come to his school from nearby districts with the goal of developing their expertise teaching in bilingual or DLI settings. However, many leave after five years, because staying longer would cost them contractual seniority back in the districts where they began their careers. 

“CVLCC is an exemplary dual language school that not only has a culturally and linguistically responsive curriculum—but also prepares students’ global critical consciousness through innovative and impactful approaches,” says Cristina Alfaro. “At its inception…we called it the Dream School.”

Building Back

In the 26 years since California voters launched their state’s monolingual era — and eight years since they ended it — it’s clear that the ground of public opinion has shifted. Polling before the 2016 Proposition 58 referendum found that .

found that 65% of Latino families “would enroll their children in a bilingual program if it were available.” In a separate 2023 poll of mostly Spanish-dominant Californians, 59% of respondents listed “access to bilingual programs” as an “essential” or “high” priority for their families. 

Bilingual strongholds like CVLCC and Camino Nuevo are essential resources for helping make that hope realistic for more of those families. “I’m second-generation Chicana,” says Sherman principal Enriquez. “And this generation of parents says things like, ‘I never got this opportunity as a kid. I wish that I could speak more Spanish. I want my kids to be able to be bilingual, to get the opportunity that I never had.’ And I’m that parent too! I brought my kids here, through Sherman, so they could be bilingual.”

The Golden State: it’s where America looks for progress.

But leading the curve isn’t an unalloyed good. Various booms powered by its tech sector have brought California a dynamic labor market and simultaneously . California is pioneering aggressive policies for slowing the pace of climate change even as escalating and uncertainties leave it ahead of most states in facing climate change’s consequences.

Perhaps most of all, California is the American vanguard when it comes to demographics. America’s future is moving towards and diversity—versions of those trends have already arrived in California’s present. As my co-author Jonathan Zabala and I put it in our recent Century Foundation report, :

In 2021–22, the state’s schools were 56 percent Latino/a/x, 10 percent Asian, 5 percent African-American, 4 percent multiracial, and 2 percent Filipino. Just 21 percent of California students identify as white. In 2022, roughly 40 percent of California K–12 students . California schools enroll —meaning that the state’s ELs constitute more than 21 percent of the U.S.’ 5 million ELs.

California leans global: never of the state’s economic output to other countries’. But when it comes to its genuinely international-grade linguistic diversity, California has long been ambivalent. In 1998, the state’s voters passed Proposition 227, mandating monolingual, English-only instruction across its schools. It took nearly two decades — and piles of research showing that this approach is ineffective — before the state in a 2016 referendum and embraced in California classrooms.

charts California’s progress in the seven years since then. The state has done much to align its vision for ELs’ success with research on these children’s linguistic and academic development—in particular, by prioritizing access to bilingual instruction. After the 2016 referendum, state leaders launched initiatives setting ambitious goals for improving ELs’ educational opportunities in the state’s schools—the and . In the latter, for instance, the state pledged to “quadrupl[e] the number of [dual-language immersion] programs from 407 in 2017 to 1,600 in 2030,” and have “three out of four students [be] proficient in two or more languages, earning them a State Seal of Biliteracy.”

State legislators have backed these — and related — objectives with some modest resources, including $10 million in state grants to launch 55 new dual-language programs in coming years. It has also provided funding for several programs aimed at increasing the diversity of California teachers and/or filling teacher shortages that include .

And yet, much remains to be done. That $10 million in grants reached 27 local education agencies, leaving 991 without any funding incentive to convert their English-only programs to bilingual campuses. That’s nowhere near enough to reach the Global California goals. As of 2019–20, California enrolled roughly 1 in 6 of its more than 1 million ELs in some form of bilingual education or dual-language immersion—. This ranks California well behind its peers—both EL-rich states like Texas and Illinois and less linguistically diverse states like Wisconsin and Alaska.

, this is partly driven by a shortage of state funding for bilingual and dual-language programs. California’s single $10 million dual-language immersion grants competition is nowhere near large enough to keep pace with other states:

���ٲ���— and has an annual K–12 education state budget of just over $8 billion—still than $5 million to its dual-language immersion program in 2023, and has appropriated more than $7.3 million to the program for 2024. Since 2012, Delaware—a state with and an annual K–12 education budget of not quite $2 billion—has annually spent and on dual-language immersion expansion…California, by comparison, and has an annual K–12 [state education]budget of .

Forget international comparisons—when it comes to building a genuinely multilingual public education system suited to the 21^st century’s global economy, California isn’t even atop the U.S.’s interstate leaderboard. The state simply has not yet made it a priority to invest proportional resources into programs that meaningfully extend ELs’ access to bilingual and/or dual language opportunities.

Indeed, support for ELs’ bilingualism has not been a priority even in other new statewide education reforms. As we outline in the report, though California has invested major new public resources in trying to achieve universal access to early education programs for 4-year-olds and growing the state’s roster of community schools — ELs’ unique strengths and needs have not been central to these initiatives’ designs.

This is equal parts frustrating and surprising for a state with California’s political climate and demographic advantages. An overwhelmingly progressive state that publicly proclaims the value of its students’ remarkable linguistic, cultural and ethnic diversity cannot celebrate these very modest bilingualism investments as sufficient.

Arizona’s public schools chief is taking the governor and attorney general to court in an over how English Language Learner students should be taught.

On Wednesday, Superintendent of Public Instruction Tom Horne, a Republican, filed a lawsuit in Maricopa County Superior Court asking the judge to settle a disagreement over the interpretation of state law between his office and Gov. Katie Hobbs and Attorney General Kris Mayes.

At the heart of the disagreement is whether a teaching model authorized by the State Board of Education and used in as many as across the state complies with a law approved by Arizona voters more than 20 years ago. The 50-50 Dual-Language Immersion model is one of four methods used to teach students who aren’t yet proficient in English, known as English Language Learners. Under the model, students are taught half the day in English and the other half in another language, often their native language.

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Horne, long an opponent of bilingual education, argues that the 50-50 model violates Proposition 203. The measure, which voters approved in 2000, mandates that all students be taught only in English until they’ve achieved proficiency. Acting on that interpretation, Horne from schools using the 50-50 model.

Democrats Hobbs and Mayes disagree with Horne’s stance and strongly support dual language models. In a issued just a month after Horne’s warnings, Mayes said his office has no ability to withhold funding and assured schools that the 50-50 model is protected by the authority of the State Board of Education, to which Horne can, at most, report violations of board rules. She pointed out that a , passed by legislators concerned with the academic struggles of English Language Learners, ordered the board to develop alternative, research-based teaching methods.

That directive ultimately paved the way for the adoption of the 50-50 model and gave the board sole authority over how to teach English Language Learners.

The State Board of Education affirmed shortly after Mayes’ opinion that it had no plans to make any changes to its adopted teaching models or punish schools for using the 50-50 model.

The question of whether the 50-50 model falls afoul of the provisions in Prop. 203 was not discussed in Mayes’ opinion, however. And Horne returned to the conflict in his lawsuit. The Arizona Constitution protects voter-approved initiatives from being amended by lawmakers unless the changes are made in the spirit of the original initiative, and neither the State Board of Education nor the legislature has the power to override the will of the voters, Horne said.

“No governmental body can override a voter-protected initiative,” reads his lawsuit. “The voter protected initiative specifically requires that instruction be in English until the student tests as proficient in English, or a parental waiver is obtained.”

The only exception baked into Prop. 203 is for parents to waive the requirement of an English-only education annually, in writing and in person. While the State Board of Education has said it won’t require waivers, it has also stated that it is within Horne’s power to begin doing so. And, according to Horne, schools that employ the 50-50 model without asking for written waivers are doing so illegally.

“The voter-protected initiative specifically requires that English-language learners be taught English by being taught in English, and that they be placed in English-language classrooms,” Horne’s attorneys wrote. “Dual language classrooms, in the absence of a statutory waiver, are therefore prohibited by the voter-protected initiative.”

In a declaration added to the lawsuit, Margaret Garcia Dugan, Horne’s deputy superintendent who has served under him for two terms and helped draft the language of Prop. 203, said the inclusion of a waiver requirement underscores the English-only aspect of the initiative.

“Had the intended purpose of the initiative been to allow students to be taught in a language other than English throughout the school day, then there would have been no need for the waiver provision,” she said.

Clearly, Dugan said, Prop. 203 was never meant to promote bilingual education, and the efforts from lawmakers to allow the State Board of Education to adopt the waiver-free 50-50 model are nullified as a result.

“Some have interpreted legislation passed by the legislature in 2019 as authorizing dual language classrooms. If that is true, the legislation is invalid as a violation of the Voter Protection Act,” Dugan said. “That is because it does not further the purpose of the initiative, which was to make sure that students are taught English through the school day so that they can learn English quickly and then go on to academic success.”

A common refrain from opponents of dual language models is that it hinders the progress of students learning English, and that argument is present in Horne’s lawsuit, which was also filed against Creighton Elementary School District.

Horne said that the English proficiency rate of Creighton’s English Learner students is dismal, at 5.1% last year, compared to elementary schools in other districts, like Catalina Foothills Unified District, with 33.03% proficient, or Scottsdale Unified District. which saw 23.87% of students become proficient.

But both of those districts are significantly different from Creighton, which has a student body that is , and poor — about in 2022. The demographic makeup of Catalina Foothills Unified, which is similarly sized, is and only 11% of the district’s students qualified for free and reduced meals last year. Scottsdale Unified, which is three times larger than the two other districts, has a . About 22% of Scottsdale Unified students qualified for the free and reduced meal program in 2022.

Research indicates that the dual language models are , albeit at a slower pace than fully immersive methods. Importantly, studies show that full immersion models can for English learners, including depression and anxiety.

Horne requested that the court declare the 2019 law unconstitutional if its purpose was to permit dual language instruction. He also asked the judge to settle the disagreement between his office and those of other state leaders by dismissing Mayes’ opinion as incorrect and declaring that the currently approved 50-50 model is contrary to the provisions of Prop. 203 if there are no waivers being required.

A spokesperson for Mayes declined to comment, saying her office is still reviewing the lawsuit.

Christian Slater, a spokesman for Hobbs, said she will continue to back the 50-50 teaching model as a critical support for students across the state and Arizona’s future workforce.

“Dual language programs are critical for training the workforce of the future and providing a rich learning environment for Arizona’s children,” Slater said. “Governor Hobbs is proud to stand by dual language programs that help ensure the next generation of Arizonans have an opportunity to thrive. She will not back down in the face of the superintendent’s lawsuit.”

is part of States Newsroom, a network of news bureaus supported by grants and a coalition of donors as a 501c(3) public charity. Arizona Mirror maintains editorial independence. Contact Editor Jim Small for questions: info@azmirror.com. Follow Arizona Mirror on and .

This wave of backlash, forced by America’s culturally anxious fretting over whether “their” country is too fast for their liking, is nothing new. In fact, the anti-immigrant, anti-Black pendulum swing in the United States, usually after periods of progress, is about as predictable as it gets. 

Fortunately, there’s ample evidence that this — the ugly, illiberal drama — too may pass. The United States continues to grow more racially, ethnically, linguistically and culturally , and this panoply of human riches is showing up in our schools. This is particularly clear when it comes to languages on campus — there are over in U.S. schools than there were in 2000, and their . 

Dual language classrooms offering academic instruction in two languages (and often English learners and English-dominant children) . This is of American public schools today — plural, polyglot campuses adjusting their pedagogies to meet the needs of a wide range of learners. 

And yet, it’s no simple matter to make those adjustments. While talk of national teacher shortages appears to be premature, demand for has long outstripped supply. American teachers are disproportionately and monolingual — a major stumbling block for schools hoping to offer more bilingual learning opportunities. The country can’t have more bilingual schools, let alone dual language programs, unless it trains, hires and retains more teachers who can work proficiently in languages other than English. 

Policymakers are working on the problem. The U.S. Department of Educationin Augustus F. Hawkins Centers of Excellence Program grants to support the training of more racially, ethnically and linguistically diverse teachers. The dozen grantees chosen in this round of the competition encompass a large number of institutions prioritizing teacher diversity that includes language considerations. is using its $1.5 million grant to train, certify and place more than 100 bilingual teachers. Importantly, its program will include cohorts of Spanish-English bilingual teacher candidates and Haitian Creole-English bilingual teacher candidates. is using its grant to recruit Latino teachers to work in bilingual settings. 

These investments will help expand access to bilingual education around the country, a goal with myriad benefits drawn from multiple fields of research. First, a raft of studies show that English learners do best in schools that support their emerging bilingualism. Dual language is the for helping English learners maintain their bilingualism, , and . It also appears to support . 

Further, studies that students gain academically from having teachers who match their racial or ethnic identities. Dual language programs may produce unique benefits in this regard if members of their linguistically and culturally diverse teaching staff resemble the identities of their students. And indeed, a large majority of dual language schools offer instruction in — and regularly rely upon large numbers of Spanish-dominant Latino teachers. Most English learners are . 

Finally, that often , like an improved ability to . And that’s to say nothing of the and advantages the country gains from fostering a polyglot society. 

But all of this research — and correspondingly high family demand for bilingual instruction in communities around the country — won’t lead to expansions of bilingual and dual-language schooling on their own. As one of us outlined in , many state training and licensure systems remain largely hostile to multilingual teacher candidates, existing dual language schools are sometimes established to provide bilingual instruction to English-dominant children — even as English learners are consigned to English-only instruction, and so forth. 

So there’s more for policymakers to do. Federal and state leaders should consider prioritizing investments in teacher training programs with a track record of producing high-quality bilingual teachers. This must include alternative teacher training programs, which tend to be than traditional programs. Indeed, in March, the Biden administration the country’s investment in the Augustus F. Hawkins grants from $15 million to $30 million. 

And state policymakers should consider updating their teacher licensure systems to remove chokepoints — like English-only licensure exams — that prevent linguistically diverse teacher candidates from reaching the classroom. States should also optimize the linguistically diverse staff already serving in their classrooms — many of whom are aides or paraprofessionals — and fund pathways to help them become lead teachers. 

Or, you know, they could ignore the challenge of growing our bilingual teacher corps — an opportunity sparked by genuine progress and improvement in American schools — and focus their energies on demagoguing over the book selection in elementary school libraries. This really shouldn’t be a tough choice. 

And yet, in most American cities — and a wide range of — a quiet consensus has formed around dual language immersion programs. These bilingual schools appear to appeal to everyone — for the past two decades, . They’re popular because they offer 1) all students the chance to become bilingual in diverse learning settings, and 2) English learners the best chance to retain their emerging bilingual skills and succeed academically. But in a joint Century Foundation and the Children’s Equity Project published this week, we show that these bonuses aren’t a certainty. 

First: What are they? The most effective are “two-way” dual language immersion programs. These offer bilingual instruction and a bilingual social world — by enrolling roughly equal shares of children who are native speakers of English and children who are native speakers of the program’s other, “partner,” language. This is a major improvement on traditional U.S. language courses, where one Spanish-speaking (or French-speaking, or Arabic-speaking, etc.) teacher tries to cajole a classful of native English-speakers into conjugating verbs. It is also an improvement on traditional U.S. bilingual education programs, which usually only offer bilingual instruction long enough to transition English-learning children to English-only instruction. 

But, as one of us noted in — and — the relative scarcity of dual language schools means that these goals are in tension. and these students gain unique benefits from dual language programs, particularly when they’re integrated. And yet, in some cases, high demand for dual language from privileged, English-dominant, and often white families displaces less-privileged ELs, who are disproportionately likely to be , and . 

It’s an elemental question of fairness: research suggests that policymakers should prioritize equitable dual language access for English-learning children, but also that diverse, linguistically integrated programs work best for ELs and English-dominant children alike. And, of course, the program’s popularity with the privileged can make it difficult to find a balance. 

To get a clearer view of the situation, our new report analyzes more than 1,600 dual language schools enrolling more than 1 million students across 13 states and the District of Columbia. It explores the different ways that cities and school districts are navigating that tension in their dual language programs. 

Given the tension between prioritizing English learners’ access and maintaining diverse dual-language campuses, it can be difficult to define and measure what counts as fair access. For instance, we found that a majority of dual-language schools in Dallas, New York City, Los Angeles, Albuquerque, Oakland, San Francisco, Houston, and Portland enrolled a lower share of white students compared to their share of the district population in 2020. 

But we also found that access to these schools is changing over time. ELs’ share of dual-language enrollment shrank between 2015 and 2020 in a majority of these schools in New York City, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Oakland, and San José. Meanwhile, white enrollment shares grew in a majority of dual-language schools in New York City, Dallas, Los Angeles, Albuquerque, Portland, and Washington, D.C.

These patterns are particularly striking in the context of shifting American public school demographics, where the share of white students — and the share of English learners has been growing.

Up to a point, enrolling more English-dominant students (of any race or ethnicity) can make dual-language schools work better for all students — including ELs. Indeed, while 92 of Dallas’s 154 dual-language programs got whiter since 2015, just 33 were whiter than the district in 2020. This is mostly because Dallas enrolls relatively few white, English-dominant students. A majority of the district’s students are current or former English learners and most come from Spanish-dominant homes. As a result, most of Dallas’s programs are “one-way” dual-language models, serving classrooms of only Spanish-dominant children. The upshot: the district might benefit from finding ways to increase English-dominant enrollment in these schools. Notably, San Antonio is pursuing this strategy in some of its dual-language programs.

The challenge, however, is to ensure that privileged, English-dominant families don’t fully colonize these schools and push ELs out. Fortunately, there are relatively straightforward ways for policymakers to protect English learners’ access. For instance, in Washington, D.C., 13 out of 17 dual-language schools had student populations whiter than the district in 2020. But in San Francisco, another gentrification epicenter, just 3 out of 21 dual language schools were whiter than the district. 

Demand for dual language is high in both places. wind up on D.C. dual language schools’ waitlists each year. In , in one program, there were two applicants for each seat reserved for native Japanese-speakers and 15 applicants for each seat available to non-native Japanese speakers — and similar patterns in other dual language programs. 

Notably, district leaders in San Francisco are much more aggressive about reserving seats for native speakers of the non-English partner language (e.g. Spanish, Cantonese, Mandarin, Japanese, Korean, etc.). The data suggest the reserved seats are perhaps the key difference — without them, demand from San Francisco’s English-dominant families would rapidly shift programs away from English learners who are native speakers of the program’s non-English languages. Our research suggests that more schools should consider similar policies to ensure that ELs have fair access to the dual-language classrooms that serve them best. 

Finally, as we note in the report, “nothing exacerbates educational unfairness like scarcity.” The tension between prioritizing English learners’ access and enrolling diverse dual language classrooms would dissolve if there were enough programs to meet family demand. Local, state and federal policymakers should increase public investments in growing these programs. Above all, this means committing resources to train and license more of the bilingual teachers necessary to expand dual language instruction. 

Without reforms like these, the country’s growing number of dual language programs could fall well short of their potential for ELs and English-dominant students alike. Dual language schools full of privileged, English-dominant children will be less effective at producing bilingual graduates. Dual language schools that segregate Spanish-dominant (or Arabic-dominant, Vietnamese-dominant, etc.) English learners away from their English-dominant peers risk reinforcing social separation between families of different backgrounds. Given the popularity and effectiveness of dual language programs with children from linguistically, racially, socioeconomically, ethnically and politically diverse communities, that would be a failure indeed. 

Century Foundation senior fellow and 74 contributor ; Children’s Equity Project executive director ; Century Foundation fellow and Century Foundation senior policy associate are the co-authors of “Ensuring Equitable Access to Dual-Language Immersion Programs.”

Republican Tom Horne, a 77-year-old Harvard-educated attorney, is returning to the job he held from 2003 to 2011, before completing a four-year stint as state attorney general. His critics worry he will reverse progress made under Democratic incumbent Kathy Hoffman, whom he narrowly beat, and will relax standards around the state’s newly expanded and long fought-over voucher program. 

His re-emergence alarms those who remember how he proudly dismantled bilingual education in the state earlier in his career and pushed to ban an ethnic studies program credited for better engaging Hispanic students by teaching them about their own history. Now, Horne is fixated on another topic, a new iteration of one of his older concerns: critical race theory. 

The catch-all term used by conservatives to describe the teaching of systemic racism is, in Horne’s view, an extension of the problem surrounding ethnic studies, in which children, he argues, are taught to view each other through the lens of race.

“What matters is what we know, what we do,” Horne told The 74. “Race is entirely irrelevant. My opponents say race is primary. I don’t want to teach kids that race is primary, but that they have to treat each other as individuals.”

A court ruled in 2017 that the ethnic studies ban he lobbied for against the Tucson Unified School District was and But Horne disagrees, maintaining the same position more than a decade later. 

Horne, who calls himself “the opposite of a racist,” said he supports teaching history in totality, including “the horrors of slavery, Jim Crow…[and] what happened in Oklahoma,” a reference to the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre. He advocates for a curriculum that teaches every student about the contribution of all groups, he said.

A former state legislator who also served on the board of Phoenix’s Paradise Valley School District from 1978 to 2002, Horne has made numerous other pledges which he believes will bolster student performance and make campuses safer. 

He vowed to renew the state’s focus on testing, turn away from social-emotional learning, push for more guns on campus, impose stricter school discipline — and amp up newly expanded universal Empowerment Scholarship Accounts, signed into law by outgoing Gov. Doug Ducey in July. The program gives families approximately $6,500 a year per student to spend on private school tuition or other educational costs, like tutoring. It was initially offered to only a limited number of students, including those who attended failing schools or were in foster care, but is now available to all.

Critics say the new program will benefit the rich, not the poor as Horne has previously stated. But parents across the country, frustrated by school closures and disastrous distance learning efforts, are pushing for greater flexibility in their children’s education: A ballot measure to kill the voucher expansion in Arizona failed to gain enough signatures this election cycle.

Beth Lewis, co-founder and executive director of Save Our Schools Arizona, which formed in 2017 to oppose universal vouchers, has worked in education in the state for 12 years, with half of that time spent as a teacher in a Tempe elementary school. She said Horne’s plan will exacerbate inequality. 

“I’ve always taught in extremely low-income schools,” she said. “I see the impact of defunding public education … to not have counselors, aides, books and computers … and to have that money go [instead] to families already sending their kids to elite private schools — and who make millions — is painful,” she said. “It’s outright lying.”

Prior to the expansion, just 12,127 children participated in the ESA program, state education officials said. The figure shot up to 42,842 by early December: Approximately 67% of the applicants did not have a prior record of public school enrollment. It’s unclear how many were already enrolled in private school or who were being taught at home. 

But the voucher program is not Lewis’s only concern: She worries Horne’s election will mark a major regression in other, critical ways. 

“There is a fear we will take 10 or 20 steps backward,” she said. “He has an antiquated belief system. It’s not just that he’s conservative but an extremist, authoritarian. He’s all about forcing guns on campus. It’s all about the tests, this grind culture, punishment — a punitive nature around school. As a teacher, I just don’t think that’s what our kids need or deserve.”

Nicky Indicavitch, a parent and volunteer in her local school district, said Horne’s vow to dismantle social-emotional learning — he calls it “a front for CRT” — will take away a critical tool teachers use to help students manage their stress, bolster their performance and improve the classroom environment. 

“I have seen firsthand what happens when young people are not given the skills they need to manage complex social settings and how disruptive their behavior can become,” said Indicavitch, who has experience in social work. “Tom Horne vowing to remove this valuable piece of education will only cause our children, their classmates and educators to struggle more.” 

Controversial record perhaps forgotten

Bill Scheel, a long-time political consultant, said Horne has always been a divisive candidate centering on race-based issues. 

“He really has not changed his stripes or tactics in 20 years,” he said.

Horne was wise to stay away from the public spotlight since he last held office in 2014, Scheel said. Prior to that, he was investigated by numerous entities, including the FBI, for . 

He paid a $10,000 fine and no criminal charges were filed: Horne said he was .

“Under the First Amendment, if you run for public office, people can lie about you without any consequence,” he said. “There is a lot of lying that goes on.”

Horne also was criticized for hiring an assistant attorney general, Carmen Chenal, despite her : He said recently that she was amply qualified and did an excellent job, particularly by utilizing her skills as a Spanish speaker. 

Horne also was alleged to have left the scene of a in 2012, an incident that led to yet another scandal: Chenal was with Horne when the accident occurred in a parking lot near her apartment. The two married in 2020. 

As for the damages done to the other vehicle, Horne said at least some of it can be attributed to the vehicle  

All of these incidents come decades after the released damning findings about Horne’s previous business, allegations he dismissed in a recent email because they happened in the 1970s.

“He kept himself under the radar and I guess, to his credit, he did not attach himself to the Trump ticket,” Scheel said. “That kept some of that fire away from him.”

Trump-backed candidates across the country, including in Arizona, suffered : Kari Lake, a MAGA Republican who narrowly lost the race for governor of the state, has . Attorney general candidate Abe Hamadeh, another Trump pick, is just hundreds of votes behind his Democratic opponent and is .

Raised and spent over a $1M 

Horne stuck with CRT longer than others, but it’s not clear if his desire to limit classroom discussions of race — along with his opposition to bilingual education — were persuasive in a year when Arizona voters also approved a measure .

Beyond the low profile nature of the race, Scheel noted Horne far outspent Hoffman. The former preschool teacher and speech language pathologist was not a career politician, he said: She was elected amid a swarm of similar victories for . 

“He raised and spent over $1 million,” Scheel said. “She had $300,000.”

Hoffman’s nearly non-existent campaign allowed her challenger to be largely unharmed by a revelation that might have leveled another candidate. Horne was found to be in close ties with disgraced former state Rep. David Stringer, who was accused, in 1983, of with him. 

Stringer rather than disclose documents related to the case. 

Most recently, . Horne initially Stringer but later stepped away from him, telling The 74 he paid Stringer cash to return his in-kind contribution to the campaign. 

The issue never really gained traction with voters. 

“That’s where more money could have elevated that current scandal and really damaged him,” Scheel said. 

Douglas Cole, chief operating officer of HighGround, a Republican-leaning political consulting firm, said Horne has long remained focused on the issues. 

“He’s a policy wonk,” Cole said. “He always has been. He was that way as a [state] legislator, in the House of Representatives. He takes on controversial issues he believes in and fights for them. He gets pretty passionate about where he thinks things should go.”

No matter his ambitions for schools, his is a supervisory and regulatory position: Scheel isn’t sure how far Horne will get with a Democratic governor and, likely, attorney general. Cole agreed. 

“If he wants to make sweeping changes, he would have to convince 16 senators, 31 members of the House and a governor of the opposite party,” Cole said. “He’s operating in a different paradigm. He’s not a lawmaker.”

Despite this, Horne, a lifelong pianist who plays with local orchestras and supports funding for the arts, is determined to make change. 

He promises to investigate and quash any ethnic studies programs that have cropped up since he last held the post, saying the situation is much worse now than it was a decade ago: The teachings, he said, are more widespread.

“I have been fighting CRT since 2010, for 12 years, and for a long time felt like a voice in the wilderness,” he said. “It wasn’t until the last couple of years that the rest of the world caught up.”

Rosemely Osorio is swiftly becoming the educator that, years ago, she wished for.

When, at age 9, she and her family came to Rhode Island from Guatemala, Osorio recalls struggling academically as she navigated an unfamiliar system.

“When I came here and I started at the schools, I remember, I didn’t know how to speak any English. … I didn’t have a mentor who told me, ‘Hey, it’s really important that you work extremely hard in high school so then your GPA is good.’ I didn’t know what a GPA was,” she said.

In 2014, she graduated high school, the first in her family to accomplish the feat, but college remained out of reach because of finances and her immigration status — Osorio is a DACA recipient, the Obama-era program that provides deportation relief and work permits to undocumented residents brought here as children.

Now, years later as an adult learner in College Unbound and the Equity Institute’s TA to BA program, she’s just a semester away from earning her bachelor’s degree and teaching certification, key steps toward becoming exactly the role model she yearned for as a young person. At the same time, she works as a paraprofessional in the Central Falls high school she once attended, which serves a high share of Central American immigrant students.

“They see in me someone that they can count on,” said Osorio. “They’re like, ‘Oh, she knows how to speak Spanish. She looks Hispanic. So I can actually talk to her.’”

After only two years in operation, the teacher training program that opened doors for Osorio has scaled up more than six times beyond its original capacity and is launching cohorts in a second city, with talks underway to expand to a third, leaders say.

“The program has grown pretty tremendously,” said Carlon Howard, who helped launch the TA to BA fellowship and is chief impact officer at the Equity Institute. “There’s a lot of interest in initiatives such as these given that, across our country, schools and districts are challenged to find enough educators to staff their buildings.”

The Rhode Island program, which served 13 fellows in its inaugural 2020-21 class, will train 75 paraprofessionals this year. Two new, 10-student cohorts will launch in Philadelphia, where College Unbound already operates other programs, thanks to funding from the school district. Over 40 people remain on the waiting list, said David Bromley, College Unbound’s Philadelphia coordinator. In nearby Camden, New Jersey, the college is working with the teachers union to roll out programs there, too, he added.

“Investing deeply in our staff who already work closely with our students to bring them to the next stage of their career is a shining light of positivity in the midst of a difficult few years,” Larisa Shambaugh, chief of talent for Philadelphia public schools, said in an emailed statement to The 74.

‘Untapped talent’

Many paraprofessionals are highly skilled educators with years or even decades of classroom experience, Howard said, but still may feel like they have a “glass ceiling above their head” because they lack college degrees and financial resources.

Participants in the fellowship often study tuition-free thanks to the Equity institute’s “last dollar” scholarships covering costs not offset by federal Pell grants.

“We target folks who already work with kids … and all we’re trying to do is help them realize their greatest potential,” Howard said.

TAs are an “untapped talent” pool from which to recruit and train high-quality educators, agreed David Donaldson, managing partner for the National Center for Grown Your Own educator pipeline programs.

Students take two College Unbound courses a semester, scheduled outside of the work day, plus a lab component specifically geared to prepare them to lead a classroom. Thanks to a process at the college for measuring and awarding credits for prior learning experiences, some students are able to take an accelerated path to graduation. Osorio, for example, will finish in under two years.

“It’s been a lot of work,” she admits, cramming in classes while also working full time and taking care of family responsibilities. “But I don’t regret it.”

Addressing diversity, combatting shortages

Educators like Osorio — those who reflect their students culturally and linguistically — are in short supply in Rhode Island’s schools and nationwide. Roughly 1 in 10 teachers in the Ocean State are people of color while 4 in 10 students identify as Black, Hispanic, Indigenous or Asian. Meanwhile, educators of color and those who speak multiple languages improve outcomes for all students, but provide a particular boost to students whose identities they match, research shows.

Classroom aides, on the other hand, tend to be much more racially and linguistically diverse than teachers. The positions generally do not require a college degree and can be more accessible to people from low-income backgrounds. All her fellow teaching assistants, Osorio said, speak Spanish and the vast majority are people of color, whereas the teachers at her school are predominantly white and speak only English.

“To be honest, everything we see is all these teachers in the classrooms with a bunch of Hispanic kids, but the teacher doesn’t speak their language,” said Osorio. “That’s what my biggest motivation was to apply and getting certified was that students need teachers in the classroom that they can relate to.”

David Quiroa is joining the TA to BA fellowship this fall and works as a paraprofessional in his home community of Newport, Rhode Island.

“So many TAs who are in the [Black, Indigenous and people of color] community already have been putting in the work for several years … and they’re never given the opportunity to pursue higher education,” he said. “With TA to BA and College Unbound, it really is showing these communities, ‘Look, we are here, we are federally approved, we have all of the accreditations, we have so (many) established connections here in our community. You guys have been doing the work. We just want to give you your proper salary.’”

Meanwhile, districts across the country are facing acute staffing shortages and going to extreme lengths — including tapping college students or dangling $25,000 bonuses — to entice new hires.

In this climate, the grow-your-own approach is “getting a lot of attention now,” Donaldson said, even though turning to programs that provide a work-based pipeline to train new teachers is a longer-term solution.

His organization recently announced that seven states with existing or emerging apprenticeship programs to train educators launched an all-new National Registered Apprenticeship in Teaching Network. It comes on the heels of a June announcement from Education Secretary Miguel Cardona urging states to invest in grow-your-own programs, including those that begin in high school and with apprenticeship programs.

“Missouri, like other states, is struggling to address staffing issues created by teacher shortages. The Teacher Apprenticeship is an additional, innovative model to help address this issue,” Paul Katnik, Missouri’s assistant education commissioner, said in a release after the network was announced.

The other participating states are California, Florida, North Dakota, Texas, West Virginia and Wyoming.

‘We got you’

The relationship faculty build with participants is a secret to the program’s success in Rhode Island, and soon in the new Philadelphia cohorts, fellowship leaders and students say.

Osorio’s advisor “has played a big role in the way that I have been able to develop in this program,” said the College Unbound student. In addition to checking in academically and emotionally, the faculty member who runs her teaching lab class allowed Osorio to make up credits when she fell behind after a devastating miscarriage. And when Osorio was short on cash to renew her Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals status and fearing she would lose her work permit, she again asked for help.

“Don’t worry about it. We got you,” was the response from College Unbound. “And they actually sent me a check home so I could pay for that application.”

That support is by design, said Howard, who explained that the program trains its faculty to uplift participants and be there for them. Even as the fellowship scales up, he’s confident the family-like culture among cohorts will remain.

The TA to BA leader believes it’s within the program’s reach to train 200 paraprofessionals into full-time teachers in the next three to five years. If all goes according to plan, he hopes to serve 500 by 2030 and may also add a high school teaching apprenticeship component.

Quiroa, the Newport TA, is “thrilled” about the expansion, he said, because there are “absolutely” others in his field who could benefit from the opportunity. “Having this organization, this program, thrive … I think is the best thing we can do to move forward and break a lot of these inequities.”

Osorio, for her part, can visualize the impact that seeing someone like her at the helm of a classroom could have for immigrant students. Hispanic role models were vital in her professional life after graduating high school, she said, and now she can finally pass on the favor.

“I get how important mentors are so now I can be that for those students.”

The , derived from numerous sources that track immigration, details these students’ challenges and their impact on districts. Their number, difficult to ascertain on a national basis, represents a fraction of the 491,000 children under age 18 who arrived at the southern border in that same time period and remained in the country with unresolved immigration status in early 2020, according to RAND. The youngest among them were ineligible for school while some of the oldest never enrolled.

Roughly 75 percent of the children in the RAND study landed in just 10 states, including California, Texas, Florida, New York and Louisiana. Their arrival prompted the need for additional hires: RAND calculated that seven states would need at least 2,000 more teachers and other personnel to maintain student-staff ratios.

The need was even more acute in Los Angeles County and Harris County, Texas, which includes Houston: Each would need 1,000 additional educators, the organization concluded.

RAND researchers said they decided to study this population in part because their numbers have grown in recent years—and because their challenges are unique.

“Their needs are fundamentally different from those of many other immigrant children, and they are part of the future of the United States,” said senior policy researcher Shelly Culbertson. “They also have resilience and hopes and dreams—and by federal law they have a right to a public education.”

Despite a in 1982 that prohibited discrimination against students based on their immigration status, many young newcomers have been unlawfully turned away or shunted into inferior programs by school administrators who fear they will not graduate.

Oliver Torres, senior outreach paralegal at the Southern Poverty Law Center, an organization that has fought for the educational rights of newcomer children, said anti-immigration laws proposed and enacted across the country in recent years have had a chilling effect on many families, discouraging their participation in all elements of public life, including school.

Torres, a former English as a second language teacher, said new immigrants are so focused on simply reuniting with their loved ones — especially in the case of children separated from their parents at the border — that education has become less of a priority, a phenomenon he called “heartbreaking.”

Looking back to the years covered in the RAND study, he recalled the case of a 17-year-old boy from Guatemala held for more than six months at the controversial in Florida. The teen, who was only allowed outside for one hour a day, said he was pressured by staff to take medication to quell the emotional outbursts he suffered after being repeatedly told he would be reunited with his father only to see that promise broken. By the time of his release, the boy was too distressed to tend to his education.

“The idea of going to a two-hour night school class for English a couple of times a week seemed overwhelming,” Torres said. “It was such a level of trauma, that it was clearly going to take a significant amount of time to heal. All he wanted was just not to cry every day.”

Two districts serving new arrivals well

The teen’s experience echoed that of many undocumented children who have fanned out across the country in recent years. RAND, in addition to its nationwide view, also homes in on Jefferson Parish Schools in Louisiana and Oakland Unified School District in California, both of which have served these children for years. It lauded each for their admissions processes and for the academic support their immigrant students receive, including referrals for outside assistance.

RAND also praised the districts’ efforts to address students’ social-emotional needs, but administrators from both point to numerous ongoing challenges even prior to the pandemic, which caused a massive drop in enrollment among newly arrived students.

Veronica Garcia-Montejano, principal at Oakland International High School, a campus designed for newcomers, said her concerns for her students expand well beyond academic goals to their fundamental needs, including food and housing. Many are transient, moving between family, friends or the foster care system.

“They have a huge hurdle to overcome in developing that relationship with the person who is caring for them,” she said. “And if you are not an unaccompanied minor but haven’t seen your parent in years, you are in the same situation.”

Many newcomers are pulled into the workforce to manage financial obligations: Some have to pay back the smugglers who brought them to America, send remittances home, support themselves and contribute to their household, Garcia-Montejano said.

Her current students include two brothers, ages 16 and 18, living on their own. They have to balance their studies with earning enough money to pay rent.

“They are all they have,” she said.

During COVID-19, some students have qualified for rent relief but others have less formal agreements and are unable to seek official help, Garcia-Montejano said.

“We all have to assume the students are coming to the classroom with complex trauma, which presents itself in many ways, from overstimulation to withdrawal,” she said. “The most important thing for the adults in the building to do is to begin developing positive relationships with these students.”

Deborah Dantin, principal of Alice Birney Elementary School in Metairie, Louisiana, part of Jefferson Parish Schools, said one of her biggest struggles is in communicating with parents who do not speak English. Roughly 90 percent of her newcomer students and their families speak Spanish.

“We have lots of people on campus who speak Spanish, but it’s not the same as a direct call with a teacher or principal,” Dantin said. “We have someone translating, but it’s complicated, confusing and long.”

The communication barrier extends to the students themselves. Dantin would love to have a Spanish-speaking educator inside every classroom but until then, her school must employ other means to serve these children: Teachers sometimes use supplemental materials in Spanish to give students the support they need to make the leap to English.

And her school also offers dual-language classes for native English speakers and newcomers in younger grades. The offering helps Spanish-speakers read and write in their native tongue, a skill that will help them learn English because literacy is a transferable skill.

‘Don’t think of us as aliens’

Sua Ramos, a 17-year-old senior at Oakland International High School, remembers those early days trying to adapt to a new culture. Ramos, who identifies as non-binary, fled Honduras with their family after sixth grade rather than risk injury or death because of gang-related shootouts, common in their community. It was a difficult transition: they left friends and family behind and could barely utter a word in English.

“It was like I was on a different planet,” Sua said. “I didn’t know what the teacher was teaching. I was so confused. But as I got to know people, they helped me. I learned English little by little.”

RAND, in an extensive, expensive wish list, recommends the federal government improve the tracking of these students and create a records-sharing agreement with the Northern Triangle countries of Guatemala, El Salvador and Honduras similar to the one already in place with Mexico.

It says schools should work closely with local resettlement groups, federal and state agencies to help families access social, medical and legal services — and that the federal government should provide schools with additional funding for these students on a rolling basis as the money often lags their arrival.

RAND’s estimate includes those children who immigrated to the United States between Oct. 1, 2016 and Sept. 30, 2019 and was derived using data from spring 2020, just prior to the pandemic-related school closures that began in mid-March.

It combined three sources of data to formulate an “informed estimate” of where these children live. The first came from the , which had already examined where earlier groups of immigrants settled throughout the country. The second was the , which kept records on where unaccompanied children were placed with sponsors at the state and county level and the third was which gathers data on immigration proceedings throughout the country, collecting records from the departments of Justice and Homeland Security.

RAND found more than three-quarters of children who arrived with their families were under the age of 12 while 74 percent who came without a parent were between 15 and 17 years old.

Excluded from their study are the thousands of new immigrants who have crossed the border in the years since. Though the flow slowed during the pandemic, it skyrocketed upon news of Biden’s election. Persistent crime, political chaos and ongoing economic catastrophe, sometimes made worse by natural disasters, also played a role.

Some who were part of a massive encampment in Del Rio, Texas, have been admitted to the United States in recent weeks. Their arrival came around the same time that America welcomed thousands of newcomers from the Middle East, a trend that is expected to continue: Biden seeks to bring to the country through 2022.

The president just introduced new rules to for undocumented people brought to the United States as children and plans to admit next year, a figure that will no doubt include a sizable number of school-aged newcomers.

Ramos, the 17-year-old student from Oakland, hopes native-born Americans will reconsider old prejudices about the new arrivals.

“I’d ask them to be patient with us,” they said. “It’s not like we are dumb or something. It’s just there’s a language barrier. Give us a chance. Don’t think of us as aliens. We are people just like them who want a better life.”