June 2, 2025, by Dean Hoke: In the ongoing debate about the future of higher education, small colleges are often overlooked—yet they are indispensable. On May 21st, Higher Education Digest published my article, “Small Colleges Are Essential to American Higher Education,” in which I make the case for why these institutions remain vital to our national educational fabric.
Small colleges may not grab headlines, but they provide transformative experiences, especially for first-generation students, rural communities, and those seeking a deeply personal education. As financial pressures mount and demographic shifts continue, it’s easy to underestimate the impact of these campuses—but doing so comes at a cost. These schools are not only educators; they are regional economic engines, community partners, and laboratories for innovation.
In the article, I outline key reasons why we need to support and strengthen small colleges, including their unique role in economic development, workforce provider, and civic engagement. I also explore the consequences of neglecting this sector and what we can do about it.
I hope you’ll take a few minutes to read the whole piece and share it with your colleagues and networks. Read the article here.
As always, I welcome your thoughts and reflections.
Dean Hoke is Managing Partner of Edu Alliance Group, a higher education consultancy. He formerly served as President/CEO of the American Association of University Administrators (AAUA). With decades of experience in higher education leadership, consulting, and institutional strategy, he brings a wealth of knowledge on small colleges’ challenges and opportunities. Dean is the Executive Producer and co-host for the podcast series Small College America.
Last week, the Trump administration’s draft executive order to integrate artificial intelligence (AI) into K-12 schools made national headlines. The order, still in flux, would direct federal agencies to embed AI in classrooms and partner with private companies to create new educational programs. The move comes as China, Singapore and other nations ramp up their AI education initiatives, fueling talk of a new “AI space race.” But as the world’s biggest players push for rapid adoption, the real question for American education isn’t whether AI is coming — it’s who will shape its role in our schools, and on whose terms.
AI is not simply the next classroom gadget or software subscription. It represents a fundamentally new kind of disruptor in the education space — one that doesn’t just supplement public education but is increasingly building parallel systems alongside it. These AI-powered platforms, often funded by public dollars through vouchers or direct-to-consumer models, can operate outside the traditional oversight and values of public schools. The stakes are high: AI is already influencing what counts as education, who delivers it and how it is governed.
This transformation is happening fast. For example, in the Los Angeles Unified School District (LAUSD) the district’s ambitious “AI friend” chatbot project, meant to support students and families, collapsed when its startup partner folded, exposing the risks of investing public funds in untested AI ventures. Meanwhile, major tech firms are pitching AI as a “tutor for every learner and a TA for every teacher,” promising to personalize learning and free up educators’ time. The reality is more complex: AI’s promise is real, but so are its pitfalls, especially when it bypasses local voices and democratic control.
The rise of AI in education is reshaping three core principles: agency, accountability and equity.
Agency: Traditionally, public education has empowered teachers, students and communities to shape learning. Now, AI platforms — sometimes chosen by parents or delivered through private providers — can shift decision-making from classrooms to opaque algorithms. Teachers may find themselves implementing AI-generated lessons, while students’ learning paths are increasingly set by proprietary systems. If local educators and families aren’t at the table, agency risks becoming fragmented and individualized, eroding the collective mission of public schooling.
Accountability: In public schools, accountability means clear lines of responsibility and public oversight. But when AI tools misclassify students or private micro-schools underperform, it’s unclear who is answerable: the vendor, the parent, the state, or the algorithm? This diffusion of responsibility can undermine public trust and make it harder to ensure quality and fairness.
Equity: AI has the potential to personalize learning and expand access, but its benefits often flow unevenly. Wealthier families and districts are more likely to access cutting-edge tools, while under-resourced students risk being left behind. As AI-powered platforms grow outside of traditional systems, the risk is that public funds flow to private, less accountable alternatives, deepening educational divides.
It’s tempting to see AI as an unstoppable force, destined to either save or doom public education. But that narrative misses the most important variable: us. AI is not inherently good or bad. Its impact will depend on how — and by whom — it is implemented.
The U.S. education system’s greatest strength is its tradition of local control and community engagement. As national and global pressures mount, local leaders — school boards, district administrators, teachers, and parents — must drive how AI is used. That means:
Demanding transparency from vendors about how AI systems work and how data is used.
Prioritizing investments in teacher training and professional development, so educators can use AI as a tool for empowerment, not replacement.
Insisting that AI tools align with local values and needs, rather than accepting one-size-fits-all solutions from distant tech companies or federal mandates.
Building coalitions across districts and states to share expertise and advocate for policies that center agency, accountability, and equity.
As Dallas schools Superintendent Stephanie Elizalde put it, “It’s irresponsible to not teach (AI). We have to. We are preparing kids for their future”. But preparing students for the future doesn’t mean ceding control to algorithms or outside interests. It means harnessing AI’s potential while holding fast to the public values that define American education.
The choices we make now — especially at the local level — will determine whether AI becomes a tool for equity and empowerment, or a force for further privatization and exclusion. Policymakers should focus less on top-down mandates and more on empowering local communities to lead. AI can strengthen public education, but only if we ensure that the people closest to students — teachers, families and local leaders — have the authority and resources to shape its use.
The world is changing fast. Let’s make sure our schools change on our terms.
The opinions expressed in this commentary represent those of the author. EdSource welcomes commentaries representing diverse points of view. If you would like to submit a commentary, please review our guidelines and contact us.
He’s using the White House to get rich from anonymous investors—and it’s hardly even a news story.
Imagine that Joe Biden, just as he was assuming office, had started a new company with Hunter Biden and used his main social media account to recruit financial backers, then promised that the most generous among them would earn an invitation to a private dinner with him. Oh, and imagine that these investors were all kept secret from the public, so that we had no idea what kinds of possible conflicts of interest might arise.
Samuel Corum/Sipa/Bloomberg/Getty Images
Take a minute, close your eyes. Let yourself see Jim Jordan’s face go purple in apoplexy, hear the moral thunder spewing out of Jesse Watters’s mouth, feel the shock (which would be wholly justified) of the New York Times editorial board as it expressed disbelief that the man representing the purported values and standards of the United States of America before the world would begin to think it was remotely OK to do such a thing. The media would be able to speak of nothing else for days. Maybe weeks.
Yet this and more is what Donald Trump just did, and unless you follow the news quite closely, it’s possible you’ve not even heard about it. Or if you have, it was probably in passing, one of those second-tier, “this is kind of interesting” headlines. But it’s a lot more than that. As Democratic Senator Chris Murphy noted Wednesday: “This isn’t Trump just being Trump. The Trump coin scam is the most brazenly corrupt thing a President has ever done. Not close.”
Trump announced this week that the top 220 buyers of his $Trump (strump, as in strumpet) meme coin between now and mid-May will be invited to an exclusive dinner on May 22 (“a night to remember”) at his golf club outside Washington, D.C. The Washington Post and other outlets have reported that in the days since the announcement, “buyers have poured tens of millions of dollars” into the coin; further, that the holders of 27 crypto wallets have acquired at least 100,000 coins apiece, “stakes worth about a million dollars each.” Holders of crypto wallets are anonymous, if they want to be, so the identities of these people (or businesses or countries or sovereign wealth funds or whatever they might be) are unknown and will presumably remain so until the big dinner or, who knows, maybe for all time.
It’s also worth noting that Trump launched this meme coin just a few days before inauguration. Its value quickly shot up to around $75. It steadily declined through the first month of his presidency, and by early April, as Americans grew weary of a president who was tanking the economy, it had fallen to $7.14.
Mind you, a meme coin is a thing with no intrinsic value. It’s just some … thing that somebody decides to launch based on hype because they can get a bunch of suckers to invest in it. As Investopedia gingerly puts it: “Most meme coins are usually created without a use case other than being tradable and convertible.” It should come as no surprise that some meme coins are tied to right-wing politics. Elon Musk named his Department of Government Efficiency after his favorite meme coin, dogecoin (which, in turn, was indeed named after an actual internet memein which doge is slang for a Shiba Inu dog).
So, to go back to my opening analogy—this isn’t even like Joe and Hunter Biden starting a company from the White House. A company is a real thing. It makes a product or provides a service. It files papers with the Securities and Exchange Commission. It pays taxes. It employs people. Assuming that it’s a good corporate citizen and that it exists at least in part to solve some problem or offer the public some innovation, it contributes to the general welfare.
Not so a meme coin. It’s just a hustle. It may make certain investors rich, but it does the world no good whatsoever.
So stop and think about this. First, Trump, preparing for the presidency, purportedly busy thinking about how many millions of people he’s going to deport and how he’s going to bring “Jina” to its knees and how he’s going to hand eastern Ukraine to Putin and how he’s going to cut Meals on Wheels, for Chrissakes, takes time out from all that to stop and think: Now, how can I profit from returning to the White House? So he launches, naturally, the griftiest Christmas present ever.
It starts out great. Then its value drops by 90 percent. So in April, while he’s illegally deporting legal U.S. residents to El Salvador and roiling the world’s financial markets, he stops and takes the time to think: Hey, what happened with my meme coin? I had better figure out a way to goose this grift. So he comes up with this dinner. As well as showing just how tawdry his mind is, how he just automatically and intrinsically thinks it’s his right to make a buck from the presidency, it’s unspeakably corrupt. (One small silver lining here is that after peaking Wednesday at almost $15, it’s now under $12.)
Who knows who these “investors” are? Will we ever know? Inevitably, on May 22, people will be invited to that dinner. Will we know the guest list? Will the list be sanitized? Will a few Russian oligarchs be among the top 220 but send surrogates to keep their identity hidden?
This doesn’t create the “appearance” of corruption or set up the “potential” for conflict of interest. It is corruption, and it’s a standing conflict of interest. Patently, and historically. Chris Murphy is right: This is the most corrupt thing any president has ever done, by a mile.
What are the others? Watergate? It was awful in different ways, but of course Trump is worse than Richard Nixon in all those ways too. Teapot Dome? Please—a tiny little rigged contract, and it didn’t even involve Warren Harding directly, just his interior secretary. Credit Mobilier? Run-of-the-mill bribes by a railroad company, again not involving President Grant directly, just his vice president.
And yes, I’ve been thinking this week of the Lincoln Bedroom scandal. In 1995–96, the Clintons invited a lot of people to spend a night in the famous chamber. Many of them made large donations to the Democratic Party. It was unseemly. But it wasn’t illegal. And it certainly didn’t line the Clintons’ personal pockets. But if you were around at the time, you remember as I do the swollen outrage of Republicans about how relentlessly corrupt the Clintons were.
Today? Crickets.
Finally: Before we leave this topic, I want you to go to GetTrumpMemes.com and just look at those illustrations of Trump. There’s a big one in the middle of him with his fist raised, echoing the image from his attempted assassination. Then off to the right, there’s Trump seated at the head of a dining table.
In both, he looks about 50. The artist has airbrushed a good quarter-century off his face, in terms of jowl fat and wrinkles and accumulated orange pancake. And in the dominant, middle image … what do we think Trump’s waist size is, about 46, 48? This Trump is about a 34. Maybe even a svelte 32. It’s hysterically funny. These are probably the most creepily totalitarian images of Trump I’ve ever seen, and yes, I understand, that’s a big statement. But even Stalin’s visual hagiographers didn’t try to make him look skinny.
I digress. Let’s keep our eyes on the real prize here. This May 22 dinner is a high crime and misdemeanor. A president of the United States can’t use the office to enrich himself in this way, from potentially anonymous donors for whom he might do favors. This is as textbook as corruption gets.
New York Times and Washington Post, put your best investigative reporters on this and place their stories on your front pages. MSNBC, hammer on this—you haven’t been. Democrats, talk about this every day, several times a day. Do not let Trump’s sewer standards jade us. Make sure the people know.
