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Globalization defines an ever more interconnected, miniaturized, and fragile world. It flows from the growing movement of peoples, goods, services, and social practices among countries and regions. Migration is the human face of globalization; it is the sounds, colors, and aromas enveloping major cities today. For the first time in history, all continents are involved in the massive movement of people: as areas of immigration, emigration, transit, and return—and often as all four at once.

Over the last four decades, new information-communication and media technologies, the integration and disintegration of markets, and the movement of people globally have transformed countries and continents the world over. Globalization’s three Ms—markets, media, and migration—are the synergetic vectors of change shaping and reshaping the economy and society. New communication and media technologies have enabled the de-territorialization of labor, and, concurrently, the increasing global coordination of markets has stimulated significant new waves of migrant labor—internal and international. Immigrants, in turn, spur further globalization. As migration scholars David Leblang and Margaret E. Peters write, “migrants are an engine of globalization, especially for countries in the Global South. Migration and migrant networks serve to expand economic markets, distribute information across national borders, and diffuse democratic norms and practices throughout the world, increasing trade and investment flows.”1 In our research, we have argued that globalization’s new economies, technologies, and demographic changes are significant challenges for education systems the world over. In this essay, we focus on the human face of globalization by examining the journeys of immigrants and their children and the quest for educational equity. 

To contextualize these journeys, we must first trace the current arc of globalization over the last four decades: from its initial triumphalist exuberance to the current age of global fragility. In its most recent wave, globalization’s promise rested on the claim that economic integration among nations would bring about unprecedented benefits for both individuals and societies. Its advocates argued that the free market would accelerate the flow of goods, services, and capital across borders, encouraging specialization, competition, and economic growth. The global exchange of ideas, knowledge, and technology across nations would foster innovation and facilitate cultural understanding and interactions among people from different backgrounds. Actors in the emerging global stage would learn about and come to appreciate diverse cultures, traditions, and perspectives. Cross-cultural understandings would promote tolerance, empathy, and mutual respect. In its utopic form, globalization would promote peace and geopolitical stability by fostering socioeconomic interdependence among nations.2 Economically connected countries would have a vested interest in maintaining peaceful relations. In sum, globalization would boost wealth creation and further human flourishing by increasing economic and sociocultural exchanges, expanding markets, and creating new opportunities.

By the 1990s and the first decade of the twenty-first century, a “triumphalist globalization” had captured the imagination of its advocates. We saw the dawn of an era of neoliberal euphoria, with the deification of the free market and a deep suspicion and even outright rejection of market controls and regulations paving the way to the “hyperglobalist path.”3 A devotion to the supremacy of the market economy over all other possible arrangements for economic prosperity saw its purest form in the so-called Washington consensus: exuberantly embracing unfettered trade, floating exchange rates, and free markets. At their most inebriated moment, globalization’s viziers saw “the end of history,” when late capitalism at the turn of the century came to represent the summit of all possible human arrangements in the pursuit of wealth, human flourishing, and eudaemonia.4

Globalization has had its benefits, but also some unequivocal and entirely negative consequences.5 First, globalization’s outsized benefits have gone mostly to the wealthy and to multinational corporations. Second, globalization has created new unsustainable levels of income and wealth inequality both within and between nations.6 Third, high-income countries saw significant job losses in sectors that could not compete with cheaper overseas labor as entire industries and manufacturing sectors disappeared, migrating to countries with lower labor costs, lax regulations, and weak workers’ rights. Fourth, globalization has contributed to economic instability, as interconnected markets came to amplify financial crises and contagion.7 Fifth, the dominance of globalized media, the ascendency of consumerism, and the spread of Western ideologies came to erode cultural traditions, challenge local values, and degrade local identities.8 Globalization puts traditional societies on a pathway for what sociologist Anthony Giddens has termed detraditionalization. He claims that “tradition provides a framework for action that can go largely unquestioned. . . . Tradition gives stability, and the ability to construct a self-identity against a stable background.”9 Globalization, however, erodes norms “as local cultures and traditions are exposed to new cultures and ideas, which often means that traditional ways of acting come to be questioned. As a result of globalization, societies and cultures go through a process of detradition­alization, where day-to-day life becomes less and less informed by tradition.”10 Sixth, globalization stimulated increased resource consumption, leading to pollution and environmental degradation. The devouring of natural resources, the destruction of ancient forests, and the loss of biodiversity have accelerated over the last four decades of globalization.11 Transporting goods over long distances contributes to carbon emissions, while lax regulations in some countries have led to environmentally harmful practices.12 The global competition for precious minerals, metals, and other resources has fueled war and terror.13 These challenges are accelerating forced migrations and displacement, as families are compelled to leave their homes due to environmental disasters, war and terror, conflicts, and lack of economic opportunities.14

Moreover, by 2020, globalization delivered with stunning momentum the COVID-19 virus from one corner of China to the entire world. Thus, in two generations—roughly from the mid-1980s to the 2020s—the arc of globalization has gone from triumphalist exuberance to the age of global fragility. Economist Danni Rodrik sums up globalization’s wrong turn:

Globalization is in trouble. A populist backlash, personified by U.S. President Donald Trump, is in full swing. A simmering trade war between China and the United States could easily boil over. Countries across Europe are shutting their borders to immigrants. Even globalization’s biggest boosters now concede that it has produced lopsided benefits and that something will have to change. Today’s woes have their roots in the 1990s, when policymakers set the world on its current, hyperglobalist path, requiring domestic economies to be put in the service of the world economy instead of the other way around. In trade, the transformation was signaled by the creation of the World Trade Organization in 1995. The WTO not only made it harder for countries to shield themselves from international competition but also reached into policy areas that international trade rules had not previously touched: agriculture, services, intellectual property, industrial policy, and health and sanitary regulations.15

The rise of the globalization regime ushered in the ascendancy of migration on a planetary scale. International migration grew significantly since the turn of the millennium, reaching 281 million in 2022 after a previous high of 220 million in 2010 and 175 million in 2000. The largest international migration corridors are in Asia, Europe, and the Americas. By the 2020s, the largest number of international migrants (well over fifty million) resided in the United States of America, followed by Germany (approximately sixteen million), Saudi Arabia (almost fourteen million), the Russian Federation (approximately twelve million), and the United Kingdom of Great Britain, Wales, and Northern Ireland (over nine million). India is the largest country of origin of international migrants (with approximately eighteen million emigrants), followed by Mexico (twelve million). Today, women make up slightly less than half of all international migrants.16 

Global migration has generated pushback. Claims against the new immigrants have centered on job displacement, social integration, cultural assimilation, crime and national security, and the strain on public resources and services needed for new immigrants and their children. As the great migration of the global era saw large numbers of migrants from Latin America, Asia, and Africa—the vast majority being people of color—old atavistic fears took hold in the countries most affected by migration. Racist animus fueled by nativistic and supremacist politicians has propagated, exemplified by Donald Trump with like-minded politicians in Argentina, Austria, Brazil, Hungary, Italy, Poland and elsewhere. The United Kingdom exited the European Union, so-called Brexit, largely on an anti-immigrant platform. Thus, far from inaugurating an era of cultural understanding and convivencia, globalization came to ignite new fears and prejudices. 

While the enormous potential of human capital and intercultural exchanges reflects the exuberance of globalization, the friction of anti-immigrant animus and deepening inequities reflect its underbelly. Globally, in nearly all high-income countries, immigration has become a significant focus of media, political, and policy debates, though the children of immigration are rarely part of this conversation. As the labor migration of yesteryear begat new patterns of family reunification and as immigrants formed families in their new land, students of immigrant origin have rapidly changed the makeup of schools across many countries. Thus, within the school walls, the dynamics of the twin tensions of globalization play out daily. 

Who are our immigrant-origin students?17 They include both first-generation and second-generation youth. (The first generation are foreign-born, and the second generation are youth with at least one parent who is foreign-born.) Both groups have immigrant parents who were motivated to migrate for a variety of reasons.18 Migration, although sometimes driven by individual choices, is often influenced by socio­economic, historical, and political factors, as well as networks of relationships between sending and receiving countries, particularly when it occurs on a large scale across borders. Notably, the decision to migrate is never the child’s—though children must navigate their development within a disoriented family in a new land.

In the United States, immigrant-origin children make up the fastest-growing student population: 26 percent of all children and one-third of young adults have at least one immigrant parent.19 While it is difficult to establish precisely comparable percentages in other immigrant-receiving nations, a good proxy can be drawn from the Program for International Student Assessment (PISA). PISA collects data on fifteen-year-olds from OECD nations and enumerates “immigrant background” (having a parent born in a country other than where the PISA test was taken) among its demographic variables. In 2022, across the eighty-one OECD nations, the share of fifteen-year-old students with an immigrant background averaged 13 percent. In twenty-one OECD countries, the share of immigrant students was higher than 15 percent, and in eleven countries, it was higher than 25 percent. In Germany, 35 percent of fifteen-year-olds were classified as having an immigrant background. Similarly, 20 percent of fifteen-year-olds in the United Kingdom and 29 percent in Australia were classified as having an immigrant background.20 As such, immigrant-origin children and youth are now, and will continue to be, a diverse and demographically important segment of many high-income nations’ populations. 

Immigrants and their children are contributing to the rapid racial and ethnic diversification of the high-income countries they call home.21 Over the last half-century in the United States, the influx of immigrants from Asia and Latin America has significantly transformed the country’s demographic profile. Similarly, in Europe, substantial immigration from Africa, Asia, and Eastern Europe has led to increased racial and ethnic diversity. Australia has experienced substantial immigration from Asia, particularly China, India, and the Philippines, leading to its racial diversification. Canada has as well. 

Immigrants also contribute to the cultural diversification of their societies.22 Immigrants bring their native languages to their adopted countries; in the United States, there are now an estimated 350 languages spoken in homes across the country, many brought by immigrants and maintained through familial and community ties.23 Immigrants are also breathing new religiosity into their communities. In North America and Europe, immigrants are contributing to a significant growth in religious pluralism, with surges in Hinduism, Buddhism, and Islam occurring in societies that had previously been both predominantly Judeo-Christian and increasingly secular.24

Children in immigrant families come with a diverse range of skills and resources, and their experiences differ significantly based on the specific combination of these resources and their contexts of reception.25 Some are refugees (or asylum seekers) escaping political, religious, and social strife or environmental catastrophes. Others are motivated by the promise of better jobs, while still others frame their migration as an opportunity to provide better education for their children. Most are documented migrants, though millions are undocumented. Some join well-established communities with robust social supports, others settle in under-resourced high-poverty neighborhoods, and still others move from one migrant setting to another. Some receive excellent schooling in their countries of origin, while others leave educational systems that are in shambles. Some are the children of educated professionals, others have illiterate parents. 

Both first- and second-generation students share the experience of having immigrant parents and are less likely than nonimmigrant students to speak the language of the new country at home or share the cultural practices taken for granted in schools. Nonetheless, it is important to acknowledge that the first and second generations face distinct experiences.26 The first generation makes the transition to the new land within their own lifetime. Depending upon their age of arrival, navigating the losses of relationships, memories, and linguistic and cultural ties to their sending country and adjusting to their host society are among their personal challenges. For the first generation, key challenges often include adapting to a new culture and overcoming the traumas related to migration, particularly for refugees and asylum seekers. In contrast, the second generation more commonly faces the challenge of developing a complex ethnic-racial identity. For the second generation, the attachments to the sending country may be more abstract and are often filtered through parental/caregiver narratives.

Notably, “contexts of reception” (as coined by sociologists Alejandro Portes and Rubén Rumbaut) play an important role in adaptation and integration. Contexts of reception encompass the social policies, prevailing societal attitudes, and economic conditions in the host country.27 When these contexts are welcoming and inclusive, offering equitable access to resources and opportunities, immigrant youth are more likely to experience positive adaptation (including academic success, robust identity formation, and social integration). Conversely, if the contexts are characterized by hostility, discrimination, and structural barriers, the adaptation process can be adversely affected, leading to marginalization, identity struggles, and socioeconomic challenges. These contexts not only influence immediate adaptation, but also have long-term implications on the life trajectories of the immigrant-origin youth, ultimately affecting their ability to contribute to and participate in their new societies.

Despite these diversities of cultural origins, circumstances for migration, and contexts of reception, there is an array of shared experiences that can influence immigrant-origin students’ educational trajectories across contexts. In the face of adversity, immigrant-origin students demonstrate a repertoire of strengths and resiliencies that are often underrecognized. Key among these attributes is the embodiment of immigrant family—the enduring belief in a future that surpasses present circumstances—that emerges as a driving force in their pursuit of education and better life outcomes.28 This disposition is further enhanced by immigrants’ dual frame of reference—endowing them with the perspective to make sense of experiences in the context of both their countries of origin and their adopted countries—fueling flexibility and positive attitudes toward education.29

The robust ethic of familial support common in immigrant communities is the core of multiple strengths. This familial emphasis engenders a culture of shared responsibility and collective ambition, forming a vital pillar of resilience in the face of adversity.30 Families provide emotional support and facilitate community connections that help children navigate the stresses associated with adjusting to their new cultural environments. Moreover, immigrant families often nurture high educational aspirations in their children.31 Last, well-maintained home languages and traditions provide a sense of cultural continuity and identity coherence that can buffer against acculturative stress.32 And multilingual capabilities, far from being a deficit, are a considerable advantage for both the immigrant-origin students themselves and their larger communities within today’s interconnected world of commerce and industry.33 Their ability to navigate multiple languages cultivates cognitive flexibility, fosters empathy, and facilitates cross-cultural communication—attributes that contribute significantly to resilience. In short, fortified by hope, dual perspectives, a familial ethic of care, and multilingualism, immigrant-origin students display personal and familial resiliencies that serve to partially inoculate them to the tremendous challenges they too often encounter in their educational journeys.

Understanding the challenges that immigrant-origin students face is vital for developing effective strategies to support their educational transitions and success. Most first-generation students confront initial challenges related to language acquisition as they enter the K–12 educational system. These challenges can significantly impact self-confidence, accurate educational assessments, and academic pathways.34 Educational systems tend to prioritize funding for interventions around teaching the academic language of instruction to newcomers and students who are nonnative speakers. And newcomer students typically report being preoccupied with learning the language of their new land.35 While students often quickly learn what language-development scholar Jim Cummins has termed “basic interpersonal communication skills,” it takes many more years to achieve what he calls “cognitive academic language proficiency” comparable to that of native-born peers.36 Complicating matters, these students frequently struggle to access quality second-language programs due to underresourced schools and a dearth of adequately trained or supported educators.37 Standardized assessments, typically developed and normed for native-born speakers, pose additional challenges for these students; scores may not accurately reflect their academic understanding or skills, resulting in inappropriate instructional planning, misplacements, and gatekeeping.38 Further, the stress and stigma associated with the prolonged new academic language acquisition process can undermine self-esteem, motivation, and school engagement.39

First-generation immigrant students with limited or interrupted formal education constitute a growing segment of students in host language programs of instruction. Interruptions in schooling may occur for a variety of reasons, including displacements due to conflict or natural disasters, as well as complications in the migration journey; in some cases, students may have missed a few years, and in others, they may have never attended formal schooling at all.40 These interruptions pose substantial challenges to educational adjustment, attainment, and performance, often resulting in lower grades, increased risk of dropping out, and reduced likelihood of pursuing higher education.41 Additionally, interrupted schooling can exacerbate acculturative stress by making it more challenging for youth to adapt to new educational systems and norms, potentially leading to feelings of isolation and hindering social integration.42 These educational interruptions may also compound existing mental health vulnerabilities.43 

Immigrant-origin children—especially first generation and, within that group, asylum seekers, refugees, and unaccompanied youth—often experience traumatic events before, during, and after their migrations. Prior to migration, they may experience violence, war, persecution, or severe poverty in their home countries.44 During the migratory journey, they may encounter life-threatening situations, physical and emotional abuse, or separation from family members. After arrival, these children may confront further challenges, such as acculturative stress, discrimination, and difficulties adjusting to a new educational system, language, and culture.45 Additionally, these traumatic experiences may be compounded by the challenges of navigating complex immigration systems and potential legal insecurities flowing from their status.46 These multifaceted traumas can have profound impacts on the well-being and educational adjustment of immigrant-origin children. Further, while second-generation children may not experience firsthand immigration-related trauma, they—like first-generation children—may experience the effects of intergenerational trauma given the extreme stresses and anguish their parents and caregivers endured.47

Many first-generation students are separated from their parents and caregivers as part of the migratory experience, posing significant socioemotional and adaptive challenges. From a psychological perspective, separations can cause significant distress, anxiety, and depression, which may impede a child’s cognitive and socioemotional development.48 These emotional disturbances can negatively impact academic performance, concentration, and school attendance.49 The absence of parents or primary caregivers can also disrupt the child’s access to essential resources such as tutoring, emotional support, and help with navigating educational systems, thereby further complicating the educational adjustment.50 

Undocumented students and students in mixed-status families face unique and substantial challenges that impact their academic progress and psychological well-being.51 These include fear of deportation and associated family separations, discrimination, limited access to resources, and financial constraints. Additionally, they are confronted with virulent xenophobia, often resulting in a sense of marginalization and social exclusion.52 Access to resources is likewise constrained due to their (personal or familial) legal status, and they may lack opportunities for financial aid, limiting their possibilities for higher education and career development.53 

For immigrant-origin students in the K–12 system, the educational system in the United States is fraught with systemic and contextual challenges. Racial and economic segregation continue to plague our school systems, leading to highly uneven learning opportunities.54 Many schools remain largely unprepared to effectively serve the unique needs of these students, particularly in terms of addressing their socioemotional needs.55 The educational sector’s narrow focus on language acquisition—often driven by funding streams, data collection, and teacher education programs—may overlook crucial elements of the student experience, such as social-emotional learning and trauma-informed care.56 

Additionally, many teacher education programs lack robust training about immigrant-origin children or immigration issues, causing a disconnect between the principles of culturally sustaining pedagogy and actual instructional practices.57 This can result in educators who are ill-equipped to understand, respond to, or support the complex cultural, linguistic, and socioemotional needs of their immigrant-origin students.58 

Moreover, the absence of comprehensive and disaggregated data collection in school climate assessments—by factors such as generation, race/ethnicity, language, and religion—limits the ability to understand and address the varied experiences of immigrant-origin students in diverse classrooms.59 This is further complicated by an increasingly hostile sociopolitical climate toward immigration, marked by some states turning away from diversity, equity, and inclusion lenses in education.60 

The COVID-19 pandemic has exacerbated these contexts of reception and the vulnerabilities of international migrants.61 New data suggest that COVID-19 accelerated cascading anti-immigrant sentiments, making migrants vulnerable to hate crimes and social exclusion. Millions of Asian immigrants became targets of xenophobic violence and denigration as the former president of the United States and others framed the COVID-19 pandemic using vulgar terms like “the Chinese virus” and “kung flu.” According to FBI data, U.S. hate crimes against Asian Americans rose about 76 percent in 2020 amid the pandemic.62 

Following the emergency phase of the pandemic, job-related stresses posed a distinct threat: a thin supply of teachers, especially among faculty of color.63 Further, exceptionally high learning losses were reported in school districts serving immigrant-origin students and students of color.64 This situation has made it even more difficult for immigrant-origin children to access equitable education and achieve academic success.

However, the educational challenges that immigrant-origin students face are not unique to the United States. Similar concerns permeate school systems in other post-industrial countries. In Canada, for instance, schools often struggle to adequately meet the diverse linguistic and cultural needs of students, despite the country’s long-standing commitment to multiculturalism and inclusion.65 Similarly, in Germany, Sweden, and Australia, a strong focus on language acquisition can overshadow the broader social-emotional needs of students; teacher education programs rarely include training about immigration-related issues or culturally responsive pedagogy, nor are trauma-informed care supports provided.66 The COVID-19 pandemic has amplified these preexisting disparities across these nations as well, often resulting in higher learning losses among immigrant-origin students and students of color than their white/nonimmigrant peers.67 Moreover, much like the United States, these countries have faced a sociopolitical climate increasingly hostile to immigration, which further complicates the educational experiences of immigrant-origin students.68

As such, immigrant-origin children globally face a strong undertow. Given the high proportions of students of immigrant origin, providing them with adequate and equitable educational opportunities is not simply ethical and just, but also an economic and societal imperative. Without a sharp educational focus, immigrant-origin students are more likely to experience academic underachievement, higher dropout rates, and a decreased likelihood of pursuing higher education, as well as miss opportunities for higher remuneration in the labor market.69 As education is a significant driver of socioeconomic mobility, immigrant-origin students who do not receive equitable educational opportunities are at a higher risk of experiencing long-term economic disadvantages.70 This not only affects each individual’s economic mobility but also impacts the broader society by underdeveloping the potential contributions of all its members. Because immigrant-origin students are a significant and growing part of the future workforce, underinvesting in their education will lead to a less skilled workforce, with wide-reaching implications for the economic competitiveness and innovation potential of society. Last, as many countries face aging populations, immigrant-origin students represent an impor­tant demographic critical for sustaining economic growth; failing to invest in their education is a missed opportunity to address these challenges.71

Beyond economic arguments, there are socioemotional and social cohesion arguments for providing equitable, welcoming, and inclusive education to immigrant-origin students. When students do not see their cultural backgrounds represented and valued in their education, it can impact their self-esteem and sense of belonging, leading to alienation and identity conflicts.72 If inadequately supported, immigrant-origin students may struggle to integrate fully into society, with potential implications for broader social divisions and a lack of social cohesion. Conversely, providing these supports has the potential to lead not just to higher levels of personal well-being, but also to greater intercultural understanding.73 

How, then, should host societies shoulder their responsibility in the quest to provide equitable educational opportunities for their youngest members? What educational policies and practices across postindustrial nations are required to better serve this significant and growing sector of the student population? Most data, practice, and funding for immigrant-origin students in education have focused on the domain of language learning.74 While language acquisition is clearly linked to both cognitive and academic development, a narrow focus on language development has tended to neglect many of the other critical domains of a whole-child approach.75

A whole-child approach is child-centered and considers several domains of child development. These include the classic foci of schooling: the academic (attainment of core literacy, math, science, and social science skills and knowledge) and cognitive (related to attention, perception, and memory) domains. However, the whole-child approach also encompasses the mental (a state of well-being to cope with the stresses of life and attain potential), social-emotional (skills and mindsets related to self-regulation, stress management, social interactions, and resilience), and physical (such as wellness, nutrition, and sleep) domains. Last, it recognizes the central role of identity (including personal, cultural, racial, and ethnic identities) and belonging. Each of these domains of development are interrelated and must be addressed for children to thrive.76 

A guiding principle of an equitable whole-child approach specifies providing care within transformative settings.77 Such settings begin with a focus on developing positive relationships between educators and students, between students, and between educators and caregivers. This is essential to establish a safe class and school setting where all students from every cultural, ethnic, and racial background feel like they belong. Learning experiences necessarily should be rich, meaningful, engaging, and inquiry and problem-solving based; students should see themselves reflected in the curriculum while learning perspectives across cultures and history.78 As neuroscience now makes clear, however, academic development does not stand alone. As such, schools should incorporate both structures and practices that support students in the social-emotional learning of habits, skills, mindsets around self-awareness, self-regulation, and self-calming; task planning and implementation; perspective and empathy taking; and positive interpersonal relations and conflict resolution.79 

A transformative whole child–oriented setting that aims to provide equitable care and educational services begins with supports provided in a tiered manner.80 Tier 1–Universal Supports are provided across all classrooms to all students, prioritizing relationships, a climate of cultural safety and belonging, and enriched learning environments, while incorporating social-emotional skills. Tier 2–Integrated Supplemental Supports are provided as extra supports are needed, including, for example, tutoring, after-school programs, counseling, and social work supports. Tier 3–Intensive Personalized Supports should be provided on a timely basis for students identified with greater needs, including special education services, health and mental health services, and family assistance, among others. This is good practice for all students.

Various structural practices have value for immigrant-origin students at the school level.81 One such practice involves extending opportunities for learning across both the school day and the school year—allowing students to catch up following interrupted learning and family and work responsibilities. Community partnerships also have the potential to extend the reach of schools in dramatic ways, as community members and organizations are often trusted by caregivers and can provide services that schools are simply unable to deliver.82 Advisory periods are integral to establishing a community of relationships in which students and educators can connect in essential ways. Further, educators must be provided with ample professional development and coaching to be equipped to give necessary support to their students.

Long-standing research and practice have established many productive instructional approaches essential for immigrant-origin students to reach their potential. For example, for students to learn optimally, they should be allowed to use their own home language(s) as well as the language of instruction as they engage in learning—a practice known as translanguaging.83 Students should be grouped together in purposeful ways—either heterogeneously or homogenously—depending on the task, as intentional grouping can provide students with peer support and help ensure students are working within their zone of proximal development.84 Principles of universal design for learning provide flexible options and differentiated instruction to ensure greater access to learning across a range of learners. Students with limited or interrupted formal instruction need extra support to make up for gaps in classroom experience. Such support can include additional instruction and an intentional focus on literacy, providing differentiation and scaffolding for language and content learning. Last, checking for understanding and attainment of learning goals should occur throughout the year. It should be incorporated holistically across all domains of development using various strategies, including portfolios (a collection of student work that demonstrates their efforts, progress, and achievements across various areas of the curriculum over time). 

The quality of the school climate has implications for school belonging, academic achievement, and healthy developmental outcomes.85 Evidence, however, suggests that students from marginalized immigrant backgrounds experience worse school climates than their white and more privileged peers, reporting more bullying, less interpersonal safety, and less connection with their teachers.86 

Further, xenophobic and exclusionary attitudes and policies have increased over the past decade and have trickled into school settings.87 To better promote healthy school climates for all students, we must begin by accurately understanding how students are experiencing their schools. Thus, schools should comprehensively assess school climates by intentionally soliciting perspectives directly from all students, including their students of immigrant origin. This process should seek to understand the role of students’ distinct social identities in shaping their school experience through both close- and open-ended response options. This should include a careful examination and response to reports of bullying and discrimination, recognizing that students, faculty, and staff all can act as bullies. The quality of interpersonal relationships is fundamental for the school climate. Positive student-teacher and peer relationships are protective buffers that promote a positive school climate and must be intentionally cultivated. Thus, establishing school and class norms that include intergroup respect and antibullying, as well as advisory groups, may enhance relationships.88 

A whole-child approach attends to well-being and social-emotional development for all students to reach their potential. This is especially essential for immigrant-origin students, given that immigration involves managing losses of relationships and family separations, negotiating acculturation and hybrid identities, and forging pathways to belonging, among many other complex facets. 

Many immigrants have experienced a variety of traumas. A trauma-informed lens of practice attending to social, emotional, and mental health domains is essential for learning and thriving.89 A whole-student approach takes a resilience- and asset-based perspective and a trauma-informed approach while explicitly providing instruction around transformative social-emotional skill supports.90 It also requires centering culturally responsive learning communities where students see themselves reflected in the curriculum and where they see that their caregivers are welcomed and respected.91 

As a last recommendation, we focus on teacher preparation programs. A foundational premise of culturally responsive and culturally sustaining practice is a baseline understanding of the experiences and assets of the students and families being served.92 However, there is a large gap between most educational preparation programs and the realities of the lives of immigrant students attending schools across high-income countries. In 2002, teacher education scholar A. Lin Goodwin scanned the research literature to examine how teacher preparation addressed immigrant children.93 She identified a significant gap beyond addressing second-language acquisition. Fifteen years later, she reexamined the field to consider whether educators were better “prepared to work with immigrant children.”94  Lamentably, she found minimal progress. We wholeheartedly concur with education policy researcher Carolyn Sattin-Bajaj and colleagues’ call to action: “It is time for teacher education to realize its mandate to prepare teachers for the students of today and tomorrow, and this means embracing the centrality of immigration in a growing share of students’, families’ and, increasingly, in educators’ lives.”95 

Immigrant-origin children face considerable challenges as they navigate complex currents in new countries, particularly during their transitions. At the same time, it is essential to acknowledge, appreciate, and build upon newcomers’ resilience, hope, and work ethic. Concurrently, we must endeavor to lessen and reverse the powerful undertow of xenophobic disparagement threatening to drown the children of immigrants and refugees in anomic withdrawal from the new society. Unless we do, we risk them never reaching their potential, sinking into despair, or being driven to the underground economy or long-distance nationalism. Providing the kinds of ecologies of care outlined above will go a long way toward helping these children and youth thrive and become contributing members to their new global societies, serving our collective future well.96

Endnotes

• 1David Leblang and Margaret E. Peters, “Immigration and Globalization (and Deglobal­ization),” Annual Review of Political Science 25 (1) (2022): 377.
• 2Ju Hyun Pyun and Jong-Wha Lee, “,” VoxEU, March 21, 2009.
• 3See Dani Rodrik, “Globalization’s Wrong Turn and How It Hurt America,” Foreign Affairs 98 (4) (2019): 26–33.
• 4Francis Fukuyama, The End of History and the Last Man (Free Press, 2006).
• 5The World Bank and the Development Research Center of the State Council, the People’s Republic of China, Four Decades of Poverty Reduction in China: Drivers, Insights for the World, and the Way Ahead (The World Bank and the Development Research Center of the State Council, the People’s Republic of China, 2022).
• 6Joseph Stiglitz, The Price of Inequality (Norton, 2006); Joseph Stiglitz, How Today’s Divided ­Society Endangers Our Future (Norton, 2012); and Zia Qureshi, “,” Brookings Institution, May 16, 2023.
• 7Ian Goldin and Tiffany Vogel, “Global Governance and Systemic Risk in the 21st Century: Lessons from the Financial Crisis,” Global Policy 1 (1) (2010): 4–15.
• 8Marcelo Suárez-Orozco and Desiree Qin-Hilliard, eds., Globalization Culture and Education in the New Millennium (University of California Press, 2006).
• 9Anthony Giddens, Runaway World: How Globalization is Reshaping Our Lives (Routledge, 2002).
• 10Karl Thompson, “,” ReviseSociology, August 21, 2016. See also Jihane Ziyan, “,” Medium, February 26, 2023.
• 11Thomas K. Rudel, Ruth Defries, Gregory P. Asner, and William F. Laurance, “Changing Drivers of Deforestation and New Opportunities for Conservation,” Conservation Biology 23 6 (2009): 1396–1405.
• 12Environmental Protection Agency, “” (accessed July 30, 2024).
• 13Global Policy Forum, “” (accessed August 13, 2023).
• 14Marcelo M. Suárez-Orozco, ed., Humanitarianism and Mass Migration: Confronting the World Crisis (University of California Press, 2019).
• 15Rodrik, “Globalization’s Wrong Turn and How It Hurt America.”
• 16International Organization for Migration and United Nations Migration, (International Organization for Migration, 2022).
• 17Note that OECD, in its PISA data, describes these same students as having an “immigrant background.” See Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development, “.”
• 18Carola Suárez-Orozco and Marcelo M. Suárez-Orozco, Children of Immigration (Harvard University Press, 2001); Carola Suárez-Orozco, Mona M. Abo-Zena, and Amy K. Marks, eds., Transitions: The Development of Children of Immigrants (NYU Press, 2015); Migration Policy Institute, “”; and United Nations Development Programme, Human Development Report 2009: Overcoming Barriers: Human Mobil­ity and Development (United Nations Development Programme, 2009).
• 19Migration Policy Institute, “Children in Immigrant U.S. Families.”
• 20Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development, PISA 2022 Results (Volume 1): The State of Learning and Equity in Education (OECD Publishing, 2023), chap. 7, “.”
• 21United Nations Department of Economic and Social Affairs, Population Division, (United Nations, 2019); U.S. Census Bureau, “”; Eurostat, European Commission, “,” April 11, 2024 (accessed August 13, 2024); Australian Bureau of Statistics, (Australian Bureau of Statistics, 2018); and Statistics Canada, “,” 2021 (accessed July 30, 2024).
• 22Steven Vertovec, “Super-Diversity and its Implications,” Ethnic and Racial Studies 30 (6) (2007): 1024–1054.
• 23U.S. Census Bureau, “2020 ACS 1-Year Estimates.”
• 24Pew Research Center, (Pew Research Center, 2015).
• 25Alejandro Portes and Rubén G. Rumbaut, Immigrant America: A Portrait, 4th ed. (University of California Press, 2024); and Carola Suárez-Orozco, Marcelo Suárez-Orozco, and Irina Todorova, Learning a New Land: Immigrant Students in American Society (Harvard University Press, 2008).
• 26Rubén G. Rumbaut, “Ages, Life Stages, and Generational Cohorts: Decomposing the Immigrant First and Second Generations in the United States,” International Migration Review 38 (3) (2004): 1160–1205; and Carola Suárez-Orozco, Mona M. Abo-Zena, and Amy K. Marks, eds., Transitions: The Development of Children of Immigrants (NYU Press, 2015).
• 27Portes and Rumbaut, Immigrant America; and Carola Suárez-Orozco, Frosso Motti-Stefandi, Amy Marks, and Dala Katsiaficas, “An Integrative Risk and Resilience Model for Understanding the Adaptation of Immigrant-Origin Children and Youth,” American Psychologist 73 (6) (2018): 781.
• 28Vivian Louie, Keeping the Immigrant Bargain: The Costs and Rewards of Success in America (Russell Sage Foundation, 2012), 8; Muhammad Syed, “Hope and Optimism as Basic Human Strengths in the Face of Adversity: A Positive Psychology Perspective,” International Journal of Applied Positive Psychology 1 (2016): 41–53; and Min Zhou, “Growing Up American: The Challenge Confronting Immigrant Children and Children of Immigrants,” Annual Review of Sociology 23 (1) (1997): 63–95.
• 29Marcelo M. Suárez-Orozco, Central American Refugees and U.S. High Schools: A Psychosocial Study of Motivation and Achievement (Stanford University Press, 1989); Louie, Keeping the Immigrant Bargain; and Portes and Rumbaut, Immigrant America.
• 30Suárez-Orozco and Suárez-Orozco, Children of Immigration; and Frosso Motti-Stefanidi, “Resilience Among Immigrant Youth: The Role of Culture, Development, and Acculturation,” Developmental Review 50 (Part A) (2018): 99–109.
• 31Andrew Fuligni, “Family Obligation, College Enrollment, and Emerging Adulthood in Asian and Latin American Families,” Child Development Perspectives 1 (2) (2007): 96–100.
• 32Selcuk R. Sirin, Esther Sin, Clare Clingain, and Lauren Rogers-Sirin, “Acculturative Stress and Mental Health: Implications for Immigrant-Origin Youth,” Pediatric Clinics 66 (3) (2019): 641–653.
• 33Ellen Bialystok, “Reshaping the Mind: The Benefits of Bilingualism,” Canadian Journal of Experimental Psychology 65 (4) (2011): 229–235; and Jim Cummins, Language, Power, and Pedagogy: Bilingual Children in the Crossfire (Multilingual Matters, 2000).
• 34Suárez-Orozco, Suárez-Orozco, and Todorova, Learning a New Land.
• 35Ibid.
• 36Jim Cummins, “BICS and CALP: Empirical and Theoretical Status of the Distinction,” in Encyclopedia of Language and Education: Literacy, ed. Brian V. Street and Nancy H. Hornberger (Springer, 2008); and Nelson Flores and Ofelía García, “A Critical Review of Bilingual Education in the United States: From Basements and Pride to Boutiques and Profit,” Annual Review of Applied Linguistics 37 (2017): 14–29. We have articulated coherent critiques of Cummins’s emphasis on cognitive academic language proficiency attainment beyond the scope of this essay. We fully recognize the multiple advantages of multilingualism and wholeheartedly agree that emerging bilinguals benefit from scaffolding on translanguaging skills and bilingual instruction. Learning the language of instruction to the level that allows being competitive with native-born English speakers is, nonetheless, a reoccurring preoccupation of first-generation students and warrants discussion as a challenge. See Suárez-Orozco, Suárez-Orozco, and Todorova, Learning a New Land; Ellen Bialystok, Bilingualism in Development: Language, Literacy, and Cognition (Cambridge University Press, 2001); and Cummins, Language, Power, and Pedagogy.
• 37Kate Menken and Tatyana Kleyn, “The Long-Term Impact of Subtractive Schooling in the Educational Experiences of Secondary English Language Learners,” International Journal of Bilingual Education and Bilingualism 13 (4) (2010): 399–417.
• 38Jamal Abedi, “The No Child Left Behind Act and English Language Learners: Assessment and Accountability Issues,” Educational Researcher 33 (1) (2004): 4–14.
• 39Suárez-Orozco, Suárez-Orozco, and Todorova, Learning a New Land.
• 40Andrea DeCapua and Helaine W. Marshall, Breaking New Ground: Teaching Students With Limited or Interrupted Formal Education in U.S. Secondary Schools (University of Michigan Press, 2011).
• 41Robert Crosnoe, “The Diverse Experiences of Hispanic Students in the American Educational System,” Sociological Forum 20 (4) (2005): 561–588; and Suárez-Orozco, Suárez-Orozco, and Todorova, Learning a New Land.
• 42Carolin Hagelskamp, Carola Suárez-Orozco, and Diane Hughes, “Migrating to Oppor­tunities: How Family Migration Motivations Shape Academic Trajectories Among Newcomer Immigrant Youth,” Journal of Social Issues 66 (4) (2010): 717–739.
• 43Seline Szkupinski Quiroga, Dulce M. Medina, and Jennifer Glick, “In the Belly of the Beast: Effects of Anti-Immigration Policy on Latino Community Members,” American Behavioral Scientist 58 (13) (2014): 1723–1742.
• 44Marcelo M. Suárez-Orozco, ed., Humanitarianism and Mass Migration: Confronting the World Crisis (University of California Press, 2019); and Matthew Hodes, Daljit Jagdev, Navin Chandra, and Anna Cunniff, “Risk and Resilience for Psychological Distress Amongst Unaccompanied Asylum Seeking Adolescents,” Journal of Child Psychology and Psychiatry 49 (7) (2008): 723–732.
• 45Carola Suárez-Orozco, Hee Jin Bang, and Ha Yeon Kim, “I Felt Like My Heart was Staying Behind: Psychological Implications of Family Separations and Reunifications for Immigrant Youth,” Journal of Adolescent Research 26 (2) (2011): 222–257.
• 46Joanna Dreby, “The Burden of Deportation on Children in Mexican Immigrant Families,” Journal of Marriage and Family 74 (4) (2012): 829–845.
• 47Cindy C. Sangalang and Cindy Vang, “Intergenerational Trauma in Refugee Families: A Systematic Review,” Journal of Immigrant and Minority Health 19 (2019): 745–754; and Jessica P. Cerdeña, Luisa Rivera, and Judy Spak, “Intergenerational Trauma in Latinxs: A Scoping Review,” Social Science and Medicine 270 (2021).
• 48Suárez-Orozco, Hee, and Kim, “I Felt Like My Heart was Staying Behind.”
• 49Robert Crosnoe and Ruth N. Lopez Turley, “K–12 Educational Outcomes of Immigrant Youth,” The Future of Children 21 (1) (2011): 129–152.
• 50Dreby, “The Burden of Deportation on Children in Mexican Immigrant Families.”
• 51Hirokazu Yoshikawa, Carola Suárez Orozco, and Roberto Gonzales, “Unauthorized Status and Youth Development in the United States: Consensus Statement of the Society for Research on Adolescence,” Journal of Research on Adolescence 27 (1) (2017): 4–19; Leisy Janet Abrego, “‘I Can’t Go to College Because I Don’t Have Papers’: Incorporation Patterns of Latino Undocumented Youth,” Latino Studies 4 (3) (2006): 212–231; and Oksana Yakusko, Autumn Backhaus, Megan Watson, et al., “Career Development Concerns of Recent Immigrants and Refugees,” Journal of Career Development 34 (4) (2008): 362–396.
• 52Roberto G. Gonzales, Carola Suárez-Orozco, and Maria Cecilia Dedios-Sanguineti, “No Place to Belong: Contextualizing Concepts of Mental Health Among Undocumented Immigrant Youth in the United States,” American Behavioral Scientist 57 (8) (2013): 1174–1199.
• 53Veronica Terriquez, “Dreams Delayed: Barriers to Degree Completion Among Undocumented Community College Students,” Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies 41 (8) (2015): 1302–1323.
• 54Sean F. Reardon, Ericka Weathers, Erin Fahle, et al., “” (Stanford Center for Policy Analysis, 2019); and Suárez-Orozco, Suárez-Orozco, and Todorova, Learning a New Land.
• 55Carola Suárez-Orozco, “,” Immigrant Initiative at Harvard Education Brief (Immigration Initiative at Harvard, 2023).
• 56Crosnoe and Lopez Turley, “K–12 Educational Outcomes of Immigrant Youth.”
• 57A. Lin Goodwin, “Teacher Preparation and the Education of Immigrant Children,” Education and Urban Society 34 (2) (2002): 156–172; A. Lin Goodwin, “Who is in the Classroom Now? Teacher Preparation and the Education of Immigrant Children,” Educational Studies 53 (5) (2017): 433–449; Louie, Keeping the Immigrant Bargain; and Django Paris, “Culturally Sustaining Pedagogy: A Needed Change in Stance, Terminology, and Practice,” Educational Researcher 41 (3) (2012): 93–97.
• 58Tamara Lucas and Ana María Villegas, “A Framework for Preparing Linguistically Responsive Teachers,” in Teacher Preparation for Linguistically Diverse Classrooms, ed. Tamara Lucas (Routledge, 2010), 75–92.
• 59Adam Voight, Thomas Hanson, Meagan O’Malley, and Latifah Adekanye, “The Racial School Climate Gap: Within-School Disparities in Students’ Experiences of Safety, Support, and Connectedness,” American Journal of Community Psychology 56 (3–4) (2015): 252–267.
• 60John Rogers, Michael Ishimoto, Alexander Kwako, et al., “,” UCLA Institute for Democracy, Education, and Access, March 13, 2019; and Reardon, Weathers, Fahle, et al., “Is Separate Still Unequal?”
• 61International Organization for Migration and United Nations Migration, World Migration Report 2022.
• 62Center for the Study of Hate and Extremism, California State University, San Bernardino, “,” June 1, 2021.
• 63Elizabeth D. Steiner and Ashley Woo, “” (RAND Corporation, 2021).
• 64Marcelo Suárez-Orozco, ed., The COVID-19 Generation—Children and Youth In and ­After the Pandemic, Studia Selecta 9 (Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 2023); and Megan Kuhfeld, James Soland, Beth Tarasawa, et al., “Projecting the Potential Impact of COVID-19 School Closures on Academic Achievement,” Educational Researcher 49 (8) (2020): 549–565.
• 65James Cummins, “Multiliteracies and Equity: How Do Canadian Schools Measure Up?” Education Canada 46 (2) (2006): 4–7.
• 66Frauke Miera, “,” paper prepared for the EMILIE project, WP3, Deliverable D4, European University Viadrina Frankfurt (Oder), 2008; Nihad Bunar, Nyanlända Och Lärande: en Forskningsöversikt Om Nyanlända Elever i Den Svenska Skolan [New Arrivals and Learning: A Research Overview on Newly Arrived Students in Swedish Schools] (Swedish Research Council, 2010); and Julie Matthews, “Schooling and Settlement: Refugee Education in Australia,” International Studies in Sociology of Education 18 (1) (2008): 31–45.
• 67Simon Burgess and Hans Henrik Sievertsen, “,” VoxEU and Center for Economic Policy Research Policy, April 1, 2020.
• 68Thomas Huddleston, Özge Bilgilil, Anne-Line Joki, and Zveda Vankova, Migrant Integration Policy Index 2015 (Barcelona Centre for International Affairs and Migrant Policy Group, 2015).
• 69Rebecca Callahan, Leslie Gautsch, Megan Hopkins, and Maria Del Carmen Unda, “Equity and State Immigrant Inclusivity: English Learner Education in ESSA,” Educational Policy 36 (5) (2022): 1011–1053.
• 70Pew Research Center, “,” February 11, 2014.
• 71Giovanni Peri, “,” Finance & Development Magazine, International Monetary Fund, March 2020.
• 72James A. Banks, Cultural Diversity and Education: Foundations, Curriculum, and Teaching (Routledge, 2015); Geneva Gay, Culturally Responsive Teaching: Theory, Research, and Practice, 3rd ed. (Teachers College Press, 2018); and Paris, “Culturally Sustaining Pedagogy.”
• 73Banks, Cultural Diversity and Education; and Thomas F. Pettigrew, “Intergroup Contact Theory,” Annual Review of Psychology 49 (1) (1998): 65–85.
• 74Kristin Blagg and Marguerite Lukes, “Leveraging Nuanced Data to Inform Research and Policy for Immigrant Students and Families: An Essay for the Learning Curve” (Urban Institute, 2022).
• 75Nel Noddings, “What Does it Mean to Educate the Whole Child?” Educational Leadership 63 (1) (2005): 8.
• 76Linda Darling-Hammond and Channa M. Cook-Harvey, Educating the Whole Child: Improving School Climate to Support School Success (Learning Policy Institute, 2018).
• 77Linda Darling-Hammond, Pamela Cantor, Laura E. Hernández, et al., Design Principles for Schools: Putting the Science of Learning and Development into Action (Learning Policy Institute, 2021).
• 78Ibid.; and Django Paris and H. Samy Alim, eds., Culturally Sustaining Pedagogies: Teaching and Learning for Justice in a Changing World (Teachers College Press, 2017).
• 79Robert J. Jagers, Deborah Rivas-Drake, and Teresa Borowski, “Equity and Social and Emotional Learning: A Cultural Analysis” (Collaborative for Academic, Social, and Emotional Learning, 2018).
• 80Darling-Hammond, Cantor, Hernández, et al., Design Principles for Schools.
• 81Monisah Bajaj, Daniel Walsh, Lesley Bartlett, and Gabriela Martínez, Humanizing Education for Immigrant and Refugee Youth: 20 Strategies for the Classroom and Beyond (Teachers College Press, 2022); Carola Suárez-Orozco, Margary Martin, Mikael Alexandersson, et al., “Promising Practices: Preparing Children of Immigrants in New York and Sweden,” in The Children of Immigrants at School: A Comparative Look at Integration in the United States and Western Europe, ed. Richard Alba and Jennifer Holdaway (New York University Press, 2013), 204–251; and Suárez-Orozco, “A Whole Child Approach.”
• 82Bajaj, Walsh, Bartlett, and Martínez, Humanizing Education for Immigrant and Refugee Youth.
• 83Ofelia García and Angel M. Y. Lin, “Translanguaging in Bilingual Education,” in Bilingual and Multilingual Education, ed. Ofelia García, Angel M. Y. Lin, and Stephen May (Springer, 2017), 117–130.
• 84Bajaj, Walsh, Bartlett, and Martínez, Humanizing Education for Immigrant and Refugee Youth.
• 85Christopher D. Slaten, Jonathan K. Ferguson, Kelly-Ann Allen, et al., “School Belonging: A Review of the History, Current Trends, and Future Directions,” The Educational and Developmental Psychologist 33 (1) (2016): 1–15; Ruth Berkowitz, Hadass Moore, Ron Avi Astor, and Rami Benbenishty, “A Research Synthesis of the Associations Between Socioeconomic Background, Inequality, School Climate, and Academic Achievement,” Review of Educational Research 87 (2) (2017): 425–469; and Jill M. Aldridge and Katrina McChesney, “The Relationships Between School Climate and Adolescent Mental Health and Wellbeing: A Systematic Literature Review,” International Journal of Educational Research 88 (2018): 121–145.
• 86Jannat Fatima Farooqui and Archana Kaushik, “Understanding Islamophobia Through the Eyes of American Muslim Children: Religious Bullying and School Social Work Interventions,” Child & Family Social Work 26 (3) (2021): 454–466; and Jacob Kirksey and Carolyn Sattin-Bajaj, “Immigration Arrests and Educational Impacts: Linking ICE Arrests to Declines in Achievement, Attendance, and School Climate and Safety in California,” AERA Open 7 (2) (2021).
• 87Rogers, Ishimoto, Kwako, et al., “School and Society in the Age of Trump”; Randy Capps, Muzaffar Chishti, Julia Gelatt, et al., Revving Up the Deportation Machinery: Enforcement and Pushback under Trump (Migration Policy Institute, 2018); and Jessica Bolter, Emma Israel, and Sarah Pierce, Four Years of Profound Change: Immigration Policy During the Trump Presidency (Migration Policy Institute, 2022). See also Jongyeon Ee and Patricia Gándara, “The Impact of Immigration Enforcement on the Nation’s Schools,” American Educational Research Journal 57 (2) (2020): 840–871; Rebecca Lowenhaupt, Dafney Blanca Dabach, and Ariana Mangual Figueroa, “Safety and Belonging in Immigrant-Serving Districts: Domains of Educator Practice in a Charged Political Landscape,” AERA Open 7 (2) (2021); Suárez-Orozco, Suárez-Orozco, and Todorova, Learning a New Land; and Carola Suárez-Orozco, “Countering Cascading Xenophobia: Educational Settings at the Frontline,” in Education: A Global Compact for a Time of Crisis, ed. Marcelo Suárez-Orozco and Carola Suárez-Orozco (Columbia University Press, 2022), 118–138.
• 88Bajaj, Walsh, Bartlett, and Martínez, Humanizing Education for Immigrant and Refugee Youth.
• 89Todd I. Herrenkohl, Sunghyun Hong, and Bethany Verbrugge, “Trauma-Informed Programs Based in Schools: Linking Concepts to Practices and Assessing the Evidence,” American Journal of Community Psychology 64 (3–4) (2019): 373–388.
• 90Jagers, Rivas-Drake, and Borowski, “Equity and Social and Emotional Learning.”
• 91Jessika H. Bottiani, Kristine E. Larson, Katrina J. Debnam, et al., “Promoting Educators’ Use of Culturally Responsive Practices: A Systematic Review of Inservice Interventions,” Journal of Teacher Education 69 (4) (2018): 367–385; and Paris and Alim, eds., Culturally Sustaining Pedagogies.
• 92Geneva Gay, Culturally Responsive Teaching: Theory, Research, and Practice (Teachers College Press, 2018); and Paris and Alim, eds., Culturally Sustaining Pedagogies.
• 93Goodwin, “Teacher Preparation and the Education of Immigrant Children.”
• 94Goodwin, “Who is in the Classroom Now?”
• 95Carolyn Sattin-Bajaj, Juan Barrera Alcazar, Damhee Dee Dee Hong, and Maria Romo-González, “An Expanded Framework for Preparing Teachers to Educate Children of Immigrant Backgrounds,” Teaching and Teacher Education 129 (2023): 9.
• 96Nel Noddings, “Care Ethics and ‘Caring’ Organizations,” Care Ethics and Political Theory (2015): 72–84.