Across Florida and beyond, the debate over how—and what—children learn in schools is heating up. On one side, supporters of school choice and innovative teaching methods tout the freedom and flexibility these programs offer families and educators. On the other, critics worry about oversight, accountability, and whether some students are being left behind. At the heart of the discussion are passionate teachers, engaged parents, and the ever-evolving needs of a diverse student body.
In Florida, the state’s popular school choice scholarship programs have come under fire in recent years. According to Florida Politics, critics initially raised eyebrows over parents using their flexible scholarship dollars for items like paddleboards—hardly what many would consider a traditional educational expense. But that argument lost steam after physical education instructors pointed out that paddleboards can be invaluable for special-needs children working on their balance. As one instructor explained, “It’s better to fall in water than on hard ground.” The point? Sometimes, what looks frivolous from the outside is actually tailored to a child’s unique needs.
Not to be deterred, opponents of the scholarships shifted gears, launching what Florida Politics described as a “hassle-the-parents” campaign. The new demand: require scholarship recipients to file monthly reports, essentially just confirming they want to remain in the program. Teacher unions and their allies argued that these reports were crucial to prevent the “double-counting” of students—an administrative headache that could, in theory, lead to funding errors. Yet, as some tech-savvy observers pointed out, a digital fix could easily address double-counting without burdening families with extra paperwork. Their message, echoing a famous band: “Hey, teacher unions—leave them kids’ parents alone!”
But perhaps the most curious criticism yet is the claim that too much money is sitting unspent in scholarship accounts. During a recent committee hearing, Senator Carlos Guillermo Smith complained, “Hundreds of millions of dollars have been sitting unspent in so-called scholarship accounts where they could have been funding our public schools.” At first glance, that sounds like a real problem. But, as William Mattox of The James Madison Institute explained, these aren’t permanently unused funds—they’re rollover dollars. Parents are saving them for future educational needs, knowing that costs often rise as children get older. This feature, Mattox argues, is actually a win for taxpayers. By allowing families to save, the program discourages schools from jacking up tuition and encourages parents to seek the best value for their children’s education. “Rollover freedom gives families an incentive to shop for K-12 education the same way they shop for everything else—seeking the highest possible quality at the lowest possible price,” Mattox wrote.
Some, like Mattox, even suggest expanding the idea. Why not let graduates use leftover funds to start a small business after high school? While critics may balk, supporters see it as just another way to empower families and reward efficiency. Whether lawmakers will take up the idea remains to be seen, but the conversation is far from over.
Meanwhile, in classrooms like Jesi Lehman’s at Celebration K-8 in Celebration, Florida, the focus is on making history come alive for students. Lehman, who teaches sixth- and eighth-graders, has developed a reputation for turning what could be dry lessons into vibrant, interactive experiences. “We’re learning about cave art as part of the lifestyles of the hunter-gatherers, and they’re getting to create their own art to make this come alive for them,” she told Spectrum News 13. Her goal? To help students not just memorize facts, but to truly enjoy learning and become lifelong learners.
Lehman believes that parental involvement is critical. She’s noticed a real difference when parents talk to their children at home about historical events. “This year alone, I have had so many kids come in and say, ‘My parents told me this’ or those stories about 9-Eleven,” she shared. “When parents show an interest in what their kids are doing, it really makes it come alive even more for them.” Lehman’s philosophy is rooted in the idea that understanding the past is key to creating informed citizens. “We have to create informed citizens,” she said. “I tell them all the time that we need to learn about the past or else we’re doomed to repeat the mistakes.”
But what should students be learning, and when? That’s a question Meaghan Townsend tackled in a recent piece for The 74, focusing on the importance of teaching Native American curriculum throughout K-12 education—not just as a one-off third-grade unit. Townsend recounted inviting Annawon Weeden, a Mashpee Wampanoag educator, to her Boston high school English class. Weeden’s visit underscored the gaps in how Native history is typically taught. In Massachusetts, for instance, Native history is often limited to Thanksgiving and a third-grade history lesson. But Weeden believes this isn’t nearly enough. “We need middle school curriculum. We need high school curriculum,” he told Townsend’s students. “It should be every year. The key is consistency.”
Weeden’s message resonated deeply, especially as he shared personal stories about the racism he faced as a child—most notably from teachers. “It was the teachers, not even the students, who called me the worst names,” Weeden recalled. He challenged students to question what they take for granted, asking, “Have you ever seen a square bird’s nest?” and using the classroom’s architecture as a springboard to discuss what’s considered ‘natural’ in society. His approach is a far cry from the bullying he endured, instead fostering curiosity and empathy.
Other states, Townsend noted, are leading the way. In Washington, tribes have helped revise state history standards so that Indigenous studies are included every year through the “Since Time Immemorial” curriculum. In the Southwest, Native culture is woven into daily life and education. “Why New England chooses to only promote colonial history…that’s something for New England to examine,” Weeden said. He expressed disappointment at being reduced to a Thanksgiving ‘token’ and advocated for a more inclusive, sustained approach. “A lot of what I was attacked for as a kid, it’s because people had no clue,” he reflected. “I wouldn’t have encountered that abuse if people were taught the right things about our culture.”
Townsend’s experience highlights the value of inviting Native speakers into classrooms and leveraging both paid and free resources to connect students with local tribes. She argues that until education about Indigenous peoples is consistent and inclusive, ignorance and cultural misunderstandings will persist.
From Florida’s scholarship controversies to classrooms striving for inclusion and engagement, the common thread is a community’s desire to help every child learn, grow, and thrive. Whether through innovative funding, interactive lessons, or a more inclusive curriculum, the future of education will be shaped by those willing to challenge the status quo and listen to the voices of students, parents, and educators alike.