The governor can and should reform teacher-prep programs, a hotbed of progressive ideology, in his state and provide a template for the nation on how to do so.
The governor can and should reform teacher-prep programs, a hotbed of progressive ideology, in his state and provide a template for the nation on how to do so.
L ast month, Governor Ron DeSantis signed Florida House Bill 1291 to prohibit teacher-prep programs from grounding themselves in “theories that systemic racism, sexism, oppression, and privilege are inherent in the institutions of the United States.” It goes into effect July 1 and sets up DeSantis to bludgeon the University of Florida’s school of education like he did K–12 public schools and Disney.
If DeSantis swings this sledgehammer, it could represent the most significant, state-level education reform since Scott Walker used Act 10 to kneecap the unions over a decade ago. As I’ve stressed in National Review a number of times, university teacher-prep programs are the primary source of the ubiquitous progressivism in American schools. Critical race theory, gender ideology, teachers treating their lectern like a political pulpit — it all makes its way into the classroom via schools of education.
Recent conservative legislation overlooks this reality. When governors ban the instruction of concepts, it’s all too easy for advocates to shift language such that today’s “diversity, equity, and inclusion” could be tomorrow’s “belonging, compassion, and understanding.” Similarly, while school-choice laws are a welcome structural change, if personnel is policy — and all school personnel go through reeducation programs at universities — then any parent or family looking to choose a non-woke, non-progressive school will have few actual choices.
A recent report from Boise State University professor Scott Yenor reveals that the teacher-prep program at the University of Florida is subject to the same ideological capture as others. In 2020, the program removed a number of classes that focused on the practicalities of instruction such as classroom management or core teaching strategies to instead implement a four-course series on “equity pedagogy.”
Throughout, course readings betray a near obsession with “critical pedagogy,” a theory of education where schools are transformed from traditional academic training grounds to institutions of social change. Teachers are not pedagogues but change agents, there to raise the “critical consciousness” of their students and spur them toward activism and advocacy.
Course readings include Kimberlé Crenshaw (a founding scholar of critical race theory), Peggy McIntosh (who coined the term “white privilege”), Gloria Ladson-Billings (her most notable academic achievement was the introduction of CRT into educational discourse in the 1990s), and countless books and articles on gender, critical race theory, whiteness theory, and other progressive neuroses.
Notably lacking is anything on instruction, curriculum, or behavior management. Instead, it’s a glorified degree in progressive views on race and gender masquerading as a bachelor’s program for teachers. This reality means that come July 1, the University of Florida will run afoul of the legislation and risk decertification. With Ben Sasse at the helm of the university, DeSantis could create a model for conservatives across the country interested in reforming these institutions.
The governor and Sasse have several potential courses of action to build on this legislation.
First, they could dismantle the school of education at the University of Florida. Such an action is not without precedent. The University of Chicago shut down its school of education in 1997, with the New York Times describing its scholarship as “unworthy of Chicago’s standards” and “too costly to correct.”
Instead, DeSantis could continue a policy path that Jeb Bush began, funding alternative training programs and easing licensure regulations. Many programs, such as Teach For America, or pathways that ease the licensure for teacher aides and other school personnel have produced educators with equal or even better outcomes than traditional schools of education.
Second, Sasse could modify UF’s school of education to refocus it on practical training. Florida’s House Bill 1291 includes the provision that schools of education “must afford candidates the opportunity to think critically, achieve mastery of academic program content, learn instructional strategies, and demonstrate competence.”
There’s an abundance of teacher training manuals and research on practical instructional techniques that could fill syllabi instead of esoteric readings on Marxist educational theory. Moreover, UF’s newly established Hamilton Center could include an institute on liberal-arts education for creating a corps of teachers trained in the theories of classical education to staff schools, administrations, curriculum companies, and other educational institutions. Change the personnel; change the policy.
Finally, DeSantis and Sasse could entirely reconstruct teacher education as we know it. As I detailed at length in the recent issue of National Affairs, teachers who attend traditional teacher-prep programs perform no better than alternatively licensed or even unlicensed teachers. Only experience and content knowledge improve instructional quality. Following such evidence, they could remake teacher prep entirely. Instead of asking undergrads to huddle together for seminars in university basements to talk about theory, put a greater emphasis on the practicum and student teaching.
Schools of education are one of the most noxious forces in American education — rivaling even the unions — while teachers are the most important school-level factor for student academic success. Whichever route is chosen, if he reforms the University of Florida, Governor Ron DeSantis may very well reform schools across the Sunshine State — and be a model for governors across the country to follow.