The National Assessment for Educational Progress, called NAEP or the Nation’s Report Card, has long been considered the gold standard for understanding how American students are doing. So bad headlines were inevitable last week when the long-delayed 2024 results for 12th graders in math and reading and for eighth graders in science were finally released.

It is tempting to blame the long tail of the pandemic for the dismal scores. But folks who keep a close eye on NAEP had some provocative analysis. 

Eric Hanushek: It’s not just the pandemic

Eric Hanushek, a senior fellow at Stanford University’s Hoover Institution, points out that the 3-point declines for 12th graders between 2019 and 2024 are in line with the long-term achievement losses that he’s been seeing since 2013. In a paper this month, written before the 12th grade 2024 NAEP scores were released, he documented that the learning losses during the pandemic match those that occurred before and after the pandemic. In other words, student achievement is declining for reasons other than Covid school disruptions.

Hanushek calculated that restoring student achievement to 2013 levels would raise the lifetime earnings of today’s average student by an estimated 8 percent and would produce dramatic and sustained gains for the national economy.

Related: Our free weekly newsletter alerts you to what research says about schools and classrooms.

Dan McGrath: It could have been worse

Dan McGrath, the retired former associate commissioner for assessments at the National Center for Education Statistics, used to oversee NAEP until he lost his job in March during mass layoffs at the Education Department.

Now he’s sharing his personal analysis of NAEP score data in a newsletter. McGrath points out that the slide in eighth grade science and 12th grade math and reading is “not as bad” as he had expected.

He based that prediction on deteriorating scores for students this age before the pandemic, and pandemic-era losses for fourth and eighth graders. He said he would have expected drops twice as large: 8 points instead of just 3 to 4 points.

Any decline is bad. McGrath said that students who were in eighth grade in the spring of 2024 (and are now starting 10th grade in high school) are less prepared for difficult high school science courses, and students who graduated high school in 2024 went to college or into the workforce “underskilled” compared to students before them.

But given that McGrath had predicted far worse results, these NAEP scores are “kinda sorta good news,” he said. Why did 12th graders weather the pandemic better than eighth graders did, and why did science skills hold up better than math and reading for eighth graders? “I don’t know,” wrote McGrath. 

Related: NAEP, the Nation’s Report Card, was supposed to be safe. It’s not 

Andrew Ho: Missing data

Harvard University education professor Andrew Ho lamented on LinkedIn that the recent NAEP release isn’t that useful. For starters, the long five-year gap (from 2019 to 2024) between the tests of 12th graders means that we cannot tell if the 2024 results represent a pandemic decline or recovery from an earlier nadir.

That matters. Education policymakers have no way of knowing if high schools are back on an upward track (and should continue doing what they are doing) or not (and change course).

Also, there’s no state data for 12th graders to help us see bright spots to emulate.

That frequency and breadth already takes place for fourth and eighth graders. Leslie Muldoon, executive director of the board that oversees the NAEP test, commented that more frequent and state-by-state testing of high schoolers is a future priority.

Related: A smaller NAEP 

Reversing course and rehiring at the Education Department

Adding tests might seem like a pipe dream in the wake of budget and staffing cuts at the Education Department. All the staffers dedicated to NAEP were fired in March as part of a mass downsizing that Education Secretary Linda McMahon said was a first step toward eliminating the department.

However, the Education Department is now starting to rehire staff to help administer the NAEP exam — a sign that the administration intends to preserve at least one function of the agency that President Donald Trump wants to abolish.

So far two new jobs have been posted — one to oversee the development of test questions and the other to supervise the administration of the tests. These are the first two of at least eight positions that the Education Department plans to fill this fall, according to an education department official with the National Center for Education Statistics who briefed reporters this month.

Contact staff writer Jill Barshay at 212-678-3595, jillbarshay.35 on Signal, or barshay@hechingerreport.org. 

This story about NAEP scores was produced by The Hechinger Report, a nonprofit, independent news organization focused on inequality and innovation in education. Sign up for Proof Points and other Hechinger newsletters.

Key points:

When a long-serving superintendent departs, districts inherit more than a vacancy. They inherit emotion, legacy, and the uncertainty that comes with change. With superintendent tenure shrinking nationwide, the real question isn’t if transitions will happen; it’s whether districts can navigate them without losing momentum for students.

I stepped into the superintendency at Mississinewa Community Schools following the retirement of a respected leader. We avoided the common pitfalls, mixed messages, rumor spirals, and initiative drift by treating the transition as a community moment rather than a personnel change.

Here are practical steps any district can adapt, regardless of size or setting.

1. Model professionalism, especially when it’s hard

Leadership changes often mean disappointment for people who’ve given years to the district. Ask outgoing leaders to help “set the table” for what’s next: Attend public meetings, co-host early listening sessions, and make warm handoffs to key staff and partners.

Why it works: Visible unity lowers anxiety and keeps adults focused on students, not politics.

Try this: Create a two-page “transition script” with shared talking points, key dates, and who says what, when.

2. Go first with transparency

Transitions are prime time for speculation. Beat it with a simple, repeated message: what’s changing, what’s not, and when stakeholders can weigh in.

Why it works: Predictability builds trust; small, frequent updates outperform lengthy, sporadic memos.

Try this: A 60-day communications cadence; weekly staff note, biweekly family/community update, and a brief public dashboard tracking immediate priorities (e.g., safety, staffing, instruction, operations).

3. Build trust through presence, not pronouncements

Spend full days in each school early on–not for photo ops, but for structured listening. Invite a veteran leader with deep relationships to walk alongside the new leader.
Why it works: Trust is built in classrooms and hallways. Side-by-side introductions transfer social capital and signal continuity.

Try this: Use a three-question listening protocol: What’s working students-first? What’s getting in the way? What’s one quick win we can try this month? Close the loop publicly on what you heard and acted on.

4. Protect instructional continuity

Transitions can unintentionally pause or reset key initiatives. Identify the 3-5 “do-not-drop” items (e.g., early literacy practices, MTSS, PLC rhythms) and assign explicit owners and check-ins.

Why it works: Students shouldn’t feel the turbulence of adult change.

Try this: A one-page “continuity plan” listing each initiative, the non-negotiables, owners, and 30/60/90-day milestones.

5. Anchor every decision in integrity

People watch how leaders behave under stress. Humility from those exiting, patience from those staying, and clarity from those arriving are all forms of integrity that audiences read quickly.

Why it works: Integrity reduces drama and accelerates collaboration.

Try this: Adopt a simple decision rubric you can publish: Is it student-centered? Is it equitable? Is it feasible this term? Share how recent decisions aligned with the rubric.

A quick-start checklist (steal this)

• Day 0–15: Announce the continuity plan; align the cabinet on 3-5 non-negotiables; publish listening tour dates.
• Day 30: Report “you said/we did” updates; celebrate quick wins; schedule joint appearances with outgoing leaders where appropriate.
• Day 60: Refresh the dashboard; confirm owners/timelines for longer-horizon work; address one stubborn, high-visibility pain point.
• Day 90: Publicly close the transition phase; restate the district’s instructional priorities and how they will be measured.

Watchouts

• Mixed messages: If leaders aren’t saying the same thing, you’re fueling rumors. Script and rehearse.
• New-initiative temptation: Resist “rebranding” just to mark the moment. Improve execution first; rename later.
• Invisible wins: Listening without visible action erodes trust. Close loops quickly–even on small items.

Bottom line

Leadership transitions aren’t just about titles; they’re about people and the students we serve. With professionalism, transparency, presence, and integrity, districts can turn a vulnerable moment into a unifying one and keep learning at the center where it belongs.

From Texas to Florida to Arizona, school voucher policies are reshaping the landscape of American education. The Trump administration champions federal support for voucher expansion, and many state-level leaders are advancing school choice programs. Billions of public dollars are now flowing to private schools, church networks and microeducation platforms.  

The push to expand school choice is not just reallocating public funds to private institutions. It is reorganizing the very purpose of schooling. And in that shift, something essential is being lost — the public mission of education as a foundation of democracy. 

Civic education is becoming fragmented, underfunded and institutionally weak.  

In this moment of sweeping change, as public dollars shift from common institutions to private and alternative schools, the shared civic entities that once supported democratic learning are being diminished or lost entirely — traditional structures like public schools, libraries and community colleges are no longer guaranteed common spaces. 

The result is a disjointed system in which students may gain academic content or career preparation but receive little support in learning how to lead with integrity, think across differences or sustain democratic institutions. The very idea of public life is at risk, especially in places where shared experience has been replaced by polarization. We need civic education more than ever. 

Related: A lot goes on in classrooms from kindergarten to high school. Keep up with our free weekly newsletter on K-12 education.  

If we want students who can lead a multiracial democracy, we need schools of every type to take civic formation seriously. That includes religious schools, charter schools and homeschooling networks. The responsibility cannot fall on public schools alone. Civic formation is not an ideological project. It is a democratic one, involving the long-term work of building the skills, habits and values that prepare people to work across differences and take responsibility for shared democratic life. 

What we need now is a civic education strategy that matches the scale of the changes reshaping American schooling. This will mean fostering coordinated investment, institutional partnerships and recognition that the stakes are not just academic, they are also democratic. 

Americans overwhelmingly support civic instruction. According to a 2020 survey in Texas by the Center of Women in Politics and Public Policy and iCivics, just 49 percent of teachers statewide believed that enough time was being devoted to teaching civics knowledge, and just 23 percent said the same about participatory-democracy skills. This gap is not unique to Texas, but there is little agreement on how civics should be taught, and even less structural support for the schools trying to do it. 

Without serious investment, civic formation will remain an afterthought — a patchwork effort disconnected from the design of most educational systems. 

This is not an argument against vouchers in principle. Families should have options. But in the move to decentralize education, we risk hollowing out its civic core. A democratic society cannot survive on academic content alone. It requires citizens — not just in the legal sense, but in the civic one. 

A democratic society needs people who can deliberate, organize, collaborate and build a shared future with others who do not think or live like they do. 

And that’s why we are building a framework in Texas that others can adopt and adapt to their own civic mission. 

The pioneering Democracy Schools model, to which I contribute, supports civic formation across a range of public and private schools, colleges, community organizations and professional networks.  

Civic infrastructure is the term we use to describe our approach: the design of relationships, institutions and systems that hold democracy together. Just as engineers build physical infrastructure, educators and civic leaders must build civic infrastructure by working with communities, not for or on them. 

We start from a democratic tradition rooted in the Black freedom struggle. Freedom, in this view, is not just protection from domination. It is the capacity to act, build and see oneself reflected in the world. This view of citizenship demands more than voice. It calls for the ability to shape institutions, policies and public narratives from the ground up. 

Related: STUDENT VOICE: My generation knows less about civics than my parents’ generation did, yet we need it more than ever 

The model speaks to a national crisis: the erosion of shared civic space in education. It must be practiced and must be supported by institutions that understand their role in building public life. Historically Black colleges and universities like Huston-Tillotson University offer a powerful example. They are not elite pipelines disconnected from everyday life. They are rooted in community, oriented toward public leadership and shaped by a history of democratic struggle. They show what it looks like to educate for civic capacity — not just for upward mobility. They remind us that education is not only about what students know, but about who they become and what kind of world they are prepared to help shape. 

Our national future depends on how well we prepare young people to take responsibility for shared institutions and pluralistic public life. This cannot be accomplished through content standards alone. It requires civic ecosystems designed to cultivate public authorship. 

We have an enormous stake in preparing the next generation for the demands of democratic life. What kind of society are we preparing young people to lead? The answer will not come from any single institution. It will come from partnerships across sectors, aligned in purpose even if diverse in approach. 

We are eager to collaborate with any organization — public, private or faith-based — committed to building the civic infrastructure that sustains our democracy. Wherever education takes place, civic formation must remain a central concern. 

Robert Ceresa is the founding director of the Politics Lab of the James L. Farmer House, Huston-Tillotson University. 

Contact the opinion editor at opinion@hechingerreport.org.  

This story about civic education was produced by The Hechinger Report, a nonprofit, independent news organization focused on inequality and innovation in education. Sign up for Hechinger’s weekly newsletter.