Lumina Foundation is working to increase the share of adults in the U.S. labor force with college degrees or other credentials of value leading to economic prosperity.
Christopher Cade wants to be president someday. His inspiration largely comes from family members, who have been involved in local politics and activism since long before he was born.
However, policies from the Trump administration and the Ohio Legislature are complicating his college experience—and his plans to become a politician.
There are endless debates about teacher quality, curriculum standards, and licensure exams. But we rarely confront the most fundamental barrier to building a strong teaching workforce: The pathway into the profession requires months of unpaid labor during clinical practice; to survive, 61 percent of teacher candidates work second jobs during their student teaching, and more than a quarter of those work 30 or more hours per week—often in jobs unrelated to education. Combined with high tuition over multiple years and few part-time pathways, teaching has become unaffordable for too many aspiring teachers.
This isn’t a minor inconvenience. It’s a design flaw that determines who can—and cannot—enter the profession.
The Hope Center for Student Basic Needs, a resource and policy center at Temple University, estimates that 1.1 million college students are affected by the lapse in the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, the government’s largest anti-hunger initiative. Hope Center officials also warn that recent court rulings ordering the Trump administration to keep SNAP running with contingency funds will not immediately solve the hunger crisis for recipients.
Colleges that want to support affected students should expand their services and regularly communicate updates to their campuses, according to the center. Donation drives on campus, expanding support for emergency aid programs, and tapping into alumni networks can also help.
One of the nation's most selective institutions is raising concerns about grade inflation. According to a new report, A's will account for about 60 percent of all grades awarded in 2025 at Harvard College, which houses the university’s undergraduate program. That’s a big jump from 2005, when less than a quarter of grades were A's.
The report has sparked a frenzied response, validating critics' notions that "elite" colleges may not live up to expectations and that Gen Z students may not be able to handle rigorous grading. The truth, of course, is more complicated. But the report provides a fascinating portrait of how Harvard views its role as a sorter of talent, and it shines a light on universal debates over grading that extend far beyond Cambridge, Mass.
Harvard University's endowment, Silicon Valley's wealth, or the publishing deals of celebrated professors do not measure the true value of higher education. It is measured in the millions of students striving for opportunity—most of them raising children, working jobs, serving in uniform, or making rent and mortgage payments with other bills competing for their attention.
It is found in the automotive and welding programs that provide essential skills for stable careers. It takes shape in dual enrollment programs that allow high school students to earn an associate degree before graduation. And it lives in prison education programs—long shut out of federal support—that provide people dignity, skills, and a chance to start again, writes the president of Complete College America in this perspective.
Imagine standing on a mountain, watching as storm clouds gather on the horizon, raining lightning and thunder on a neighboring village. It is natural to wonder, says Michael Ignatieff, a professor and former president of Central European University, “how long will it be before that storm hits us?”
The storm in Ignatieff’s metaphor is the political assault on higher education. The village? The United States.
