Welp, it's finally happened. Uncle Sam is getting kicked out of the PTA.
On March 20, 2025, President Donald J. Trump — in a bold, sweeping gesture that’s somewhere between a policy decision and an exasperated dad firing a nanny he never liked — signed an executive order to effectively close the Department of Education. That’s right. Forty-six years after its birth in the golden era of disco and bell bottoms, the Department is being shown the door by a President who thinks centralized education is about as useful as a screen door on a submarine.
The executive order, titled Improving Education Outcomes by Empowering Parents, States, and Communities, sounds innocent enough — almost like a Pinterest board full of homeschooled crafting ideas. But beneath its wholesome, apple-pie façade lies a flamethrower aimed at the heart of federal education policy. And frankly, the aim is very deliberate.
Let’s unpack this chaos, shall we?
Section 1: “The Purpose is We’re Sick of This Crap”
The order opens like most presidential proclamations do — with soaring rhetoric about “our Nation’s bright future” and the vital importance of families, teachers, and communities. So far, so Miss America.
But then the gloves come off faster than a toddler tearing into a crayon box. In a tone that reads like someone yelling “YOU HAD ONE JOB” at a failing government agency, the President takes a blowtorch to the entire concept of federal involvement in education.
Apparently, decades of federal programs — which have had the audacity to try and ensure things like equal access, disability accommodations, and literacy (the horror!) — have been little more than a "failed experiment." It’s like if Dr. Frankenstein called his monster a disappointment for not being a concert pianist.
Never mind the nuanced challenges of socioeconomic disparities, underfunded rural schools, or the logistics of nationwide student aid. No, the real issue here is bureaucracy. That dreaded B-word. According to the order, we’ve spent billions of dollars just to build a giant, ineffective machine that produces low test scores and press releases.
Fun fact from the order: The Department of Education apparently has over 80 PR staffers at a cost of $10 million a year. Because the biggest problem with American schools is... too many press conferences?
The $200 Billion Elephant in the Classroom
Let's talk cash.
The order takes aim at the $200 billion the federal government threw at schools during COVID-19 — a.k.a. the pandemic that turned your dining room into a third-grade Zoom battlefield. The implication is that this money basically went down the toilet. But maybe, just maybe, a global emergency isn't the best litmus test for long-term education reform?
Also, sidebar: $200 billion sounds like a lot until you remember this is the same government that drops $886 billion on defense and then loses track of F-35s in the sky like they’re misplacing AirPods.
But I digress.
A Brief History of “Blame Jimmy Carter”
No snarky policy takedown would be complete without a jab at President Jimmy Carter. After all, he's the one who dared to suggest that education should be a thing the federal government cares about. The nerve!
According to the executive order, Carter pushed for the Department of Education in 1979 as a sort of thank-you note to the teachers’ union for endorsing him. It’s a spicy accusation that sounds suspiciously like political fan fiction. But sure, let’s blame Carter. It’s always his fault when Republicans are mad at a government program that helps people.
American Students are Failing! Therefore, Fire the Referee!
The real centerpiece of the order is a pair of dismal statistics: 70% of 8th graders are below proficient in reading, and 72% are below proficient in math. Alarming? Absolutely. But instead of asking why this is the case — say, looking into childhood poverty, food insecurity, or chronic underfunding in low-income districts — the executive order pulls a classic “blame the referee for the losing score.”
Because if you think the problem with your football team is the guy keeping time, then maybe you shouldn’t be calling the plays.
Student Loans: We’re Not a Bank, Bro
This is where things get extra weird. According to the executive order, the Department of Education is managing a $1.6 trillion student loan portfolio — basically the size of Wells Fargo — but with fewer employees than a Chick-fil-A on a Sunday. This is meant to highlight incompetence, but what it actually reveals is that the Department has been trying to do a big job with a tiny staff and no drive-thru.
The President’s solution? Apparently, “return bank functions to an entity equipped to serve America’s students.” Which raises the obvious question: Who? Are we privatizing student aid? Reassigning it to the Treasury? Letting Bank of America run FAFSA? Is Elon Musk going to launch tuition checks via SpaceX now?
We don’t know. But we’re apparently pulling the plug first and figuring it out later.
Section 2: “States, You’re the Principal Now”
So what happens when you close the Department of Education? Who gets the clipboard?
Well, the order says: “the States.” As in, state governments. As in, fifty unique and wildly inconsistent systems of laws, priorities, and resources. You know, the folks who bring you things like creationism in textbooks, book bans at school libraries, and lunch programs that somehow cost more than a steak dinner.
Under this plan, your zip code becomes your destiny — even more than it already is. Live in a wealthy suburb? Congrats, your kids get calculus and violin lessons. Live in a low-income district? Here’s a rusty Chromebook and a packet of worksheets from 2012.
But hey, “local control,” right?
DEI? GTFO
No Trump-era executive order would be complete without a cultural grudge match. Section 2(b) makes it clear that programs related to “diversity, equity, and inclusion” are persona non grata — especially if they’re hiding behind “labels.”
That’s right: DEI is out. Gender ideology? Banned. Programs that suggest empathy is a virtue? Pack it up, lib.
The message is clear: Education should be about reading, math, and maybe a sanitized version of history where everyone wore powdered wigs and nothing bad ever happened.
Section 3: Legalese for “Don’t Sue Us, Bro”
The final section is boilerplate stuff designed to protect the administration from lawsuits when people eventually realize that gutting a federal agency is harder than writing a stern letter. It says, essentially: “This isn’t a law, it’s an executive order. Chill out.”
It also emphasizes that everything will be done “subject to the availability of appropriations.” In English: Congress still has to give us the money to do any of this.
Which raises an awkward question: if Congress doesn't fund this transition, will the Department of Education just awkwardly hang around like a fired employee still showing up to work because HR forgot to deactivate their badge?
Final Thoughts: “So, How’s That Empowerment Going?”
Look. If you believe that the federal government has been too heavy-handed in education, I get it. There’s a legitimate debate to be had about local control versus national standards. But that’s not what this order does. This isn’t a debate — it’s a demolition derby.
Instead of reforming or streamlining the Department of Education, this order just lights the whole thing on fire and hands the ashes to fifty states with a note that says, “Good luck, you’ll need it.”
The irony? The order claims it’s about “empowering parents, states, and communities,” but the first thing it does is take away the biggest tool those communities have had to hold schools accountable: a national standard.
Without the Department of Education, there’s no consistent enforcement of IDEA (Individuals with Disabilities Education Act). No oversight on Title IX. No pressure on states to close racial achievement gaps. No coordination on Pell Grants or student loan relief.
But sure, let’s call this “empowerment.”
TL;DR
- The federal government is done with education. Your state is your new teacher, principal, and school board — good luck.
- The Department of Education is being blamed for everything from test scores to PR budgets.
- Student loans? No clue. Some bank, somewhere, probably.
- DEI, gender studies, and anything that isn’t reading, writing, and arithmetic? Burn it with fire.
- There’s no plan for what comes next — just vibes and executive authority.
- “Empowerment” means you're now on your own. Enjoy the homework.
In Conclusion…
This executive order isn’t just about education. It’s about turning back the clock — not to some golden age of learning, but to a time when federal oversight was minimal, and state disparities were maximal. Where education depended less on merit and more on zip code. Where civil rights were optional, and equity was a punchline.
If you think that’s the path to a brighter future — well, at least now you’ve got a lot more control over your kid’s curriculum. Just don’t expect any federal help when your school can’t afford textbooks.
Because as of March 20, 2025, the Department of Education is being told to pack up, shut up, and get out of the classroom.
And in the words of every snarky student who forgot to study for the final: “Good luck with that.”
