A Letter from the President

The Purpose of Education: Human Flourishing Over Progress

BY: MELISSA JACKSON

For some, education is a likable word. Britannica defines it as “the action or process of educating or of being educated,” particularly in the sense of developing knowledge, skill, and character. Based on that, it would seem logical that if intentional effort is made, education should lead to better jobs, better health, better citizenship, and better communities—ultimately, a better quality of life for individuals and the country. Right?

But it may depend on who is trying to control education and how they define its purpose.

Is the purpose of education to ensure that all Americans graduate from high school able to read, write, and do math proficiently? Or is it now considered enough that technology can do those things for them? Is education meant to prepare each person to be a productive, independent, self-governing citizen who can pursue their version of life, liberty, and happiness, through their choices and efforts, within the law? Or has the purpose shifted toward preparing people to be managed, where the government defines what life, liberty, and happiness should look like?

That might sound like a silly or ignorant question, since the ideals are laid out in the Declaration of Independence. But given the state of education and our country today, our government and many of us have forgotten the incredible importance of that founding document.

The purpose of education, like the idea of progress, can be subjective, shaped by one’s beliefs, goals, and virtues. My definition of a “good education” may differ greatly from yours. And yet, if we lose sight of education’s higher purpose—to develop thinking, responsible, virtuous citizens—then we risk trading true liberty for mere convenience, and wisdom for mere information.

Many of the things promoted as educational progress are far from it. We may must step back and ask a more fundamental question: Are our children flourishing?

You can’t help but enjoy saying that word—flourishing. It stirs something deep inside us. Life is a gift. It’s full of struggle and joy, and there are no guarantees—except death. But we were created with free will. We have an innate desire to forge our paths, make our own choices, and grow through that process. Humans are born with the capacity to reason, to communicate deeply, and to choose between right and wrong. We were always meant to flourish.

Young children are like sponges—if properly nurtured, they thrive in those early years. They’re curious, trusting, and eager to learn. As a mother of four, I’ve seen firsthand how different each child is. They vary in emotional maturity, learning styles, and developmental needs. It’s my job as a parent to provide the education, discipline, and nurturing that best support each of them so they can grow into independent, productive, self-governing individuals. I didn’t raise these four gifts from God to fit into a one-size-fits-all mold created by the state.

What if our K–12 system focused less on trendy pedagogy, test prep, and bureaucratic checkboxes—and more on building an environment where children truly flourish? So much of what is labeled as progress today is a distraction: costly, bureaucratic, and often ineffective. It consumes teacher time, removes transparency from parents, and results in students underperforming across the board in reading, writing, and math.

Flourishing does not occur when students are routinely asked if they are contemplating suicide or how often they’ve been depressed in the last month. Yes, we must care about mental health—but not at the expense of teaching resilience. We’ve forgotten simple yet powerful phrases like “No more stinking thinking” and “Mind over matter.” Instead of building students up, we’re reinforcing a culture encouraging them to stay stuck in their emotions.

Struggles are part of life. We can’t eliminate them, but we can prepare children to face them. We should teach them that it’s possible to get through tough situations and that on the other side, they’ll come out stronger—wiser, tougher, and more grounded.

That’s the real purpose of education. Not conformity. Not compliance. Not coddling. But flourishing. Helping young people become fully alive—intellectually, morally, emotionally, and spiritually.

Let’s stop asking how to make education more efficient or trendy. Let’s start asking: Are we creating the conditions for our children to flourish?

An even bigger question is this: Is true human flourishing achievable in schools run by a government?

Don’t miss my next blog in June, where I’ll explore how the government has defined the purpose of education—and how, over the past few decades, it has used our children as experiments trying to figure out the purpose of an American education.