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Shaping education policy and systems through a lifetime of impact

7 min read
David Hursh sitting in his home office, smiling at the camera.

A Q&A with Professor Emeritus David Hursh on making a lasting impact on education.

For decades, Warner School Professor Emeritus David Hursh has stood at the crossroads of education, social justice, and environmental sustainability. A beloved mentor, rigorous scholar, and tireless advocate, Hursh's impact spans continents and classrooms alike. In this first-person account, we hear directly from Hursh as he reflects on a life devoted to asking the hard questions—and empowering others to do the same.

What inspired you to pursue a career in education?
People often assume that because I'm a professor, I have always been studious and knew that I wanted to become an educator, but that wasn't the case at all. Initially, a career in education seemed highly unlikely. I was placed in the vocational "non-college-bound" track in high school, where expectations were low. However, I loved to read and found myself gradually drawn to education through a combination of unexpected opportunities and personal curiosity. Admission to an architecture program based on a test I took, mostly to avoid detention, marked the beginning of my academic path. Later, counselors suggested I take a career aptitude test, which ironically recommended that I become an author — even though my writing was abysmal. It wasn't until I began engaging deeply with issues like the Vietnam War and existential philosophy that I discovered a passion for writing and education. I realized that through teaching, I could connect with others, learn collaboratively, and strive to make a difference.

Was there a moment when you knew education was your calling?
Yes. In the late 1960s, during a period of profound political and social upheaval, I became increasingly disillusioned with traditional university education. The assassinations of Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert Kennedy, along with the police riot at the 1968 Democratic National Convention, pushed me to question everything I thought I knew. I began reading widely and having deep, meaningful conversations outside of class — seeking answers that formal education wasn’t offering. That journey led me to the University for Man (UFM) at Kansas State University. What thrilled me most about UFM was that students met not for grades or credit, but out of genuine curiosity. 

You founded your own school early in your career. What was that like? 
I co-founded the Living-Learning School, an elementary school in Kansas rooted in Deweyan democratic principles. There were no desks in rows, no standardized tests, and no rigid curricula. Students helped determine what they wanted to learn and how. It was a space that welcomed children who had been pushed out of traditional schools and gave them agency and dignity. Every morning and afternoon began with students signing up for what they wanted to do that day. It was chaotic at times, but it was also deeply humanizing.

What brought you to the Warner School at the University of Rochester? 
After eight years of directing and teaching at the elementary school, I had a short stint consulting for the government and realized I hated that after leaving the school because I was seeking a greater purpose, and I challenged them to ask critical questions like, "Why are things this way? Who benefits from this structure?" I believed then, as I do now, that education is not just about transmitting knowledge but about transforming society.

What role did your academic journey play in your advocacy?
My academic path was winding but rich. After earning my BS in social sciences and MS in education from Kansas State University, I went on to complete a PhD in curriculum theory at the University of Wisconsin–Madison. There, I worked closely with critical theorist Michael Apple. It was an intellectually intense environment that helped me refine my ideas about democratic education and the societal role of schools.

How did your work extend beyond local communities?
Over the course of my career, I've engaged in nearly a dozen international initiatives focused on the intersections of education, justice, and sustainability. My journey has taken me globally, where I've delivered talks and collaborated on projects aimed at integrating real-world contexts into educational frameworks. Together with my wife, Camille Martina, we've spearheaded global environmental education initiatives, emphasizing the importance of ecological literacy.

In 2011, I had the privilege of working alongside economist Jeffrey Sachs at Columbia University, contributing to the United Nations' Millennium Development Goals in Africa. Additionally, my engagement with the Ford Foundation in South Africa allowed me to support initiatives aimed at reducing poverty and injustice. In places like the Republic of South Africa and New Zealand, I saw models of teaching that were relational, creative, and community-rooted — sometimes with far fewer resources, but often with more effective outcomes. These experiences showed me that justice in education means recognizing the value of multiple ways of learning and rethinking what we consider "quality" or "success."

What’s your approach to teaching about social and educational disparities? 
My approach is grounded in a critical analysis of neoliberal education reforms — policies that often promise to close achievement gaps but reinforce deeper systemic challenges. I emphasize that we can’t understand educational disparities without addressing broader societal issues like poverty, systemic racism, and the erosion of democratic participation in schooling. I helped found and am on the advisory board for Our Local History, one of the largest and most effective professional development projects in the United States, asserting that when students understand their community’s history, they gain the power to change it.

How would you describe your teaching style? 
Provocative — in a good way. I don't give easy answers. I ask tough questions and encourage students to do the same. Whether I'm speaking at the United Nations or in a classroom, my goal is to inspire critical thinking. I encourage students to disagree with me. I've always believed that a good question is more valuable than a good answer.

You’ve been a vocal critic of standardized testing. Why?
Standardized testing narrows the curriculum, discourages creativity, and demoralizes both students and teachers. It turns education into a numbers game. I co-founded the Coalition for Common Sense in Education and co-authored books like High-Stakes Testing and the Decline of Teaching and Learning and Opting Out: The Story of the Parents’ Grassroots Movement to Achieve Whole-Child Public Schools. That movement wasn’t just about saying "no" to tests — it was about reclaiming education for the whole child and initiating alternative and authentic ways of assessing student knowledge attainment.

What do you consider your greatest achievement?
Receiving the 2023 Paulo Freire Legacy Award from the American Educational Research Association was deeply meaningful. But honestly, what matters most is hearing from former students who say I never stopped being their teacher. That affirmation really solidified for me that I had accomplished what I originally set out to do: to support students in pursuing the questions that mattered to them and to help them shape their learning in meaningful ways.

You’ve faced health challenges recently. How has that changed your work? 
Parkinson's has certainly altered my day-to-day, but not my commitment. I still write, mentor, and think critically. These challenges have deepened my empathy and sharpened my sense of purpose. I’ve been thinking a lot about how we treat people with disabilities. Just because someone lives with a disease doesn’t mean they’re unintelligent or incomplete. Truly inclusive education must recognize that disability is not a deficiency. We don’t need pity. We need respect and the space to flourish.

What message would you like to leave for future educators?
Remain curious. Ask hard questions. Challenge unjust systems. Education isn’t about conformity — it’s about possibility. If you stay grounded in inquiry and justice, you will help build a better world.

What guiding questions have shaped your work throughout your career? 
The question that’s guided most of my work is: What do we need to know and be able to do to survive as a civilization? It’s a big, existential question, but it’s essential. It demands we rethink what we teach, how we teach, and why.

What ideas or themes do you hope your published work continues to inspire?
I hope it encourages people to situate education within broader contexts — economics, politics, and history. I want educators to think deeply about how their work contributes to human flourishing.

What do you think makes a meaningful mentor? 
A meaningful mentor understands that it’s not about them — it’s about the student. You need a trusting, honest relationship. The goal isn’t to win an argument with a student—it’s to guide their growth.

What changes in education give you hope?
New York State’s recent reforms around standards and assessments. They’re moving away from standardized testing and toward more holistic, interdisciplinary approaches. That shift gives me hope.

Where do you still see an urgent need for transformation?
We need a deeper conversation about what students should know and why. Real transformation requires us to take on the bigger questions—not just how we teach, but what kind of society we’re preparing students to build.

If you could spark one lasting shift in how we think about education, what would it be? 
I’d want us to stop thinking of education as a sorting mechanism or a way to produce workers and start thinking of it as a foundation for democracy. Education should build cohesion, promote inquiry, and nurture whole human beings.

What do you see as the most urgent crisis in education today?
The privatization of public education. We’re seeing corporations and ideological organizations shape curricula and assessments. We’re in danger of losing education as a democratic project—and with it, the ability to shape our collective futures.

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The Warner Legends Series

This profile is part of Warner Legends, a new series highlighting Warner School faculty, staff, and alumni who are leaders and changemakers in their fields. Each feature celebrates their impact, innovation, and commitment to shaping an ever better future for all through groundbreaking research, transformative teaching, engaged practice, and bold advocacy.