(Editor’s note: This is Part 1 of a 4-part series on economic injustice. In this first post, Terence Lester exposes the spiritual and systemic crisis of “educational redlining” and calls the church to defend the futures of marginalized students. We will be rolling out the companion pieces over the coming weeks.)
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In 1963, James Baldwin shared a very important line in his article “A Talk to Teachers”[1] that I believe is still reverberating through the portals of time, speaking directly to our present moment when it comes to education and the recent political decisions that have rolled back support and dismantled protections for students who come from impoverished, redlined communities like mine, communities that are hard to navigate and often lack the necessary support and resources needed to overcome limitations.
To know that both the Supreme Court’s decisions and the current administration’s decisions will impact future scholars disturbs me in ways that breaks my heart deeply. Baldwin says,
“For these are all our children; we will all profit by, or pay for, whatever they become.”[2]
Baldwin’s words help frame what we are seeing with the recent shifts in the way education has been handled over the last few years. And since we often hear about these shifts in passing or read articles that don’t fully connect the dots, I believe it is helpful to see them laid out in a chart to understand their connectivity, intersection, and impact in real time. This way, we can see clearly that these aren’t exaggerations or hyperbole but decisions with tangible consequences, effects that should move us toward awareness, empathy, and action.
Here is a timeline of events that helps us understand these shifts and what they actually mean for Black students who live in communities shaped by the long history of redlining, communities affected both in terms of housing and education.
Timeline of Key Education Policies Affecting Black Students
What we are witnessing is not simply budget trimming. It is a decision that could possibly impact the dreams and potential of students long before they even have an opportunity to flourish in their lived environments, let alone in higher educational spaces.
Therefore, when Baldwin places the future of students on us as a collective, he is essentially saying that the dreams of students rest upon the work we put in to ensure they can access them. This is not about policy abstractions but about the deliberate harm caused to Black students who are dependent on supports that strengthen their educational futures.
Take, for instance, students who face poverty in urban settings, may be experiencing social conditions that are detrimental to their development, and also have to deal with the personal pressures as a result of their redlined communities. I call this educational redlining.
I define educational redlining as the systemic practice of underfunding schools based on the wealth of their surrounding neighborhoods, which are themselves shaped by the legacy of housing redlining.
Because public schools in the United States are funded largely through local property taxes, schools in historically redlined and disinvested communities receive fewer resources, outdated materials, and less support staff, while schools in wealthier and often whiter districts benefit from higher per-student funding and stronger infrastructure.
This practice locks Black and Brown students into a cycle of limited opportunity, reinforcing intergenerational poverty and perpetuating gaps in college access, career preparation, and upward social mobility.[11] [12]
I know this because I was that student. I grew up in a single-parent household, watching my mother struggle as she navigated not having enough, and I felt the pain and weight of the environment with all the systemic barriers that shaped why I struggled in school. I remember sitting in classrooms where the lesson had nothing to do with what I was experiencing—poverty, instability, and the fear of not knowing how to manage the trauma I carried to school each day.
Those pressures did not just affect my grades; they weighed on my spirit and how I saw myself. It got so heavy internally that I eventually dropped out of high school and experienced brief moments of homelessness as a teenager after running away from home.
Now think about students today facing the same challenges. They are growing up with food insecurity, housing instability, and environments filled with stress, yet they are still expected to perform academically as if those realities do not exist. That disconnect is not only unfair but also traumatizing. Poverty itself becomes a form of trauma that shapes how you see yourself, your future, and even your worth.
And here is the part too many policymakers ignore: Those barriers do not stop at K–12. They carry into higher education. Students from impoverished families face structural hurdles in affording application fees, accessing test prep resources, navigating FAFSA, or even finding mentors who can walk them through the process.
Research shows first-generation Black students are less likely to graduate, not because of ability, but because of systemic inequities like lack of financial aid, hostile campus climates, and gatekeeping in admissions.[13]
For students who are unhoused or food insecure, these barriers multiply. When you do not know where you will sleep or how you will eat, finishing a degree becomes a near-impossible mountain. It may not even part of the conversations you have with those around you, because survival replaces dreams of college.
I know this personally. When I returned to school, I had to navigate not only the classroom but also the weight of being a fifth-year persister (a fifth-year senior), the shame of dropout status, and the lack of belief from educators who labeled me. I was not even thinking about a future in college.
That journey required community intervention and faith, but it should not require a miracle to access education. I eventually overcame many of the challenges I faced with the support of my community and earned a PhD. However, I recognize that my story is a rarity, and that shouldn’t be the case.
For instance, did you know that over 1.4 million students nationwide currently rely on protections under the McKinney Vento Act, protections now threatened by proposals to eliminate dedicated EHCY funding and fold it into broader block grants? Removing that dedicated funding would decimate essential supports like homelessness liaisons, transportation, and enrollment assistance, which are critical for keeping students in school.[14] [15]
Does this bother you? Does it break your heart the way it does mine? Do you think it breaks the heart of Jesus? When I reread Matthew 9, where it says that Jesus was moved with compassion because people were weary and hopeless, like sheep without a shepherd, I can’t help but reimagine that verse in the context of education today.
Students are weary because of a lack of funding, lack of school lunches, lack of housing, lack of clothing, lack of support teachers, and all the other things that funding cuts take away.
“When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, ‘The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.’” (Matt. 9:36–37, NRSV)
These are not just numbers on a spreadsheet. They are real students, carrying the weight of poverty and instability, often showing up to school with all they own in a backpack. They want to learn, but they have to navigate hardships that no policy safety net has ever fully addressed. Funding shifts to cut protections like equitable access to college, IDEA, McKinney-Vento, and Title I are not just policy debates. They are moral decisions about whose futures we believe are worth protecting.
Theologically, this should matter to those who follow the teachings of Jesus. As James Cone reminded us,
“Any talk about God that fails to make God’s liberation of the oppressed its starting point is not Christian.”[16]
If people claim to follow Jesus yet withhold support from the vulnerable, I believe they have missed the story and the good news. Isaiah calls us to “seek justice, correct oppression”[17], not to stand by while students lose more ground. Particularly in a moment when the federal Department of Education is being downsized and its authority contested, we must remember that historically marginalized students rely heavily on those protections. Educational justice is biblical justice.
So when I talk about cutting futures, I am not just speaking as an advocate. I am speaking as someone who almost lost his own future and dreams because of everything I had to overcome. The barriers that once stood in my way— poverty, lack of support, and systemic disinvestment—are the same barriers being reinforced for students today.
But now there is even less of a safety net. I believe that if we do not act, we are complicit in producing another generation of students who drop out, when we should be cultivating doctors, teachers, thinkers, innovators, servant leaders, and people who will change this world for good.
The work is urgent. Baldwin was right:
“For these are all our children; we will all profit by, or pay for, whatever they become.”[18]
Let’s commit to advocate for different outcomes and futures.
References:
[1] James Baldwin, A Talk to Teachers, October 16, 1963, Zinn Education Project (accessed September 4, 2025).
[2]*A powerful quote from James Baldwin’s iconic 1963 speech, “A Talk to Teachers” James Baldwin, “A Talk to Teachers,” 1963.
[3] U.S. Department of Education and U.S. Department of Justice. “Dear Colleague” Letter Rescinding 2014 Nondiscriminatory Administration of School Discipline Guidance. December 21, 2018. See also the 2014 guidance now marked rescinded.
[4] PEN America. Banned in the USA: The Mounting Pressure to Censor (2021–2022). New York: PEN America, 2022. See also updates in Banned in the USA: Book Bans 2023–2024. PEN America, 2024
[5] Students for Fair Admissions, Inc. v. President and Fellows of Harvard College and Students for Fair Admissions, Inc. v. University of North Carolina, slip opinion, 600 U.S. ___ (June 29, 2023). Supreme Court of the United States, PDF.
[6] National Education Association. “Educators Protect Students’ Freedom to Read.” September 28, 2023.
[7] Ray, Rashawn, and Alexandra Gibbons. “Why Are States Banning Critical Race Theory?” Brookings Institution, July 2, 2021.
[8] Education Week. “Not Just Title IX: How the Chevron Decision Could Affect Education Regulations.” July 25, 2024.
[9] U.S. Department of Education, “U.S. Department of Education Initiates Reduction in Force,” March 11, 2025, press release.
[10] Eric Katz, “Education Dept. Can Proceed with Mass Layoffs After Supreme Court Ruling,” Government Executive, July 14, 2025.
[11] EdWorkingPapers. Johnson, Andrew, et al. The Lingering Legacy of Redlining on School Funding, Diversity, and Performance. Cambridge, MA: EdWorkingPapers, 2021.
[12] Lincoln Institute of Land Policy. The Property Tax–School Funding Dilemma. Cambridge, MA: Lincoln Institute, 2010.
[13] Christina T. Laurencin, “Impact of Finances on the Educational Pipeline,” in The State of Anti-Black Racism in U.S. Higher Education(Washington, DC: National Academies Press, 2022).
[14] Brookings Institution. “Budget Cuts Threaten Federal Protections for Homeless Students.” Brookings, July 21, 2025.
[15] National Center for Homeless Education. Education for Homeless Children and Youth Program Profile (Washington, DC: U.S. Department of Education, October 2023).
[16] James H. Cone, A Black Theology of Liberation (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 1970).
[17] Isaiah 1:17, New Revised Standard Version.
[18] James Baldwin, A Talk to Teachers, speech, October 16, 1963
Dr. Terence Lester is a storyteller, public scholar, community activist, and author. He founded Love Beyond Walls, a nonprofit committed to raising awareness about poverty and homelessness, and teaches public policy and social change at Simmons College of Kentucky. His latest book, From Dropout to Doctorate: Breaking the Chains of Educational Injustice (IVP, 2025), traces his journey from high school dropout to PhD and issues a bold call for equity. Through his life and writing, he uses narrative, policy insight, and faith to challenge systems that leave people invisible and to inspire practical change.
