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Freedom Isn't Free if You Can't Read

The Right to Read is the Right to Be Fee

KCSD administrators in Montgomery, Alabama—visiting the Legacy Museum and reflecting deeply on the history of slavery, the roots of systemic injustice, and the role of education in confronting bias and building a more equitable future for all students.
KCSD administrators in Montgomery, Alabama—visiting the Legacy Museum and reflecting deeply on the history of slavery, the roots of systemic injustice, and the role of education in confronting bias and building a more equitable future for all students.

Each year on the Fourth of July, Americans gather to celebrate the birth of our nation, the moment in 1776 when the Declaration of Independence was signed and the colonies declared their freedom from British rule. We celebrate the ideals of liberty, justice, and equality. But as we commemorate this important milestone, we must also remember that not everyone in the newly formed United States was free.


When those words "all men are created equal” were penned, slavery still existed. Women lacked autonomy and the right to vote. Indigenous peoples were being systematically displaced. True freedom was not yet a reality for many. Slavery would persist for nearly another century, and the legacies of that oppression continue to shape our systems today, including education.


Last year, I had the privilege of traveling to Montgomery, Alabama with colleagues to visit The Legacy Museum and the National Memorial for Peace and Justice. It was a profound, sobering experience, one that impacted me both personally and professionally. One exhibit, in particular, left a lasting impression: the role of literacy in control and oppression.

During slavery, teaching an enslaved person to read was illegal in many Southern states. For example:

  • In South Carolina, a 1740 law made it a crime to teach enslaved people to write.

  • In Alabama, it was illegal after 1832 to teach any person of color to read or write.

  • In Virginia, those who taught enslaved people to read could face imprisonment or heavy fines.

Even after emancipation, literacy continued to be weaponized. Black Americans faced “literacy tests” to vote, tests so convoluted and arbitrary that even a well-educated person might fail. One infamous example from Louisiana asked voters to:


“Write every other word in this sentence and capitalize the third word.”


Failure to answer every question correctly resulted in being denied the right to vote. These tests weren’t about reading ability, they were about exclusion. Literacy was wielded as a gatekeeper to civil rights, economic opportunity, and full participation in American life.


Fast forward to 2025: literacy is still, in many ways, a gatekeeper.

The most recent results from the National Assessment of Educational Progress (NAEP) revealed a troubling trend, declines in reading performance across the country, particularly among students from low-income backgrounds and historically marginalized communities. The very populations most in need of strong, evidence-based reading instruction are often the ones receiving the least.

This isn’t just a data point. It’s a warning.


In classrooms that used a balanced literacy model, reading instruction often leaned heavily on students’ background knowledge and experiences to make meaning from texts. But what happens when a student hasn't had the same exposure to language, books, and conversation at home? When is their vocabulary limited through no fault of their own?


I’ve worked in high-performing districts where balanced literacy seemed to work. Students passed benchmarks, and test scores were respectable. But in districts with greater poverty, where students came in with less background knowledge, the model began to crack. Same curriculum, same instructional methods, but vastly different outcomes. It became too easy to assume the difference was the students.


It wasn’t.


And that false belief—that some kids “just can’t”—has fueled overrepresentation in special education and underrepresentation in honors courses for generations.


I am here to say: That narrative is wrong.


All children—regardless of race, income, zip code, or language—can learn to read. With the right instruction, grounded in the science of reading, all students can succeed.


A second-grade teacher was telling me about a moment in her class where a student demonstrated true understanding and deep learning. It was January, and the class was studying Martin Luther King Jr. A student raised his hand and made a connection to Confucius, a historical figure the class had learned about months earlier. That wasn’t a surface-level comment. It was deep, flexible thinking. That is what happens when students are empowered with knowledge and vocabulary and taught how to think and read critically.


As Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. once said, “No one is free until we are all free.”

Poverty is not destiny. Literacy is the great equalizer. It is the foundation for civic participation, economic mobility, and self-determination. And yet, we know that reading failure is tightly linked to the school-to-prison pipeline. Nearly 85% of youth in the juvenile justice system are functionally illiterate. In adult prisons, 70% of inmates struggle to read.


That is not freedom.


So this Fourth of July, as we wave flags and watch fireworks, let’s also recommit ourselves to a deeper vision of liberty. One where every child has the opportunity to become a confident, competent reader. Where literacy is not a privilege, but a promise.


Because freedom is not just about independence. It’s about access. It’s about equity. And it’s about ensuring that no child is left behind—not in reading, and not in life.


Happy Independence Day! And here’s to building a nation where everyone can read, thrive, and truly be free.


See you next Sunday!

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