https://www.fcd-us.org/protecting-public-schools-as-a-promise-to-every-child/
When I first read the bills, my stomach dropped.
I’ve been organizing in Tennessee for more than a decade, and I’ve learned not to be surprised by anti-immigrant legislation. Still, seeing three bills introduced in a single session that would deny children access to public education felt like something different. These proposals weren’t just another attack on immigrant families; they were a direct challenge to Plyler v. Doe, the 1982 Supreme Court decision that has protected every child’s right to attend public school for more than 40 years.
At the Tennessee Immigrant and Refugee Rights Coalition (TIRRC), we’ve helped defeat more than 250 anti-immigrant bills in our state legislature over the last two decades. But this moment carried national implications. If legislation restricting access to public education succeeded in Tennessee, other states would follow. Our members understood immediately: the education of all children across the country rested, in part, on what we did next.
I was honest with our community. I told them the odds were long. I told them we would likely lose this legislative fight, and we would have to challenge the bills in court.
They listened, and then they said, “Let’s fight anyway.”
That decision set everything in motion.
Starting With People
Like every campaign that matters, this one began by listening. TIRRC organizers quickly convened community calls, house meetings, and conversations with parents, educators, and advocates across the state. Education touches every immigrant family’s life, and people were hungry for a place to channel their fear, their anger, and their hope.
These early conversations weren’t about tactics. They were about grounding ourselves in what was at stake, not just for immigrant children, but for education as a public institution for everyone. Again and again, people said the same thing in different ways: Our children should never be political bargaining chips. All children deserve an education.
That clarity shaped everything that followed.
This Fight Is Bigger Than Immigration
From the beginning, we knew this fight could not be framed only as an immigration issue — because it wasn’t. History tells us that when policymakers succeed in impinging on the rights of one community, the circle of exclusion rarely stops there.
We talked openly with our partners and members about that reality. If the state could decide that undocumented children didn’t belong in public schools, what would stop the next attack on students with disabilities whose services are deemed “too expensive,” or unhoused students whose lives don’t fit neatly into bureaucratic systems? What about rural students whose schools are already underfunded and at risk of closure, or Black and Brown students who have long borne the consequences of unequal access and disinvestment? Would Brown v. Board of Education become vulnerable to attack next?
So, we made a deliberate choice: this campaign would not just defend immigrant children; it would defend public education itself as a promise to every child.
That framing resonated broadly. Educators could see this as a fight for their students and their profession. Faith leaders were able to ground their advocacy in moral clarity. Rural organizers and school advocates connected what is happening in immigrant communities to the slow erosion of public schools in their own towns.
When we launched the Education for All Tennessee campaign, we brought together partners who reflected that broader vision — education advocates, civil rights organizations, rural organizers, faith leaders, and community groups who understood that public schools are one of the last shared institutions in our society. The question we posed was simple and expansive: Do we believe public education is for all children, or only for some?
By naming what was truly at stake, we built a coalition wide enough and strong enough to meet this moment.
Changing the Narrative
Once we expanded our understanding of what was at stake, the campaign had to change how the story was being told. Too often, legislation like this is discussed in abstract terms — budgets, enforcement, or political strategy — while the real consequences for children, families, and communities are obscured.
Campaign partners were intentional about centering real people and shared impact. Instead of allowing the debate to remain theoretical, we lifted up the everyday realities of teachers trying to support all of their students, parents worried about stability and belonging, and business leaders who understood that strong public schools are foundational to thriving towns and cities.
As those stories reached the public, the narrative began to shift. Coverage moved away from neutral descriptions of proposed policy and toward clear acknowledgment of the harm these bills would cause, not just to immigrant families, but to classrooms, school systems, and communities across Tennessee. That shift mattered. When the story changes, so does what feels politically possible.
Turning Momentum Into Power
As the coalition grew, so did people’s determination to act. We created multiple entry points for engagement: faith leaders prayed, children testified, and letters of concern poured in from all corners. Members spoke with congregants at legislators’ churches, advanced school board resolutions, and organized email and call campaigns to lawmakers.
What struck me most was how many people connected this fight to something larger. They weren’t just defending immigrant children; they were defending public education as a cornerstone of democracy. They were drawing lines between this moment and past struggles for equal access and opportunity.
By the end of the session, two of the three bills had been defeated outright. A third was halted and did not advance. It was a hard-fought outcome, and an important one, but it wasn’t the only measure of success.
What We’re Really Building
Legislative wins matter. But movements are built on people.
Through this campaign, new leaders stepped forward. Immigrant parents who had never spoken publicly before shared their stories. Educators found common cause with advocates outside their usual circles. Thousands of people joined a fight they now understand as their own.
That is what power looks like: more people activated, more relationships formed, more clarity about what is possible, even when the work is defensive.
In Tennessee, immigrants make up a small percentage of the population, which means our success depends on building alliances and helping people see how their futures are bound together. When we organize with strategy, lead with values, and refuse to comply in advance, we win more than policy fights.
We build a movement capable of meeting whatever comes next. The Tennessee General Assembly has gaveled in for 2026, and it is shaping up to be one of our most challenging legislative sessions yet. In the Education for All Campaign, however, I started by listening to our members: we should fight even though the odds are against us.
I thought it was impossible to win, but together we can make the impossible possible.