I am an art teacher in the Concord School District’s public schools. I am also a parent and a taxpayer in this community.
That is why I cannot stay silent as our district faces the loss of 42 teaching positions. Among those cuts are two positions in the arts.
Forty-two teachers is not a minor adjustment. It is not “tightening the belt.” It is a crisis. And for the students, families and educators of Concord, it represents something far greater than numbers on a spreadsheet.
What makes this moment especially painful is the timing.
This is Youth Art Month, when Concord proudly celebrates student creativity and publicly affirms the value of arts education. Right now, our district’s Annual Youth Art Month Show is on display at the City Wide Community Center, showcasing student artwork across grade levels and highlighting Concord’s stated commitment to fostering creativity through arts education. The exhibit runs through March 31.
And yet, at the very same time, two of the 42 teaching positions being cut are in the arts.
That contradiction should stop all of us in our tracks.
As a middle school art teacher, I see every day what public education provides that cannot be measured by test scores or budget lines. I see students come into my classroom carrying stress, anxiety, grief, frustration and self-doubt, and find a place where they can breathe. I see students who struggle in traditional academic settings discover confidence through creativity. I see students who feel invisible elsewhere finally feel seen.
The arts are not an extra. They are not a luxury. They are part of what makes school meaningful, humane and engaging for so many children.
But this is not just about the arts.
When a district loses 42 teaching positions, every student feels it. Class sizes grow. Course offerings shrink. Teachers are stretched thinner. Relationships disappear. Support becomes harder to provide. The students who need the most stability and connection often feel the loss first and most deeply.
As a teacher, I know what these cuts look like inside a school building. As a parent, I know what they mean for families who depend on strong, stable public schools. As a taxpayer, I know public education is one of the most important investments we make together.
That is why this moment feels so heartbreaking.
Districts like ours are being forced into impossible decisions as federal and state support shrinks and public dollars are increasingly diverted away from traditional public schools, often in the name of “choice.” But what about the families who choose public schools? What about the taxpayers who believe their money should strengthen the schools that serve every child?
Public schools do not get to choose only the easiest students to teach. They welcome everyone: students with disabilities, English learners, children living through trauma, children who need meals, children who need consistency, and children who simply need to know that they matter.
Public schools are one of the few places left where every child is supposed to belong.
When we underfund them, we are not just cutting positions. We are weakening one of the most important institutions in our community. And when the arts are among those cuts, we send a painful message that creativity, expression and joy are expendable. They are not.
The arts teach persistence, problem-solving, innovation, empathy and resilience. They give students a voice when words fail them. For some children, the art room is the place where they feel safest, most capable and most connected to school.
In uncertain times, those spaces matter even more.
Concord is a community that says it values children, education, and opportunity. If that is true, then we must be willing to defend the schools that make those values real.
I am not writing this only as an art teacher concerned about my field. I am writing as someone who stands in all three roles: a teacher who sees what students need every day, a parent who wants strong schools for all children and a taxpayer who believes public dollars should be used to protect public education, not hollow it out piece by piece.
Forty-two teaching positions is not just a number. It is 42 relationships, 42 sources of stability, 42 adults who help children learn, grow and feel known.
If we allow cuts like this to become normal, we will wake up one day and realize we did not just lose staff. We lost the kind of public school system our children deserve.
Our children are worth more than this.
Somayeh Kashian is an art teacher at Rundlett Middle School.