I had the same basic conversation several times last week.

It would start with someone either bemoaning or cheering President Trump’s barrage of executive orders. They’d note his sweeping assault on DEI, gender ideology, and illegal immigration. Then they’d pause and say: “But Penny Schwinn.”

A couple days before his inauguration, Trump nominated former Tennessee education commissioner Penny Schwinn to serve as deputy secretary of education. This generated more attention than usual because Schwinn’s nomination was announced in isolation rather than as part of the department’s leadership team. (Ten other ED senior officials were named later in the week.)

For education’s Never Trumpers, Schwinn’s nomination was disorienting. She is a former TFA recruit and charter-school leader who has a PhD and a history of working across the aisle. She’s more focused on curriculum than culture, is an achievement hawk, and is passionate about literacy. This makes her the kind of Republican that even staunch anti-Trumpers can embrace. (To see why, just peruse my exit interview with her following her tenure in Tennessee.) The coastal “school reform” community that inhales a steady diet of NPR and New York Times coverage assumed Trump’s second term would usher in a nightmarish hellscape—thus, the shock and relief at seeing Schwinn named to head up the department’s K–12 efforts.

For Trump enthusiasts who fear they’re being sold a bill of goods, the Schwinn appointment was equally disorienting. Some MAGA diehards who’ve been battling woke dogmas regarding race, gender, and equity lashed out at Schwinn’s nomination. In an X post with more than 1.5 million views, influential anti-DEI crusader Robby Starbuck urged Trump to pull the nomination, charging that the Tennessee Department of Education “embraced DEI” on Schwinn’s watch. A quick scan of conservative social media reveals that Starbuck has plenty of company.

I’ll be clear: I want to see Penny Schwinn confirmed. I know her to be a warrior for academic rigor, a get-things-done executive, and a leader with a deep streak of common-sense conservatism. That said, while I think Schwinn will do a terrific job, I also think the qualms are understandable. After all, putatively conservative education reformers and Republican officials really have spent most of the 21st century rolling over on culture and values.

From embracing race-based accountability in NCLB to eye-rolling at irate parents during the Common Core fights to allowing the casual infusion of DEI/“anti-racist” ideology into SEL, Republican leaders have seemed more interested in scoring points with progressive funders and allies than in pushing back. When the education blob declared that parental hostility to the Common Core was selfish, misinformed, and paranoid, lots of Republican officials and school reformers either echoed the charges or stood mute. The same Republican timidity was on display when parents spoke up against school closures or some truly grotesque dogmas, only to get slandered as bigots and racists by Democrats, the education establishment, and the mainstream media. That’s why groups like Moms for Liberty are on high alert for signs that Trump’s Department of Education is about to be co-opted.

Over the past decade, I’ve written again and again about the need for conservatives to stand up for basic principles of merit, rigor, and equality (see, for instance, here, here, here, or here), and I can report that, for most of that period, it was all brushed off by Republican officialdom. Indeed, until about 2022—when public frustration with campus indoctrination, the toxicity of DEI, and radical gender ideology finally broke through to popular consciousness—most Republican school chiefs and higher education impresarios didn’t lift a finger, all while proudly insisting that they didn’t want to be “distracted by culture wars.” That’s why populist distrust burns so brightly.

It’s also why Trump’s executive orders loom so large. From gender to DEI to immigration enforcement, Trump delivered the kinds of hardline measures that he’d promised on the campaign trail. The orders were comprehensive and specific. Unlike Trump 1.0, it looks like Trump 2.0 is poised to embrace these kinds of fights and prosecute them boldly. A huge difference between then and now is that the fights over CRT, DEI, gender, and the rest have given rise on the right to a thick playbook and a web of activists (coming out of new-ish organizations like Moms for Liberty, Parents Defending Education, the Defense of Freedom Institute, and the New Civil Liberties Alliance) who’ve earned their spurs in these fights. That wasn’t the case during Trump 1.0.

But populist activists know that personnel is policy. If Trump’s ED appointees energetically embrace his executive orders, that signals one thing. If they treat those orders as pro forma, that reveals something very different. That’s why Schwinn drew such agita. Now, as the broader slate of department officials is announced, with plenty of names likely to reassure MAGA’s activist wing, I suspect the reactions to Schwinn will moderate. She’ll be seen as one part of a larger puzzle.

If we step back from the particulars, though, there’s a larger point worth making. I fear that the anti-Schwinns and the NPR school reformers may be making the same mistake when it comes to Schwinn. Both seem to imagine that educational improvement is about either “the culture wars” or “what really matters for kids.” What risks getting lost is that course-correcting on culture may be how we help schools rebuild public trust and refocus on academic achievement.

As Mike McShane and I explained in EdNext last year, a conservative vision necessarily “starts with broadly shared values and translates those into actions that address kitchen-table concerns” like “promoting excellence, rigor, and merit.” After all, it’s hard to focus on rigorous math instruction when educators fret that it’s racist to worry about correct answers, tell students to show their work, or offer advanced math instruction. It’s tough to create the conditions of academic excellence when educators are reluctant to address student misconduct and when personal responsibility is dismissed as a legacy of white-supremacy culture.

Restoring common sense to classroom culture isn’t a distraction. It’s a necessary first step if we want educators focused on the work of educating. That’s where the executive orders and hard-charging MAGA staffers come in. But then what?

That’s when we need education leaders who unapologetically embrace the stuff of learning: academics, rigor, good teaching, and student outcomes. Washington can’t fix those things (and I don’t want it to try). But federal officials can tackle the rules and regulations that stymie learning. They can make it clear that districts have an obligation to see that schools are safe and orderly places. They can ensure that federal funds are supporting scientifically grounded reading instruction. They can stop subsidizing mediocre schools of education and unserious research. They can put a spotlight the nation’s dismal academic outcomes.

That’s where Schwinn comes in.

Frederick Hess is an executive editor of Education Next and the author of the blog “Old School with Rick Hess.”