But alongside that promise is another reality we cannot ignore. Many students arrive at school carrying burdens far heavier than backpacks. Some are navigating poverty or housing instability. Others are balancing school with responsibilities at home, like caring for siblings or helping their families make ends meet. Many carry the invisible weight of trauma or family hardship. Among these students are roughly 35,000 foster youth enrolled in California’s public schools, young people whose lives have often been shaped by instability, frequent moves and disrupted relationships. For these students, school is more than a place to learn math and reading. It is often the most consistent and supportive environment in their lives.
For vulnerable students, that promise must be intentional. A student in foster care may experience multiple school changes as placements shift. Academic records may arrive late. Trusted relationships with teachers and classmates are disrupted. Each transition can make it harder to stay connected to learning.
And yet schools hold tremendous power to change that trajectory. Research and experience consistently show that one reliable adult relationship can change a life. A teacher who notices when a student is struggling. A counselor who checks in regularly. A coach who offers encouragement and stability. For a young person whose life may feel uncertain, that trusted adult can become an anchor.
In fact, according to Josh Shipp, an award-winning speaker and author who grew up in the foster system, “Every kid is one caring adult away from being a success story.”
In communities across California, schools are increasingly serving as hubs of support for vulnerable students. Counselors, social workers, nurses and psychologists work alongside teachers to address the needs of the whole child. Partnerships with community organizations bring health services, mental health support and family resources directly onto school campuses.
Providing these supports requires real investment. Specialized staff, targeted academic interventions, mental health services and special education programs all carry significant costs. Educating students with the greatest needs often requires substantially more resources than the base funding allocated per pupil. Even with the supplemental funding distributed to local educational agencies through the Local Control Funding Formula based on their foster youth count, more resources are needed.
County boards in particular play a critical role in coordinating services for foster youth across districts, working closely with child welfare agencies and community partners. These connections help ensure that students experiencing instability remain connected to school and the supports they need to succeed.
One powerful example of this commitment can be found at San Pasqual Academy, the first-in-the-nation residential campus for foster youth and non-minor dependents. Operated by San Diego County, the academy provides stable housing, supportive services and, in partnership with San Diego COE, education. I had the opportunity to visit the campus and speak with students about their experiences. Many shared that for the first time they did not have to worry about changing schools or leaving friends behind. They spoke about focusing on their classes, joining clubs and sports, and building relationships with teachers and staff who knew them and believed in them. For students who have often faced repeated moves, that sense of belonging can be transformative. Programs like this reflect intentional leadership and governance decisions that prioritize the needs of vulnerable youth.
Sometimes the vulnerability students carry becomes visible in powerful moments. Several years ago, I helped facilitate a Challenge Day at a local high school, which creates space for students to share experiences and build empathy across differences. Students spoke openly about struggles many of their classmates had never known: working evenings to help support their families, translating for parents at medical appointments, or navigating loneliness and anxiety. One by one, the labels students often carry — athlete, shy, popular, outsider — began to fall away. What remained was a room full of young people realizing they were not alone. Moments like that remind us how much our students carry with them into the classroom every day.
For me, this work is also deeply personal. My mother grew up in poverty, in a childhood shaped by scarcity and uncertainty, challenges that many families still face today. Education was not simply expected in her world; it offered stability and a pathway to a different future. Her perseverance reinforced a truth that continues to guide my work today. Talent and potential are distributed evenly among children, but opportunity is not.
That truth places a special responsibility on our schools and on those entrusted with governing them. Serving on a school board is about more than policies and budgets. It is about stewardship of a public promise, that every child who walks through the doors of a public school deserves the opportunity to succeed.
For the most vulnerable students among us, delivering on that promise requires care, intention and leadership. Because somewhere in every classroom sits a student whose circumstances do not yet reflect their potential. With stability, support and even one consistent adult who believes in them, that student can build a future that once seemed out of reach.
And that is the promise of public education, a promise worth keeping.