Education

Hearing Kenny G live last week was one of the most memorable experiences I have ever had. His virtuosity and musicianship were incredible and truly inspiring. During the concert, Kenny G thanked the public school music education he received in high school, noting that without it, he would not have become the world-renowned musician he is today. His story resonated with me. As a fellow musician, I picked up the flute when I joined the middle school band and fell in love with making music in an ensemble; since then, I have gone on to make All-State Band all four years in high school. Through music, I learned the importance of teamwork, perseverance, and the ability to connect emotionally with different communities.

Currently, though, many of our public school music programs are in jeopardy. A national snapshot from the Arts Education Data Project estimates that about 3.6 million public school students attend schools without access to music education, and roughly 2.1 million are in schools with no arts education at all (dance, music, theatre, or visual arts). The Arts Education Data Project also found that students without access to the arts are disproportionately concentrated in schools with the highest shares of low-income students (Arts Education Data Project, 2022). In addition, the U.S. Department of Education reports arts teacher shortages in 16 states for the 2025–26 school year (Arts Education Policy Working Group, 2025). There is also a major disparity in funding between athletics and arts programs. A Pennsylvania analysis of district athletics spending found that total athletics expenses averaged about $845 per student-athlete in urban districts and about $1,030 per student-athlete in rural districts, which is roughly $500–600 more per student than in music programs (Foster & Mattern, 2020).

These numbers are not just statistics; they are missed opportunities for students' vital development. Music teaches collaboration, expression, and most importantly, humanity. It is about sticking with something hard, building discipline, connecting with others, and feeling like you belong. Research summarized by the Arts Education Policy Working Group links consistent high school arts participation to 32.3%–50.8% lower chronic absenteeism than those who do not, and a U.S. Department of Education review of Arts in Education programs also found better attendance, fewer disciplinary issues, and improved on-task behavior for students in arts programming (Arts Education Policy Working Group, 2025; U.S. Department of Education, 2022). All these benefits are why music students are more likely to attend college and pursue higher education than their non-music peers (Elpus, 2023).

Although many high school musicians may not go into music professionally, the training they received in middle school and high school shapes who they are, and the lessons they learn are invaluable for life. Therefore, I strongly urge U.S. public education policymakers to protect and expand funding for music education so that every student has access to high-quality arts programs, regardless of zip code.

Being a high school athlete, I hope to continue my love for the sport at the collegiate level.  However, this year, and for future generations of athletes across the country, opportunities are becoming increasingly limited due to the recent House vs. NCAA court decision.

The House vs. NCAA case began as a class-action antitrust lawsuit filed by Arizona State swimmer Grant House and Oregon basketball player Sedona Prince, who argued that the NCAA’s restrictions on sharing television and marketing revenues with athletes violated antitrust laws (CBS Sports, 2025). In April 2025, Judge Claudia Wilken gave the defendants 14 days to propose roster-limit rules, warning that hard cuts could leave nearly 5,000 athletes without places (CBS Sports, 2025). The settlement approved on June 6, 2025, requires schools to pay about $2.8 billion in back pay and permits each school to share up to $20.5 million per year with athletes (ESPN, 2025). Scholarship caps are gone, but sport-specific roster limits remain—swimming and diving programs can have only 30 athletes per gender (SwimSwam, 2024), and football rosters shrink to 105 players (CBS Sports, 2025). The agreement also directs an estimated 75 percent of future revenue to football players, 15 percent to men’s basketball, 5 percent to women’s basketball, and 5 percent to all other sports (CBS Sports, 2025). Administrators concede that most of the $20.5 million allowance will flow to football and men’s basketball, pointing to examples such as Texas quarterback Arch Manning’s $6.8 million NIL valuation (On3, 2025) and LSU star Flau’jae Johnson’s $1.5 million (On3, 2025).

On paper, schools have more flexibility in how they award scholarships. In practice, mid-major athletic departments operating on tight budgets are using the settlement to justify cutting non-revenue sports. At Cal Poly, officials cited a projected $500,000 annual settlement cost and eliminated the men’s and women’s swimming and diving programs (KSBY, 2025). The athletic director said the school would have to pay for “the transgressions of others” and announced roster cuts—football from 107 to 105 players and beach volleyball from 32 to 19 (KSBY, 2025). As the head volleyball coach admitted, asking athletes who still want to compete to leave “is going to be really, really rough” (KSBY, 2025). Cal Poly’s swimmers and divers are now fundraising privately in hopes of reinstating the program, and many recruits are scrambling for new homes. 

Cal Poly isn’t alone, other institutions are also cutting or consolidating programs. UTEP disbanded its women’s tennis team after more than four decades, citing rising costs and “upcoming changes to college athletics, including revenue sharing and roster caps” (AP, 2025). In June 2025, the University of Louisiana Monroe announced it would eliminate women’s tennis, and Washington State said it would consolidate its track and field program (Front Office Sports, 2025). A coalition of volleyball, wrestling, track, and swimming coaches noted that 32 Division I Olympic-sport programs had already been cut since the House settlement was announced (Front Office Sports, 2025). St. Francis College, facing the settlement’s financial obligations, chose to drop 22 Division I teams and move to Division III (AP, 2025). Even before final approval, coaches warned that diving teams and field events might be sacrificed to meet roster caps (Front Office Sports, 2025).

As a high school athlete, it’s disheartening to see how the House vs. NCAA settlement, intended to promote fairness, has created a zero‑sum game where non‑revenue sports suffer. College athletic departments are now channeling funds into revenue sports like football and basketball, paying athletes millions of dollars who already benefit from full scholarships at top institutions.  My recruiting class faces shrinking opportunities as roster limits force schools to turn away qualified swimmers, divers, runners, gymnasts, and some programs may disappear entirely. I believe individual college athletes should not be paid directly; instead, revenue from the games should go to the university and be used to support the underfunded athletic programs and facilities. If college sports are to remain a source of broad opportunities for all athletes, schools must find ways to share the windfall without gutting the very programs that make the NCAA one of the world’s greatest Olympic pipelines.

An article titled “From Practice to Pathways,” featured on the front cover of a recent issue of the Mensa Bulletin, caught my attention. The author, Dr. Fredrik Ullén, a Swedish neuroscientist and concert pianist, was awarded the Mensa Foundation Prize for his research on the connection between musical skill development and brain structure. 

Dr. Fredrik Ullén’s research, summarized in “From Practice to Pathways,” shows that disciplined musical practice physically reshapes the brain’s structure. Using diffusion MRI, Ullén’s team found that thousands of hours of piano practice thicken and lengthen white-matter tracts—the brain’s neural “highways” connecting regions responsible for movement, hearing, and executive control. This was clearly demonstrated in twin studies: when scanning the brains of monozygotic twins, who share the same genes and starting point, only the sibling who had trained intensively in music displayed more white and gray matter in auditory and motor regions, confirming that experience, not just genetics, drives the change. Yet Ullén also found that intelligence and motivation intertwine with practice: the very genes that nudge a child toward music lessons also influence cognitive ability and the perseverance required to keep practicing. In other words, talent, effort, and biology all build on each other.

Those findings should resonate far beyond the Mensa community because they arrive at a moment when music education is fighting for survival in U.S. public schools. Districts routinely funnel six‑ and seven‑figure sums into athletics facilities, uniforms, and travel. Meanwhile, music programs often scrape by with bake‑sale funds and booster‑club grants. One 2023 EdWeek survey reported that the average high‑school athlete enjoys more than triple the per‑student expenditure allotted to band or choir. The disparity is policy-driven: states mandate physical education credits for graduation and often tie community prestige to winning records, yet treat the arts as “enrichment,” vulnerable to the next budget shortfall. Ullén’s data flips that logic on its head. If sustained musical practice strengthens neural networks linked to reasoning, focus, and even IQ, then cutting band is a step backward in supporting students’ cognitive growth.

The consequences of neglecting skills that boost intellect and creativity are already visible. Cursive writing, a skill that combines fine motor ability with creative expression, has been removed from most state curricula since its exclusion from Common Core Standards in 2010, largely due to the push for test‑prep efficiency. Music education may soon become the next casualty. 

As someone who began studying piano at age four and later learned to play the flute and saxophone after joining the school band, music has not only helped me stay focused academically and improved my listening and collaborative skills, but has also served as an important emotional and creative outlet. Dr. Ullén’s research solidified what I have experienced firsthand: music education leads to a significant increase in white and grey matter, directly supporting the development of executive-function skills, which are essential for success in school and the workforce. Therefore, advocating the importance of music education is not just about preserving the arts; it is about investing in students’ cognitive, emotional, and social development. Rebalancing budgets is more than a cultural gesture; it is an investment in the brain development of millions of students. Every child deserves the opportunity to play an instrument or sing in a choir, not as an enrichment activity but as an essential part of a well-rounded education.

On April 15th, the Trump administration froze billions of dollars in long-term research grants to Harvard University after the school refused to release footage of on-campus pro-Palestinian protests and rejected government-mandated “audits” that would have dictated which programs and lines of inquiry it may pursue (The Harvard Crimson). Then, on May 22, the U.S. Department of Homeland Security (DHS) took an unprecedented step of moving to revoke Harvard's certification in the Student and Exchange Visitor Program (SEVP), a decision that threatens the university’s ability to sponsor visas for nearly 6,800 international students, who make up roughly 27% of its student body (Reuters; The Times). This escalation marked not just a political move but a direct challenge to the core principles of American higher education.

The policy shift drew quick and widespread criticism around the world, with many viewing it as an unprecedented overreach into academic freedom and international education. Top American universities are renowned for attracting the brightest students and scholars from around the world. At Harvard, International students play a vital role in strengthening academic programs,  advancing research, and enriching campus diversity. Many are high achievers, often recognized with honors like the Rhodes Scholarship, and contribute significantly to entrepreneurship by creating companies and generating jobs in the U.S. Removing SEVP certification risks a loss of top global talent, driving exceptional students to international competitors and ultimately shrinking the pool of skilled professionals in the American workforce.

Financially, international students generate considerable revenue, approximately $250 million annually for Harvard alone, helping to fund university programs and local economies and provide financial aid for underprivileged American students (Harvard Fact Book). Therefore, revoking Harvard's ability to enroll international students would not only jeopardize its academic and financial strength but also undermine its contributions to social mobility, innovation, and America’s global leadership in higher education. 

As someone of mixed heritage attending an international school, I have experienced firsthand the value that diversity brings to education. Meeting peers and friends from different parts of the world has opened my eyes to a wide range of languages, religions, and cultures. This extensive exposure has broadened my worldview, deepened my understanding of global issues, and most importantly, helped me embrace differences with openness and empathy.

Education is fundamentally about exposure to different perspectives, and I believe it is nearly impossible to achieve a truly meaningful education without learning alongside people from diverse backgrounds and cultures. America became great by embracing foreign-born talents from around the world, and Harvard would not be Harvard without its international student body. As the great American poet Walt Whitman celebrates in Song of Myself, democracy thrives when all voices are heard and differences are not just accepted but celebrated. It is the grassroots responsibility of every American citizen to protect the freedom of American education, where diverse ideas meet, contradictions are embraced, and every voice is heard, in order to preserve the open exchange of knowledge that drives innovation, democracy, and global leadership.

Last Friday, my school announced a major policy change for the upcoming school year: all students will be required to use identical MacBook Air laptops provided by the school. This announcement immediately sparked intense debate among my peers. 

On one hand, the benefits of standardizing devices are clear. Uniformity simplifies technical support and ensures that all students have equal access to the necessary tools, helping to level the playing field. Consistent technology can also make classroom learning more efficient, as teachers can design lessons around a single platform, eliminating compatibility issues and reducing confusion. Collaboration would likely improve as well, with fewer barriers between devices during group projects and shared assignments. Additionally, standardized laptops may help minimize distractions, as school-issued devices can be more closely monitored to prevent students from gaming or losing focus during class. 

However, many of us believe that implementing a single-device policy ultimately does more harm than good. One of the biggest concerns is the loss of flexibility. Students would no longer be able to choose a device that best fits their personal needs and learning styles. This limits both freedom and creativity in how technology is used as a learning tool. For nearly half the student body, switching to a Mac would mean learning an entirely new operating system, taking up valuable time that could be better spent on schoolwork. In addition, this single-device policy does not accommodate the diverse demands of our coursework. Some students require high-performance laptops for specialized tasks such as graphic design, video editing, or programming, while others only need basic software for assignments. Finally, relying on a single technology provider does not prepare students for the realities of college or the workplace, where they will be expected to adapt to a wide range of devices, systems, and platforms. By limiting that exposure now, the school may unintentionally hinder our readiness for the diverse digital environments we will encounter beyond graduation.

Looking beyond our school, similar policies have been implemented all across the nation with mixed results. According to a report from Education Week, schools that adopt standardized technology experience greater efficiency in lesson delivery and enhanced equality among students, helping to reduce socioeconomic disparities in access to digital resources. However, an analysis from EdSurge raised important concerns. It found that removing personal choice in technology can decrease student engagement and stifle creativity. Personal devices often serve as a form of self-expression, and when students are allowed to use tools that align with their preferences, it can deepen their connection to the learning process.

While this decision does come with certain advantages, I think the school should have sought student input before finalizing it. Many of us are frustrated by the lack of student voice in important administrative decisions that directly affect our learning experience. In my opinion, the school should implement a transition period to gradually introduce this policy across grade levels, giving students time to adapt. Striking a balance between uniformity and personalized learning will be essential to making this technological shift successful.

On March 20, 2025, President Donald Trump signed an executive order initiating the dismantling of the U.S. Department of Education, aiming to shift educational authority back to states and local communities. This policy shift has ignited heated debates and widespread protests across an already deeply divided nation. As a high school student, I wonder how this decision will impact the quality and fairness of education nationwide and what it means for my own educational journey.

One potential benefit of this policy shift is that by returning educational authority back to states and local communities, policies can be more responsive to the unique needs of each community, allowing for tailored solutions to specific regional challenges (New York Post, 2025). Another possible benefit is the anticipated expansion of school choice, letting families pick the schools that work best for their kids—whether that is a charter school, a private institution, or homeschooling. With more options, schools might start pushing to improve, which could make the overall quality of education better for everyone (Heritage Foundation, 2025).  In addition, cutting back federal bureaucracy could free up funds currently tied up in administration, allowing more resources to go directly to classrooms, teachers, and students (Cato Institute, 2025). As a student, the idea of more money going straight to where learning actually happens instead of being stuck in paperwork makes a lot of sense to me. 

However, there are some serious risks that come with getting rid of federal oversight in education. One big concern is that without the Department of Education, existing inequalities could get even worse—especially for low-income communities that rely on Title I funding to support their schools (Beaumont Enterprise, 2025). Without that help, the gap between wealthy and struggling districts might grow even wider. There’s also the worry about civil rights protections. The Department of Education has historically helped enforce laws that protect students from discrimination based on race, gender, or disability. Without a strong central system, those protections might not be applied equally across all states (Associated Press, 2025). Finally, there is still a lot of confusion surrounding federal student aid. During the press conference where President Trump announced the dismantling of the Department of Education, it remained unclear who would take over programs like Pell Grants. For millions of students who depend on that money to go to college, this kind of uncertainty makes an already stressful process feel even more uncertain and out of reach. As someone who will be applying to college soon and will need some form of financial help, I am worried about what this means for my own future.

Although this policy change may bring a few positive outcome and a sense of fresh air to our educational system, the lack of oversight in how the funding will be distributed, the uncertainty around which department will manage the Pell Grants program, and the laying off of thousands of dedicated employees who spent their careers working for the Department of Education make me question whether the costs of this decision outweigh the benefits.

In December, I was invited to attend a meeting about my school’s direction and assist in its strategic planning over the next two decades. I have always been someone they consult on matters related to the school’s administration. As a member of the school since Pre-K, I have watched it change before my eyes. I believe I have valuable feedback and recommendations to offer for the strategic plan.

During the meeting, one of the first topics brought up was the growing number of students at our school which I would like to address in this blog. There are many positives to this expansion. First, it allows international students from varying cultures and backgrounds who would have initially been rejected to be admitted to the school. This enriches the multicultural environment and exposes the student body to different cultures, religions, and beliefs. Another benefit of expansion is that more students bring in more funding for the school, enabling the construction of new facilities—such as additional classrooms, science labs, and community spaces.

However, expansion comes with drawbacks. An increased student population can diminish the sense of community my school once prided itself on. I remember when I was younger, everyone knew everyone else, which created a tighter-knit student body and more unified grade. But with larger grade sizes, people have split off into friend groups and rarely mix with others, creating polarization and limiting positive relationships within each grade level. Although expansion has allowed for the construction of new facilities to promote intellectual curiosity—like a maker space and new science labs—it has also left existing programs, such as the arts, underfunded. I believe these established programs should have more priority rather than rushing to add new facilities. In addition, each grade level still has the same number of classes and teachers, leading to increased class sizes. This limits one-on-one interactions with teachers and prevents individuals from fully participating in discussions and active engagement.

My suggestion for resolving this issue is to either set a strict limit on the maximum number of students or hire additional teachers, ensuring that every student receives a comprehensive education and fully benefits from the school's offerings.