Every four years, like clockwork, the Department of Education becomes a character in America’s favorite political performance: “The Culture War — Now With Book Bans.” Here in South Carolina, that drama hit a fever pitch when the State Board of Education voted to ban four additional titles leaving teachers scrambling and students protesting across the state.
One party wants to abolish the Department of Education (DOE). The other defends it like it’s the last barrier between students and academic ruin. But neither side is getting it right.
It’s time to confront the elephant in the room: If anyone should be leading the charge to eliminate the Department of Education, it’s the Democrats.
In South Carolina, Democratic leaders from Charleston to Columbia to Greenville have condemned the DOE’s sudden gutting of the Institute of Education Sciences; cuts that wiped out nearly half its research staff overnight and left school districts scrambling for data-driven support. And unlike our GOP rivals who shout slogans, Democrats fight for real accountability and protections from power that shifts with every election.
It may sound heretical, but it’s time to ask why the Department of Education keeps failing — and why it’s at odds with the very values Democrats claim to uphold. At a recent South Carolina Public Radio forum, parents and educators warned that DOE staffing cuts threaten civil rights enforcement and Title I funding (federal aid for low-income schools). Whether in school boards or on the national stage, sudden policy shifts block progress toward equity, stall reforms and betray the very ideals they claim to uphold.
But the department was created to help students like those at USC, right? And if the GOP’s hated it from day one, it must be doing something right… right? Not exactly.
The Department of Education was born not from a fight for equity, but as a political thank-you—the payoff for the NEA’s 1976 endorsement of Jimmy Carter. Signed into law in 1979, it aimed to "streamline" scattered federal programs by replacing the Office of Education with a Cabinet-level agency. In practice, it’s mostly served as a megaphone for presidential agendas: think George W. Bush’s No Child Left Behind; Barack Obama’s Race to the Top; and even the Every Student Succeeds Act, which repackaged accountability under a friendlier name.
Over four decades, the DOE has become less a cheerleader for South Carolina classrooms and more a revolving stage for each president’s latest battle; leaving USC students and Palmetto State teachers waiting for someone to pass the baton.
That "streamlining" of education? It’s become the bane of some teachers’ existence. One president uses the department to cancel student debt ; the next to gut Title IX. One expands college access; the next rewrites civil rights law like it’s a word game. Every administration brings a new secretary, a new agenda and a fresh round of whiplash. This isn’t just national, it’s also mirrored at the state level in Columbia, where the 2025 Parental Rights in Education Act saw lawmakers rewriting classroom content rules on the fly — a fight felt even in USC’s lecture halls and seminar rooms.
And yet, this agency oversees $60 billion in federal education spending every year. That’s not to mention the $15,000+ the US spends per student and the hefty tuition bills some students face, putting the US among the top spenders globally—while still managing to rank 34th in math in the world with over 54% of U.S. adults reading below a sixth-grade level.
So maybe the current model isn’t working. In South Carolina, we’ve seen the cracks: underfunded schools, underpaid teachers and federal mandates that miss the mark for local needs. Real innovation, like magnet programs and career training centers, comes from the ground up, not D.C.
Let’s ask an uncomfortable question: What exactly are we defending when we defend the Department of Education?
The student loan system? Most everyone hates it. Title IX protections? The current administration has been busy dismantling them. Impactful reforms? Most came from lawsuits or Congress; not the DOE.
What’s left is the symbolic comfort of “federal involvement.” But is that really what Democrats stand for? We talk about decentralizing power and resisting authoritarianism – yet we’re fine letting one president rewrite classroom rules at will?
Some say we need the DOE to enforce equity, and that’s valid. But if civil rights depend on election outcomes, we haven’t built protections; we’ve built conditional permission.
If we care about equity, we need real laws. Codify protections. Put enforcement in the Department of Justice. Move aid to Treasury. Let data live with an independent commission. We need durable systems, not hopeful appointees.
Let’s stop pretending the Department of Education is a neutral tool. It’s not – it’s a loaded weapon handed to every new administration, threatening campuses like USC. And eventually, someone’s going to aim it somewhere dangerous.
What happens when a president decides “unapproved” history should lose funding? Or when Title IX is twisted – not to protect students, but to punish universities for supporting LGBTQ+ youth? What happens when we give this much unchecked power to someone who doesn’t even pretend to care about education?
That’s not just a hypothetical. It’s the natural result of a system that lets one person’s ideology dictate the future of 50 million students, including those at USC.
We can do better. We can build an education system that’s accountable to voters, rooted in local needs and protected from political whiplash.
Let’s stop treating the Department of Education like a sacred cow just because it sounds progressive. It started as symbolism. Now, it’s a liability.
Let Republicans rant about “woke schools.” Let them perform. Democrats can lead – by dismantling a tool of executive overreach and replacing it with something stronger: Laws that endure, institutions that serve students (not parties) and policies built to outlast campaign cycles.
This isn’t about shrinking government. It’s about securing it – before someone turns it into a weapon and puts higher education safe havens and beyond at risk.