Why Underfunding Schools Leads to More People in Shelters, Not in College

THIS ISN’T JUST ABOUT SCHOOLS — IT’S ABOUT SURVIVAL

We need to stop pretending underfunded schools are just an “education issue.”

They’re a pipeline.

Not to college.
To poverty.
To homelessness.
To generational struggle.

The truth is, when we underfund schools, we don’t just shortchange classrooms—we shortchange futures. We create more barriers for kids who are already trying to survive systems stacked against them. We leave them unequipped, unsupported, and unseen. And then, years later, we act shocked when they show up in shelters instead of on scholarship.

This isn’t theoretical. It’s real life. Let’s unpack it.

Underfunded Schools = Underprepared Students

When you walk into a school and see cracked floors, outdated textbooks, broken HVAC units, and classrooms bursting at the seams, don’t call it “just a school issue.”
Call it what it is: a crisis.

Low-income, majority-Black and Brown neighborhoods often have the worst-resourced schools. And we wonder why kids are disengaged? Why they drop out? Why college feels out of reach?

Because it is, when:

• Counselors are stretched 1 to 500 students

• Teachers are underpaid and burnt out

• Extracurriculars are slashed

• SAT prep is a luxury

• Mental health support is nonexistent

How can you dream of college when you’re just trying to stay warm in a trailer classroom?

FROM CLASSROOM TO CRISIS — THE REAL COST OF CUTS

Education is the most powerful tool we have to prevent homelessness. But we don’t treat it like that.

We cut budgets for tutoring programs.
We cut social workers.
We cut school meals.
We cut career counselors.We cut hope.

Then we act confused when students fall through the cracks.

Here’s what happens next:

• They drop out.

• They get pushed into the juvenile system.

• They fall into low-wage jobs with no benefits.

• They can’t afford rent.

• They get evicted.

• They end up on the street.

One cut leads to another. And before you know it, a teenager with promise becomes an adult society gave up on.

COLLEGE ISN’T JUST ABOUT GRADES — IT’S ABOUT ACCESS

Let’s say a student does manage to beat the odds and get good grades. Is college even accessible?

Not really. Not when:

• Application fees cost $50 a pop

• FAFSA is a maze

• Parents can’t co-sign loans

• They don’t have reliable internet

• They’re working full-time to help pay bills

• There’s no one in their life who’s ever been to college to guide them through the process

That’s not ambition. That’s survival.
And survival doesn’t leave room for essays, test prep, or tours of college campuses.

We tell kids to “just apply” while actively making it impossible.

EDUCATION SHOULD BE A LADDER — NOT A TRAP DOOR

Here’s the part we don’t say enough: Kids aren’t failing. We’re failing them.

We’ve set up a system where the ZIP code you’re born into can determine whether you walk across a graduation stage—or walk into a shelter.

But we could change that.

We could fund schools like futures depend on it—because they do.
We could prioritize counselors, trauma support, arts, and trade programs.
We could bridge the gap between education and employment.
We could actually prepare kids for life—not just for tests.

Education shouldn’t be a privilege. It should be protection.

NO MORE EXCUSES — WE KNOW WHAT WORKS

We know what happens when schools are funded:

• Graduation rates go up

• Crime rates go down

• Employment opportunities expand

• Mental health improves

• College enrollment increases

• Homelessness decreases

This isn’t a mystery. It’s math. It’s human nature. It’s cause and effect.

But when we keep cutting funding, especially in schools serving the most vulnerable, we’re choosing short-term savings over long-term safety.
We’re choosing incarceration over education.
We’re choosing shelters over dorms.

YOU CAN’T CUT EDUCATION AND EXPECT EQUALITY

If we want fewer people in shelters, we need more people in schools.
Thriving, well-resourced, community-backed schools.

It’s that simple.

You can’t neglect a kid for 12 years and expect them to magically succeed at 18. You can’t give them less and then demand more. You can’t starve a system and call it broken when it collapses.

This is about the long game. This is about humanity.
This is about every kid who never even got the chance to dream.

If we want a future where fewer people are homeless, hopeless, or held back, then we have to start where it begins: in the classroom.

Let’s stop failing our kids before they even begin.