There is something unsettling about watching a system you believed in begin to mirror the
very problems it once promised to fix.
Public schools are meant to model fairness, transparency, and accountability. They work
best when decisions are clear, feedback is welcomed, and students remain at the center.
But when decision-making becomes less transparent, when authority concentrates, and
when loyalty appears to matter more than experience or qualifications, the culture begins to shift.
People notice. Staff become more cautious. Conversations move from open meetings to quiet side discussions. Individuals who once felt comfortable raising concerns begin to weigh the risks of speaking openly. Over time, that caution creates something more troubling: silence.
This is not unique to Amherst. Across institutions, leadership that begins with promises of
equity and disruption can gradually become protective of its own authority. Feedback
starts to feel unwelcome. Criticism becomes personalized. Oversight becomes less assertive. The guardrails designed to ensure fairness begin to weaken.
One of the clearest warning signs is when hiring and decision-making appear inconsistent
or unclear. Whether intentional or not, when processes lack transparency or positions are
filled without open searches, it creates the perception that relationships and proximity to
leadership carry more weight than fairness. Even that perception alone can erode trust quickly.
Equally concerning is when accountability becomes difficult. Systems depend on leaders
who welcome scrutiny and oversight bodies willing to ask hard questions. When that
dynamic shifts, systems begin to serve stability and authority rather than students. This is not about any single individual. It is about patterns that emerge when power goes unchecked and when feedback is interpreted as opposition rather than engagement.
Amherst has long valued equity, transparency, and community voice. Those values require
more than intention. They require openness to criticism, willingness to reflect, and leadership grounded in accountability. When people begin to feel hesitant to speak, when loyalty becomes currency, and when decisions appear insulated from scrutiny, trust erodes. And trust, once lost, is difficult to rebuild.
Amherst’s students deserve transparency. Staff deserve to work without fear. And the community deserves confidence that decisions are being made in the best interest of students.
When guardrails weaken, systems drift. And when systems drift, students pay the price.
Georgia Malcolm
South Hadley