Educational Access Is Becoming a Question of Where Families Live

Education remains closely connected to how Americans think about opportunity, mobility, and the future of their children. Yet public views of the K-12 system suggest that the importance Americans place on education is accompanied by questions about whether the system is delivering the experience families value. According to the 2026 Milken Center for Advancing the American Dream-Gallup American Dream Study, 92% of Americans say obtaining a quality education is important to the American Dream. At the same time, Gallup reports that 32% of Americans are satisfied with the quality of K-12 education in the U.S., the lowest level recorded since the measure began in 1999.

Those findings provide a broader context for a question that extends beyond satisfaction with schools themselves: How much educational choice is actually available to families in different communities?

Research from the Fordham Institute offers one way to consider that question. The institute defines a “charter school desert” as an area containing at least three contiguous census tracts with moderate or high poverty and no charter elementary schools. Its analysis identified such areas across 39 of the 42 states with charter schools. For families in these communities, geography and socioeconomic circumstances can influence which educational options are realistically within reach.

The issue, then, can involve more than the quality of the schools a family can access. It can also involve the range of educational models a child has an opportunity to encounter. Classical education provides an especially useful example because its content-rich tradition in the liberal arts and the cultivation of virtue has, in many contexts, historically been associated with private and affluent educational settings.

Tim Allen, Principal of Southeast Ohio Classical Academy (SOCA), a classical charter school serving Appalachian Ohio, offers a real-world perspective on that assumption. The school was established in an economically disadvantaged region where classical education had limited familiarity, creating a setting where the model could be considered outside the communities with which it is most commonly associated.

“There was skepticism when I first described the idea locally,” Allen shares. “Some initially viewed classical education as elitist or irrelevant. Some preferred to focus on career and college readiness. But some shared, or later caught, our vision of an education that aimed higher than aristocracy or employment: to train the minds and cultivate the hearts of young men and women in moral character and civic virtue through a classical curriculum in the liberal arts and sciences. Early families who joined our mission asked the bold questions: ‘Why not here? Why not my family?’ We have a demanding and exacting vision, but there is no reason our students could not or should not have this opportunity.”

That question became especially significant because Allen believes that few of the families who came through the school’s doors initially knew much about classical education. He notes that many encountered the school through its culture, mission, and intended outcomes before becoming familiar with concepts such as Latin, great books, or Singapore Math. Community outreach therefore became an important part of making the model understandable, with public information sessions, library events, and door-to-door conversations helping families explore an educational tradition that was unfamiliar to many of them.

For Allen, that experience suggests that access involves more than establishing a school. Families also need an opportunity to understand what an unfamiliar educational model asks of students, what it values, and why it may be worthwhile for their children.

Classical education, in his view, extends far beyond a particular curriculum. Classical education is a method, a tradition, and an ideal; it is an enculturation. Prudence, courage, patience, kindness, and friendship are qualities students can practice through ordinary interactions, responsibilities, and relationships, or study and imitate through classic literature, historical figures, and the fine arts.

“Education always points toward a vision of the person a student is meant to become,” Allen says. “That makes it important to ask what kind of character, values, and personhood we hope students will carry with them when their formal schooling is complete.” He places academic learning within a broader consideration of citizenship, character, and the kind of life families hope education will help prepare their children to lead.

The school’s experience has provided some indication that the model can resonate locally. According to Allen, enrollment has grown substantially since its opening, and the school has made use of classrooms, shared spaces, corridors, and other available areas to accommodate its students. “I believe that growth offers a response to the early expectation that classical education might have limited appeal in the region,” he states.

The experience has also shaped his thinking about school choice. Allen views parents as the primary educators of their children and believes they should have the final authority to select an educational setting consistent with their convictions and aspirations. From that perspective, school choice becomes a question of parental agency as well as the availability of schools.

Allen encourages policymakers to visit schools serving families who exercise educational choice. Experiencing a school’s culture firsthand can provide useful context, he argues, while speaking directly with parents can reveal why families pursue particular educational paths.

The broader question extends beyond classical education. If a family’s location influences which educational traditions its children encounter, access becomes closely connected to geography. A meaningful system of educational choice may depend on whether families have the knowledge, resources, and nearby options needed to consider different paths.

For families in communities with limited educational options, the underlying issue may be simple: a child’s ZIP code can influence the range of educational possibilities placed within reach. Expanding access can give more families the opportunity to decide which vision of education they believe is worthwhile for their children.